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glitterandmoondustofficial · 2 years

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Side To Side

Chapter 223: Safety Net

Characters: Ruby, Law Rating: Teen Warnings: Alcohol, excessive drinking, language, past suicidal ideation Notes: How's everyone doing? *rubs hands together* things are going to getting fun soon. Full story here.

~~~~~

Ruby hiccuped and stumbled up to her shitty apartment. She swayed from side to side when she was able to get in the door. She collapsed on the floor and giggled. She had gone drinking after she was fired from her waitressing job. Apparently punching someone for grabbing her ass was a fireable offense.

“Whoops.” She sat up and kicked off her heels. “Ugh, I’m sobering up.” She shakily stood up and walked into the kitchen. She looked for a bottle of vodka, which was easily found since she mostly just had alcohol.

She giggled triumphantly and screwed off the cap. She drank straight from the bottle. She continued to drink until she became nauseous. She swayed into the bathroom and hung her head over the toilet.

She groaned. She didn’t know why she always forgot about this part. She heaved and vomited. She frowned deeply and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. Why did she always do this? Why did she drink herself to the point she got sick?

Tears formed in her eyes. She didn’t even have someone here to hold her hair back as her stomach purged itself.

“Dammit.”

She was alone. She was drunk and alone and sick. She cried. She cried and cried and cried. She was so lonely. She was going to die alone.

She laid down on the bathroom floor, the cool ground feeling good against her face. She was tired. She was so tired of this life. 19 years old and she was ready to die. She wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep and never wake up. She just wanted it all to end.

“Babe.”

Ruby blinked out of her memory and stared up at Law. “Yeah?”

“You good? You just zoned out there.”

Ruby looked at his hand and the glass of rosé that she had bought from the vineyard. She stared at it for a moment before taking the glass from him. She sighed and then sipped the wine. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about the past.”

“Ah.” He sat next to her on the ground on their balcony.

Ruby leaned against him with a smile. “I love you.”

Law wrapped his arm around her. “Love you, too.” He kissed the side of her head. “Why were you thinking of the past?”

“Dunno. I just started thinking about it.” She took another sip. “I’m glad you found me on that island.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t shown up when you did.” She smiled softly and went silent.

Law rubbed her shoulder with his fingers quietly. He cleared his throat after a moment. “I’m glad I found you, too,” he said, barely above a murmur.

Ruby grinned and pulled away to look at his face. “Yeah?”

Law looked at her. “Yeah. I am.” He leaned in and kissed her. Ruby smiled and brought her hand to his cheek, happily letting him kiss her in any way he liked. Law pulled away and Ruby giggled at him. She sipped her wine and pulled her blanket over her further. “When this is all over, and we’re in our seaside cottage…” Ruby couldn’t deny that her heart skipped a beat when he said “our.” “...I think you should be a house girlfriend.”

Ruby shook her head in shock. “What?”

“Yeah. You should just be lazy.”

“I’m sorry but where’s my real Law? He would never let me be lazy like that.”

Law rolled his eyes but then hugged her to him. Ruby paused for a moment before closing her eyes and snuggling into him. “I think, for once in your life, you shouldn’t have to work or struggle,” he said quietly. “I know you want your farmer’s market stall or flower shop or whatever, but I think you should just pause and not do anything for a couple months.”

Ruby breathed in and let out a slow breath. “What about you?”

“If I don’t work, I’ll go insane.”

“Oh?”

“More insane.”

Ruby giggled. “Is that all?”

“I just don’t want you stressed in what’s supposed to be your comfortable life.”

Ruby smiled. “You’re so sweet to me,” she murmured.

He stared at her for a moment. “I have to try to be sweet sometimes,” he said. “I can’t always be unaffectionate, otherwise you wouldn’t feel appreciated.” He sighed.

“I do love it when you try, but I also understand who you are. But you know, hon, you’re a lot more affectionate than you realize. Just because you’re not going on every beach and picking out the prettiest seashells for me doesn’t mean you aren’t affectionate.”

“Seashells? Is that something new you read?”

“Haha, maybe. It’s a mermaid and a sailor romance.”

“Ugh,” he gagged. “I don’t know how you read that stuff.”

Ruby grinned cheekily at him. She leaned up and kissed him. “You’re better than those novels anyway.”

He stared at her with his pretty gold eyes thoughtfully. He sighed and kissed her chastely. “I don’t know about that, but if you’re happy then that’s what matters.”

Ruby giggled. She finished her wine and set aside her wine glass. She wrapped her arms around him with a wide grin. “You’re perfect for me.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he said, monotone, before downing his wine. He placed his glass to his side and grabbed her hips. “I don’t really think we were people made for romance.”

Ruby laughed. “Probably not. We’ve got too much trauma.”

“We’re also terrible at communicating our emotions.”

“Not to mention stubborn.”

Ruby grinned at him and he had a content look on his face. “I love you, though,” he said. “No matter how hard headed you are.”

“Aw, thanks, hon. And I love you, too, no matter how grumpy you are.” She kissed him. He rubbed her sides with his thumbs and she smiled against his lips. “You know, if the rest of our lives are just wine and kissing, I don’t think I’d complain.”

“That’s all? Alright, but that means no chocolate.”

“What? Wait. No. I take it back.”

“Too late, you’ve made your decision.”

“Nooooo!” She laughed. He smiled at her. Ruby grinned, a warm feeling growing in her chest. She was so happy with him. “Hey, Law?”

“Hm?”

She leaned in and kissed him slowly. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Saving me.”

His eyes widened a fraction before he relaxed, a small blush on his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her in close. Ruby closed her eyes as he placed gentle kisses on her cheeks, nose, and forehead. He stopped at her cheekbone, his lips lingering. “I should be thanking you,” he spoke softly to her. The way he breathed on her skin was like a gentle caress. “If it wasn’t for you…” he trailed off quietly.

Ruby smiled and held onto him tightly. A soft breeze rolled by, filling her senses with the smell of the salty sea. The sun was sinking into the distance and the sky was painted with hundreds and tiny stars. She took a deep breath, breathing in her lover. She loved him. She finally had the life she deserved. She had finally found people to give her the love that she longed for for so long.

She started to tear up but held back those tears. Why did she always have to start crying? It must be because she had been thinking about the past. She had been such a wreck for so long and now she was flourishing. She was happy. She was so genuinely happy that it all seemed like a dream.

“You’re a crybaby,” Law remarked with a laugh in his voice.

Ruby smiled and opened her eyes. She looked at his face. She sniffled and then let out a breath. “Yeah, I guess I am. I was just thinking, that all of this? All of this happiness and love seems like a dream. Like maybe I’m stuck in Lillie-Mai’s dream powers and this isn’t real.” She sighed.

“I understand. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that I’m where I am,” he said. “But the anger keeps it real.” Ruby nodded. Law reached to her face and pushed back some hair that had gotten in her face. “And you. You keep it real.”

Ruby blinked before blushing. She giggled nervously with a big, wide grin. “Oh, come on, I know you just mean that it’s because I’m loud and obnoxious.”

“Well, you can be loud and you have been known to be obnoxious sometimes, but that wasn’t what I meant.” He kissed her forehead. “All I meant is that I love you.”

Ruby let out a breath. “I love you, too, hon.” She grabbed his hands. “Why don’t we finish off that bottle of wine and then star watch?” She leaned in and kissed him.

“The wine was too sweet for me,” he said. “Why don’t you finish the bottle?”

“That will result in me getting tipsy and then you’ll get many kisses. Are you prepared for that?”

“I’ll survive.”

Ruby grinned and kissed him again. She tasted his kiss like she hadn’t done thousands of times before. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. He gave her a life that she had only dreamed of. He was giving her a future that she had fought for. He was her future. She no longer needed to think of the past. She would let it be. She was over her past and her hurt.

She had moved on with those she loved, and she would never look back

#op fanfic #one piece #lawxoc #law x oc #Trafalgar law #one piece fanfiction #side to side #sela ruby #ruby sela #hello i have been updating a lot recently and i'm very happy about it

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thatoneinsecurenerd · 2 years

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Human AU teacher Logan with one thermos of wine, a second thermos of coffee, and a third thermos of water on his desk, and whenever he reaches out in the middle of his teaching a class to take a drink, he fucking plays Russian roulette bc he's not really paying attention to which thermos he's grabbing.

#ts spoilers #sanders sides #logan sanders #human au #au idea #fanfic ideas #alcohol tw #drinking tw #russian roulette #swearing cw #drinking on the job is a fireable offense #but how will someone ever know #what's in a thermos #which isn't clear #how will they know

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deadgirldreaming · 2 years

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Rachel didn't find a healthy work/life balance and neglected her and Ross' relationship.

That did NOT make it alright for Ross to overstep boundaries Rachel had set in place. They could've talked it through at a later point in time.

Ross' jealousy and lack of faith in Rachel's loyalty also indicated he was in no state to be in a relationship, he should've went to therapy and dealt with his issues earlier.

When Ross and Rachel were on a break that did not mean he could cheat on her. A break is when the parties in a relationship spend some time apart to cool off and think the relationship through and reconvene at a later date. Ross should have never went out to a bar and started drinking, terrible idea. He should've went home, stayed there, and either had some snacks or fast food as a little pick me up.

Rachel never should have allowed Mark to come over. That was a terrible idea. When the guy that makes your partner irrationally jealous offers to be a shoulder to cry on you hang up and talk to a friend while treating yourself (whether it be about the relationship or not), heck you could make a girls night of it.

Ross should have been more forthcoming about his mistake, showed he was remorseful and honest.

Rachel had a right to be upset, especially when Ross tried to cover things up. If they were a little more mature and admitted to their mistakes and tried to do better they would've had a better chance of working out.

Onto when they tried to have a relationship again. Rachel should not have tried to sabotage Ross' relationship because she was jealous, so many things wrong with that. Ross should not have tried to get into Rachel's pants considering he was still dating someone else. He should've talked to his partner after the trip (broken up) and then eased into a relationship with Rachel again (not sleep together).

Rachel should not have written 18 pages and made Ross assume sole responsibility for the relationship previously not working out. They both screwed the pooch. They should've slept separately, talked through and admitted their mistakes another day and tried to be better partners towards one another.

Even then, Ross and Rachel have little in common. Ross is only attracted to Rachel because she's hot and he's had an obsessive crush on her since high school. Rachel is attracted to Ross because he is physically attractive and sometimes portrayed attractive personality traits. Note: the sometimes.

There are a bunch more things I could talk about but this is getting long so I'll leave it at this.

As the show went on Rachel gradually became a better person, not perfect or without fault, but she improved (less spoiled, learned to be responsible, tried to be a good friend, dedicated to her job, became a loving mother).

Ross spiralled, he became worse as time went on (his jealousy, lack of trust, his entire relationship with Rachel, his other romantic relationships, Barbie doll vs GI Joe incident, firing the male nanny, dating Elizabeth (a barely legal student at the university he was a professor at. It was against the university rules, a fireable offense. Her father didn't approve of this adult professor from his daughters university having a sexual relationship with her when she was barely legal, young, naive, inexperienced, and the power imbalance where Ross could potentially get in the way of her education as someone in a higher position of authority at the university), etc.

[If I did actual research and didn't just recount things I know from the show I could write an essay on why they never would've worked and why Joey and Rachel potentially could've worked. I haven't even covered Joey and Rachel's relationship yet.]

#friends #tv show #ross and rachel #joey and rachel #shipping discourse #my ships #ship #anti ross and rachel

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talesofstyles · 4 years

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Quid Pro Quo

Another lawyer!Harry. Technically six years before this piece. Enemies to lovers with plenty of angst :))) [7k]

massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume @for-fucks-sake-h and @emotionally-imbruised 🥺💛

This has got to be one of the worst weeks of your professional life.

It’s only Thursday and this past week you haven’t left your office before eleven every night. You’re currently working on nine cases, two of which require immediate action, and you’ll most likely have to go to trial for at least three of the cases because the motions to dismiss that you filed were denied. Last night alone you didn’t get a wink of sleep because you were busy preparing for a deposition this morning, which turned out to be practically useless, because your client completely ignored your advice and said everything you told them not to and basically shit the bed for you.

You know this is what you signed up for when you decided to become a lawyer at a top law firm in the City. Clifford Chance is not a joke, there’s a reason why they’re number second in the UK and you knew that long before you even started working here. There’s a common knowledge which most law students throughout the UK knows, that if you work at Clifford Chance, you don’t get to sit around. Put it this way: if you let six minutes tick away without achieving anything, you’ve wasted the firm fifty pounds. Twelve minutes: one hundred pounds. Eighteen minutes: one fifty. You do the math.

It’s not that you hate your job. On the contrary, you absolutely love your job. You know you’re good at it. You love the thrill of negotiation. You like to argue and make the best point in the room. You’re addicted to the adrenaline rush of closing a deal, and frankly, nothing satisfy you more than spotting the loopholes in a contract (with the exception of sex of course but it has really been a while and you’re practically a nun these days so it’s not even worth mentioning).

But sometimes it’s just too much. You’ve been working for fifty five hours per week, and sure, the money’s good (scratch that—the money’s great), but you don’t have a life outside of work and you’re beginning to realise that it’s one hell of a price to pay.

The truth is, you know all this nonsense is not because you hate your job, nor because you’re stretched too thin. Interestingly, you actually thrive under pressure and you know that’s one of your qualities that makes you a good lawyer. And life outside of work? Even the thought of it makes you laugh. Your work is your life. You’ve never complained about that. This bitterness inside of you that you don’t even realise exists emerged when Harry Styles waltzed into your firm three months ago. You don’t normally make a big deal about people coming into the firm, because you’re good with people and you’re friends with everyone. But the thing is, you resent him because your firm gave him a senior partner title right away, one that you’ve been busting your arse for by working about two hundred hours per month minimum for the past year, just because he came from your firm’s rival which happens to be the number one law firm in the UK. And on top of that, he didn’t come empty handed. He brought five big clients with him when he came knocking on your firm’s door, and that sort of sealed the deal for your managing partner to choose him instead of you to be promoted to senior partner this year.

Bloody bum licker.

Your frustrated groan bounces off the thin walls of your two bedroom flat that you shared with your best friend and you accidentally slam the door a little too harsh. Luckily, she’s used to you coming home in such a state for the past three months, so she just turns her head to see you from where she’s sat on the couch in the living room, stifling a laugh.

“Harry Styles?” She ventures, smirking at you and you groan in annoyance as you throw your keys in the bowl.

“Harry,” you grunt. “Fucking Styles.”

Fran can’t help but laugh, and you give her a look that tells her you’d probably kill her if she keeps that up as you walk past her and straight into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine from the fridge, so she’s back trying to stifle her laughter.

“Alright,” she replies, you can hear amusement in her tone. “What did he do this time?”

“He took my case!” you snap as you plop down on the couch with a bottle of Riesling in your hand. Fran puts her laptop on the coffee table and turns to face you, sitting expectantly, waiting for the oncoming rant. “He’s just- ugh. I can’t stand him, Fran. He’s unbelievable.”

“What?” She stares at you in confusion. “How?”

“So Luke came to the office this morning-”

“Luke-”

“Don’t-” you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. “I know what you’re about to say, and yes, that Luke. So, he came to the office this morning because he’s got a problem. Basically, his company just cut a huge deal but he needs to get out of this contract because his general counsel accidentally let them slip something into the fine print.”

“Shit,” she remarks. “That is a fireable offense.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “The guy was fired on the spot. The thing is, if Luke fulfills this order, he goes out of business.”

“And if he doesn’t,” she pauses, looking at you for a second before adding another remark. “Shit, they’ll sue him for breach of contract.”

“Exactly,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it all day trying to spot loopholes in the contract to save his company.”

You really miss working together with Fran. You’ve been living together since you were both still in law school, and Fran used to work in Clifford Chance as well until ten months ago when she decided she wanted to focus on fashion law and moved to Addleshaw Goddard.

It’s not that you’re not happy for her. You’re glad she found something that she’s passionate about. It’s just you’re so used to working on cases and going to mock trials together and you can’t deny that you miss it sometimes. You just wish that she’d stayed, because you know it would be much easier to handle Harry if you’ve got your best friend with you.

“Right,” she nods. “And I’m guessing Harry came to you and he wanted in?”

“That bastard!” You scowl. “He just waltzed into my office out of the blue and was like, ‘I gather Luke Whiteacre needs to get out of something? I want in.’ I mean… who does that?! He didn’t even say hi when he walked in!”

Fran snickers at your terrible impression of Harry. She hasn’t met him yet but she knows there’s no way he talks like that. “And you’re upset because he didn’t say hi?”

“Fran!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” she hastily amends. “Look, maybe he’s just trying to help? He’s not taking your case, babe, believe me. You’re still on it, aren’t you?”

“Well, I am,” you let out another sigh.

“See?” She goes on. “And even if he tries to, Luke wouldn’t let it happen. He’s been your client since forever.”

“Still. I don’t like the fact that he thought he could just walk into my office and hijack my case,” you say in exasperation. “I’m gonna kill him, Fran. I swear to god I’m gonna kill him.”

Fran burst in laughter, muttering your name in a chastising tone. “Don’t. You won’t look good in prison stripes,” she shakes her head. “Really rubs you in the wrong way, doesn’t he?”

“Absolutely,” you roll your eyes.

“Come on, babe,” she continues with a smirk. “I’ve said this before, you need to shag him. Take out all those frustrations…”

“Keep that up and I’ll put your name on my people-to-murder list next to his,” you grunt, standing up from the couch and head towards the kitchen hoping to find some treats from the snack cabinet.

Fran giggles as she takes her laptop back onto her lap and begins typing. “Let’s go out,” she suggests. “Been a while. You look like you could use a night out.”

“I can’t,” you slump against the couch with a bag of chocolate buttons. “He’s on his way here.”

“What? Harry?” She looks at you in surprise. “Why?”

“Yeah,” you shrug carelessly. “We need to work on Luke’s case.”

“Have you still got some condoms in your room?” She says teasingly. “I’ve got some just in case you need them. Just-”

The sound of the doorbell rings cuts your best friend’s teasing remark. It’s definitely Harry, and you give Fran one last death glare and Ross Geller’s version of middle finger as you get up from the couch and walk towards the front door to let him in.

“Hey,” he greets you with his usual smug smile that irritates you to no end. “Lovely flat you’ve got here.”

“We better get started,” you say dismissively as you close the door behind him before you lead him into your living room. You suddenly realise that it’s your first time seeing him not in one of his expensive suits. Not that you care enough about him to notice that. It’s just he happens to be wearing a lot of Jermyn Street suits, and you know they don’t come cheap.

This time he’s only in his crisp white button-up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up just below his elbow. His arms are full with folders that you asked him to take from the office, and as the two of you walk into your living room, you see Fran turning her head to greet him. “Hi.”

“Hey, you must be Fran,” he smiles as he strides to the couch.

“And you must be Harry,” Fran replies, before tilting her head to smirk at you. “Heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” Harry chuckles. “Only good thing, I hope?”

“Oh,” Fran can’t help but snort. “Only the best.”

You end up ordering Chinese because neither of you have had dinner, and Fran ends up helping both you and Harry on the case in the living room. Even with three heads brainstorming together you’re still struggling to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It is now past midnight and you and Harry are still working on your case. Fran has gone up to her room a little over two hours ago, leaving just the two of you in your living room. Your coffee table is strewn with photocopied draft contracts, financial reports, note-pads covered in scribbles, post-its and two cups of cold coffee from four hours ago that both of you keep accidentally drinking. Take-out boxes are littering the floor, and you can barely keep your eyes open as you read through yet another file to find literally anything which could potentially help.

“I tell you what, this is ironclad,” you let out a heavy sigh as you throw the document on the coffee table in defeat. “Houdini wouldn’t even get out of this contract.”

“We need to adjourn,” Harry suggests, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Regroup tomorrow to get to the bottom of this with clear heads. I’ve got a trial at half nine but I’ll be done by noon.”

“I can’t rest before we figure this out,” you state stubbornly, pausing for a second to let out a yawn. “But you go home. I’ll let you know if I’ve got something.”

“No,” Harry shakes his head. “You have to rest. If you were to come up with something you would’ve by now.”

You feel a stab of indignation. “Are you saying that I’m not capable of getting to the bottom of this myself?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry says in exasperation. “How did you even come up with that? I was just saying you’re knackered, well we both are, so we’re not thinking clearly. But you know what? If you wanna keep going, that’s your decision. But I’m not going to.”

“Well, I never asked you to!” you retort defensively.

Harry rolls his eyes as he gets up from your couch, heading towards the door without saying another word and you can’t help but groan in annoyance. With Harry, you’re quite capable of going from calm to seething in 0-60, and you’re too pissed to even notice Fran stifling her giggles from the kitchen.

“Oh, yeah,” Fran appears in the living room with a glass of water in her hand, staring at you with one eyebrow arched high. “There’s no tension there at all.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, give it a rest!”

***

By two o’clock you’re already exhausted and brain dead after only three hours of sleep and non-stop work since this morning. You haven’t even had lunch yet, but even just the thought of eating already makes you nauseous because you can’t stop thinking about how crushed Luke is going to be when you tell him that he’s going out of business. Truth be told you don’t want to jump that far, but what Harry said last night keeps replaying on your mind like a broken cassette. ‘If you were to come up with something, you would have by now.’ And here you are, twenty-eight hours later, still have got nothing.

Speak of the devil.

“Where have you been?” Harry asks in a prickly tone as he walks into your office. His brows are knitted together and he looks concerned. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Honestly, a ‘hi’ would be nice.

“I’ll tell you where,” you shift your attention from your computer and look at him. “I was getting screwed by Berkeley Group and trying to figure out what to do about it.”

Harry gives you a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“I went there with a dozen win-win offers and they shot down every single one,” you say stonily.

“Did you threaten litigation?” asked Harry, a bit superciliously.

“Harry, I threaten them with everything but the kitchen sink,” you flash him an incandescent look. “The thing is, this contract is airtight and they know it.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Harry says promptly with a glint of hope in his eyes. “And this won’t make Luke go out of business.”

“What you on about?”

“Slicing and dicing,” says Harry with a smug smile.

You flash him another incandescent look. “Are you telling me that your big brilliant idea is to split his commercial division from his retail?”

The glint of hope disappears from his eyes as he looks at you. “This is the only way out.”

“Cutting someone’s arm off is not a way out!” you practically shriek.

“It is if their life depends on it!” Harry yells in frustration, the volume of his voice matches yours and you can’t help but notice two associates stop for a second just to have a peek at you and Harry having a screaming match before they continue walking past your office.

“Look,” he begins again, and you know he’s calmed down a little because he’s not as loud as three seconds ago. “If we do this, we have a chance to get Berkeley back to the table before we cut anything off.”

“Listen to me Harry,” you venture after a pause. “I’m sorry but we’re not going back to Luke with this bullshit. Thank you for your help so far, but you’re off the case.”

“What?” Harry turns to you in disbelief.

“You heard me,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect. “I’m taking back this case.”

You turn your attention back to some random document on your desk, pretending to read carefully, not daring to meet his eyes. Luckily he leaves your office without saying another word after a second or two of pause, and you slump back further on your chair as he slams your door behind him.

For the rest of the afternoon you’ve decided to keep yourself busy with your other cases, but you know deep down you won’t be able to focus on anything else before you get Luke out of the woods. You can’t let him go out of business. You just can’t. Not only because you’ve been looking after his company for years, hell you were only an associate when he first became a client, but you also saw with your own eyes how his company grew. He was only just starting his business when he came into your firm, and you witnessed it firsthand how he nurtured it into the big and successful company it is now.

On a side note, you also can’t stop thinking about what happened in your office earlier. Sure, you and Harry don’t particularly get along like a house on fire, but you didn’t have to be so rude, did you? His approach to the problem might be different than yours, but deep down you knew he was only trying to help.

So on your way to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea, you decided to stop by his office. You know you owe him an apology.

“Hi,” his door is open but you decided to knock anyway. “Mind if I come in?”

He looks up at you instantly, pushing his chair a little further away from his desk to break his attention from his computer. “Of course not, come in.”

“Look-”

You both say simultaneously, before breaking into a chuckle.

“Let me go first,” he begins with a smile, which for some reason doesn’t look smug this time and you nod. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry. That case is yours to begin with, and I should’ve trusted you to bring it home how you see fit.”

“Well I’m sorry too,” you add hastily. “Guess I let my emotion get the best of me back there. I was rude when you were only trying to help.”

“Hey, no need to apologise to me,” he replies without flickering. “I absolutely understand.”

“It’s just,” you continue as you saunter to his desk. “Luke was my first client. Ever. The first time I went solo on a case, it was for his company. I just can’t let him down.”

“Look, we don’t know that yet,” he assures you gently. “And even if it comes to that point, it’s not your fault. If anything it’s the general counsel’s fault.”

“Holy shit-” you say suddenly. “Harry!”

“What?” he looks at you in confusion.

“The general counsel didn’t just make one mistake,” you go on as you look at Harry with glimmering hope. “He made two, he never ran the final contract by me.”

“Holy shit he didn’t,” Harry remarks. “Because he knew you’d catch any mistake. So he didn’t make a mistake…”

“No it was on purpose,” you can’t help a pleased little smile coming to your lips. “Isn’t it a coincidence that he just signed a contract to work at a subsidiary of Berkeley?”

“This is brilliant,” he replies excitedly. “You’re brilliant.”

“Say that again?” you joke.

“No, you need to get them on the phone right now,” Harry gives you a rictus smile. “And I need to find us some bloody champagne.”

***

Harry grins as he walks into your office and asks, as though you’re mid-conversation. “Have you made the call?”

“Ooh, that’s a good one,” you grin when you notice a bottle of Moët & Chandon in his hand. “Where did you get that?”

“Leftovers from the Christmas party,” he chuckles as he quickly opens it . “How’s it? What did they say?”

“Well, the contract is back exactly the way it was,” you begin, giving him a smug smile for a change. “Well, with a twenty five percent increase.”

He looks at you suspiciously, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Twenty five?”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes comically. “Forty.”

“Bloody hell,” he chuckles. “You don’t mess about, do you? Remind me to never mess with you.”

You laugh and take a sip of the champagne. “We need to celebrate this.”

“Do you wanna go out?”

“Oh no, I’ve got something better,” you smirk as you hand him a folder. “Take a look.”

Harry takes the folder promptly and begins skimming through the documents, occasionally taking sips of the champagne in between. “Aha, you need to get out of a deal.”

“Exactly,” you grin. “We need to get out of a deal I negotiated for a mobile payment app with our client’s credit card provider.”

“This is a three years deal and you’re only three months in,” Harry observes as he continues skimming through the files.

“Well, that’s what makes it fun, innit?” your grin widens.

“Oh, absolutely. This is fun,” his eyes twinkling in delight. “You don’t have any legal grounds to do it. Have you got something in mind?”

“Mhm,” you hum as you take another swig of champagne. “I think if I can find a reason to pay into a trust instead of to them directly then we can squeeze them…”

“Make them take a buyout,” Harry adds.

“Look at us finishing each other’s sentences already,” you make an elaborate gesture with your champagne flute and Harry gives you a shrill laugh.

“We’re best friends now, aren’t we?”

You retort at once. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Alright,” says Harry, his eyes still flashing with amusement. “That’s a good plan by the way. What do you want me to do?”

“I need precedents by noon.”

“You’ll have them on your desk by nine am sharp,” he smirks.

***

Harry keeps his promise.

When you arrive in your office at a little over nine, there are six folders from Harry waiting for you on your desk, which means that he didn’t only get you one or two but six precedents for the new case that you’re both working on. This is the boost of confidence that you need, because today you’re scheduled to go to the judge’s chamber and meet with the lawyer on the opposing side. Who knows, maybe this will be a quick one and the case will be over by the end of the day.

Well, that’s a nice thought. But in order for the case to be dismissed, the lawyer from the opposing side needs to show up here first and foremost. You’ve been sitting in the judge’s chamber for nearly fifteen minutes now, and he has warned you about ten times that if the other lawyer doesn’t show up, he would have to deny your motion to dismiss.

“Hello, sorry I’m late,” a voice pipes in from the door, and when you turn around, you see a woman with a smug smile that reminds you of Harry’s, clad in L.K. Bennett from head to toe walks into the room. She offers you a hand before she sits down, and you politely reach out yours for a handshake. “Camille Sweetings, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you now?” you give her a mocking smile as you begin confidently. “Well, you haven’t lived up to your obligations and according to these six precedents, we have the right to nullify this entire deal right now.”

You really don’t like the look on her face. Any other lawyers would at least be slightly ticked to hear that, but she still has the same smug smile across her face. “You don’t have the right to do anything, you’re in violation of your contract.”

“Paying into a trust isn’t a violation,” you frown.

“No,” she agrees. “But meeting with the competition is.”

You can’t see your own face, but if you do, you’re most likely to look like you’ve just seen a ghost. How did she even know that? You try to remain calm and look at the judge. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“No,” she’s smiling as she says the word. “You just didn’t know I’d find out about it. Your Honour, I’ve got a confirmation that YN YLN has engaged in a pattern of dirty tricks, unethical behaviour and borderline illegal activity. All in the name of ‘representing’ her clients.”

Your rage simmers up into a froth. “If you’re gonna say all that about me, you better damn well be able to back it up.”

You want nothing more than to rip off the smirk across her face as she hands two files to the judge. “Here are two of Ms YLN's old cases. There you’ll find settlements withheld and meetings with the competition.”

“How the hell did you get these?!” you exclaim indignantly. “Your Honour, my past cases have no relevance here.”

“No, but your answers to my question do,” he says sternly. “Did you or did you not meet with the competition last week?”

***

You stride back into your office furiously. Who the hell was that woman? You didn’t even know her yet she apparently knew a damn lot about you. Nobody even knew you had a meeting with the competition last week, so there has got to be something bigger going on yet you just can’t seem to figure that out.

You begin to realise maybe this whole case isn’t a good idea and you silently promise yourself that you will never take on anything with getting out of contracts or deals or basically everything that Harry is good at ever again. This isn’t your thing, this is Harry’s. Your thing is everything that has everything to do with mergers, acquisitions, all that, just like Fran’s thing is everything with fashion law. This whole thing is really stressing you out and you plan to speak to Harry when you get the chance later today to just hand him the case.

Speak of the devil.

“Hey! How was the hearing?” he sounds jovial as he walks into your office with a bright smile. “Should I get another bottle of champagne for tonight? Of course when I say ‘get’ I meant ‘steal’ from downstairs.”

“The judge bit my head off,” you scoff.

He flashes you a quizzical look. “What? Why?”

“The other lawyer found some dirt about me,” you begin, already seething as you picture her face with that bloody smug smile in your head. “She found two of my old cases and said really nasty things about me to the judge. And before you say anything, no, I didn’t do anything illegal. But I’ve got to admit it was unethical.”

“Shit,” he looks at you, concerned. “Look, there’s no way they could’ve found all those shit just like that.”

“That’s what I’m thinking about,” you reply at once. “There’s got to be something bigger going on. This is a desperate move, I tell you.”

“I agree,” he nods. “It sounds shady, and in my experience the other side only does something like this when they’ve already done something even shadier.”

You look at him with a glint of hope. “So you also think they’re hiding something?”

“Yeah,” he sounds so sure. “And don’t worry, we’re gonna find it.”

“Good,” you remark. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let bloody Camille Sweetings get the better of me.”

“Wait, who?” this time, it’s Harry who looks like he has just seen a ghost. The colours have drained from his face, and you look at him in confusion.

“Camille Sweetings,” you repeat yourself, wrinkling your nose in disgust because you hate the sound of her name rolling out of your lips. “Why? Do you know her?”

“Have they put my name on this case?” he ignores your questions.

“Yeah, yesterday,” you frown. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath before he begins, looking at you in the eyes. “She and I, well, uh, we were together for a while.”

“What?!” you can’t hide your dismay. “Fucking hell, Harry. As if this isn’t complicated enough!”

You lapse into silence for a few seconds, neither of you knowing what to say.

“I think this is personal,” he ventures after the pause. “Look, if you want me off the case now, I completely understand. I won’t fight you. But I hope you don’t because you need help now more than ever.”

“Just,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Please get out of my office.”

***

By nine pm you’ve already come up with three win-win offers, yet Camille bloody Sweetings gives you a shrill laugh every time and shoots down every single one. Honestly, she is the female version of Harry. They make a great couple, those two shady bastards. They should’ve gotten married and make a couple of shady children.

“Sod off, Harry,” you say without even moving your head from looking at your computer, but you know he’s standing in front of your office, probably waiting for the right time to come in. Honestly, he might be a brilliant lawyer but he sucks big time at a simple game of hide and seek. Behind the wall? That’s a toddler-level hiding spot.

“No,” he insists, finally walking towards your desk. “I wanna help.”

“I told you I don’t need your help,” you give him a dismissive blink that makes him feel like an insect.

He says your name sternly, making you look in his direction and finally meets his eyes. “Believe me, you do. You think I’m shady? That bloody snake is ten times worse. You need help, and I don’t care what you say because I’ve just checked and my name is still on the attorneys listed.”

“Fine,” you concede. “Take a look at this. This is as best as she could get yet she bloody refused them all.”

Harry takes the files from your hand and quickly skims through the documents, muttering one or two profanities under his breath before he puts them back on your desk. “You know what, we’re going out tonight.”

Is he joking?

“My arse is on the line here in case you haven’t realised,” you look at him in disbelief. “She pulls shit like this again, it’s gonna cost me my license.”

Your name rolls out of his lips again and he looks at you without blinking. “Come on, we need to blow off some steam. We don’t do that, we’re gonna kill each other.”

Three hours later, you feel like you’ll never be able to get out of the comfiest bar stool you’ve ever sat on. You’ve never been to Hawksmoor, but Harry swears this place is good even though it’s filled with boring bankers with their ties stuffed in suit pockets (not that Harry’s tie isn’t also stuffed in his suit pocket, but, you know, at least he’s not a banker), so you followed his lead and let him take you here.

The salvaged furniture, low lighting, comfy seating and charming staff make it an easy place to settle into. Sitting beside you is Harry with his neat whiskey, which you realise that he hasn’t finished when you’ve already had three refills of your gin and tonics. Your head is most likely going to fall off tomorrow morning, you just know it.

“Argh,” you groan. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Right now?” Harry deadpan. “Huge quantities of alcohol.”

“Sod off,” you playfully nudge his shoulder. “By the way, you’ve got more ex-girlfriends lawyers I should know about?”

Harry laughs, his eyes crinkled and shining. “I’ll send you a list.”

“Good,” you mumble against the edge of the glass, before taking another swig of your drink.

“How about you?” Harry is smirking at you, one of his eyebrows arched high. “Any lawyers you’re seeing that I should know?”

You laugh. “I don’t shit where I eat.”

“Shut up,” Harry looks at you suspiciously, still with a huge shit-eating grin. “You’re telling me you’ve never got involved with anyone at work?”

There’s silence.

“Shit,” Harry remarks. “Who was it?”

You exhale sharply before you answer. “Luke.”

Harry takes a gulp of his drink. “Well, that makes sense.”

“You don’t even know which Luke I was talking about,” you frown. “You could be wrong, you know. There are millions of Lukes.”

“Oh, of course it’s Luke Whiteacre,” he chuckles. “Didn’t go to law school for nothing, did I? But I’ve got to say, it finally makes sense.”

“Don’t say anything to anyone,” you say sternly, starting to realise that you’ve probably made a mistake of telling him. “It was a long time ago anyway.”

“So, how was he?” he’s grinning.

You can’t help but laugh. “Are we having a girl talk right now?”

“No,” he shrugs carelessly. “Just wanna know how he was.”

“You want me to go into details?” you tease, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s glad you’re not as tense as a few hours prior. “Cause I could. What do you wanna know? Stamina? Girth? Technique? I could go on…”

“Ew!”

You’re laughing so hard that you nearly fell off the bar stool if Harry didn’t quickly catch you, and you realise this is the first time your arm brushes against his, and for a second you’ve both stilled, but you ignored it because this doesn’t mean anything. You’re both drunk anyway. “Why did you break up with she-who-must-not-be-named?” you peer at him.

“We had a pregnancy scare,” he says, looking down for a second at his drink before taking another swig.

“Shit,” you gape at him. “Was she-”

“No, she wasn’t,” he shakes his head. “But it made me realise that she’s not the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, let alone actually having children with. So I called it off.”

“Sorry,” you can’t help yourself from chuckling. “But you made the right decision. Don’t have a baby with a snake.”

“Don’t apologise, you’re right,” Harry joins you in laughter. “How about you and Luke? What happened?”

“Work got in the way,” you drain the rest of your drink before motioning for the bartender to get you another one. “I was only an associate back then so I worked so hard to get junior partner. And his company wasn’t as big as it is now so he was working crazy hours too because he was trying to expand it. We saw each other about three times a month for half a year before we called it off.”

“Three times a month?” his eyes widen in surprise.

“Mhm,” you hum, mouthing a thank you to the bartender as he hands you another drink. “We were besotted but we just didn’t have time for a relationship.”

“Do you still-”

“What? No,” you laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. The ship has sailed now.”

“Good,” he smiles at you, before hastily corrects himself. “I mean, good for you.”

You take another big gulp of your drink before you push it away. “Alright, playtime’s over,” you smirk at him. “Let’s get back to work.”

“Are you joking?” he gives you a quizzical look. “It’s nearly midnight and you’re drunk.”

“I just need two cups of coffee and a cold shower and I’ll be fine,” you reply as you hop off the bar stool, he quickly reaches his hand out for you to hold. “Let’s go back to my place so I can have a quick shower.”

“Let’s go to mine,” he offers. “Technically Maida Vale is closer from here than Hammersmith.”

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” you deadpan, your voice a little slurred. “Should’ve bought me dinner first, don’t you think?”

“Hey, I’ve bought you lots of dinners,” he retorts.

“No, Styles,” you shake your head, chuckling. “Clifford Chance bought me dinners. Been using the company’s card, haven’t you?”

Harry laughs. “You’ve got me.”

***

In under an hour, you’ve arrived at Harry’s flat, had a cup of coffee, and a cold shower just as you requested. You’ve ditched your work dress and slipped into the clothes that Harry had laid on his bed for you; a blue Mickey Mouse t-shirt and a pair of black shorts, and when you walk into his sitting room, you see him sitting on his plush sofa with some clipped documents in his hand.

Your eyes dart around his flat once again as you plop yourself down on his sofa. He’s got a great taste, you’ve got to admit, because his flat is lush. It’s on the fourth floor of a beautiful, red-brick, Edwardian mansion which Maida Vale is well-known for, and the inside is modern meets classic. The gray panelled walls blend nicely with the elegant patterned wood floor, and the cream curtains really tie the look of his flat altogether. It really is a gorgeous flat, not to mention the white marble en suite and his really neat, sparsely decorated bedroom.

“Alright,” you begin, taking a document into your hand and begin skimming through briefly only to put it back on the coffee table in less than thirty seconds. “I’ve been at it all day, we’ve been at it for a while and it’s getting us nowhere. I think we need to shake down some employees.”

“And that’s all well and good,” he turns to look at you. “But if we don’t know what to ask, we’re not going to get any answers.”

“Yes we will,” you insist. “They don’t know what we don’t know, do they?”

“They don’t know what we don’t know…”

“That’s literally what I just said,” you frown.

“No,” he shakes his head. “Look, I’m saying according to this report, their accounts are growing by 200% a month.”

“Wait a second,” you remark. “If that’s true then why are they clinging to this deal like it’s their newborn and I’m Herod?”

“Because maybe they’re not really growing by 200% a month,” Harry adds. “Look, March, 5 million new users, but 60% of these card holders don’t even seem to know they have the cards.”

“Holy shit,” your eyes widen in surprise. “The people are real, but the accounts are fake. Harry, this isn’t just shady, this is the type of shit that lands someone in prison. And if Camille knows all this…”

Harry grins. “Wait til the judge sees this.”

“The judge?” you look at him suspiciously. “Why don’t we just leverage them into letting us out?”

“Because, darling, we have the upper hand now,” he says, still grinning. “We can’t give her a chance to get it back.”

“Harry, if Camille has anything to do with this it would ruin her,” you warn him. “I can’t let you do this to someone you once cared about.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about her,” Harry says harshly. “Not anymore. If she doesn’t want to be ruined she shouldn’t have gotten involved in this. And she damn sure shouldn’t have fucked with someone I care about.”

“What?”

“You better get some sleep,” he jerks his head towards his bedroom. “We’re going to the court first thing in the morning.”

***

Harry’s bed has got to be one of the comfiest places on earth.

He gave you his bed for the night and opted for the couch, which you bet just as cosy so you didn’t really feel bad. When you wake up, he’s already clad in his white button-up shirt and black trousers, swinging the fridge open to get a freshly squeezed cranberry juice.

“Morning,” he smiles when he notices you as he pours some coffee and juice for both of you. “Have some toast.”

“You know how to treat your guest with a good breakfast, don’t you?” you tease him as you look around the jars on the breakfast nook. There are several kinds of luxury marmalade, strawberry jam with champagne, wild blossom honey and even Belgian chocolate spread. Honestly, who is this man?

“No hangover?”

“Surprisingly, no,” you chuckle. “I mean my head is pounding of course but it’s not too bad, nothing I can’t handle.”

“You want some nurofen?”

“No thanks,” you shake your head and take the cup of coffee from Harry’s hand. “Harry, we need to talk.”

He sighs. “You’re gonna try to change my mind, aren’t you?”

“I am,” you nod as you look through the jars of fancy jams, trying to choose one, before going with just salted butter instead. “I can’t let you do that. She might be a snake but I’m not. We’re not.”

Harry just look at you in silence, and you continue.

“If we do this, then what’s the difference between us and her?” you go on, trying to sound convincing. “We’re better than that. We’re good people, you know.”

“But we’re going to make her pay,” he finally concedes and you smile. “Really make her pay.”

“That I agree,” you nod. “Okay, I’ll just go home quickly to get changed then we’ll meet at the office? Need to pay her a visit don’t we?”

“We can just go together,” Harry suggests. “We’ll stop by your flat then we can go straight to that snake’s office.”

***

“Are you crazy?” Camille flashes an incandescent look at both you and Harry. “I sign that, my client will be on the brink of bankruptcy!”

“So you rather go to prison?” Harry frowns and you try to stifle your giggle. “I mean, it’s your choice, but-”

“Fine!” she says in exasperation. “I’ll sign it. But give me your word this wouldn’t go out of these walls.”

You hand her the file and pen, and as she’s signing it, you can’t resist yourself. “You go near me or my clients again I swear to god you are dead fucking meat.”

Harry can’t help but chuckling, and you both don’t waste another minute in Camille’s office before you head out with smug smiles plastered across both of your faces.

“You’re a badass lawyer,” he compliments you as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Stating the obvious there,” you smirk as you slide into his car and buckle up your seat belt. “But thank you, you’re not a shit lawyer yourself.”

“Since we’re passing compliments, shall we do it over a drink?”

“Drinks, Styles,” you shoot him a savage smile. “And you’re buying. Not Clifford Chance.”

Harry laughs, closing the car’s door. “As you wish.”

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#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles drabbles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #lawyer!harry #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles ff

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please-buckme · 4 years

Text

The Assistant

Hayden Christensen x reader

Chapter 2

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

It’s a Saturday and it’s late. Mr. Christensen asked you to come in just in case he needed something. All you did was sit there, on your phone, rolling around in your chair. The only productive thing you’d done since coming in was get dinner from a restaurant down the block.

You’d be more okay with coming in on your days off if you actually had work to do or liked him but you didn’t. He also kept the door shut so you were utterly and completely alone. Every now and then you’d ask if he needed anything; coffee, something from the vending machine, for you to pick up dessert, a soul but he’d just wave you off.

It had gotten late and you were extremely bored, not to mention exhausted. You continued to roll the chair back and forth before deciding it was time for you to go home. You packed up your belongings and contemplated for a moment. Should you just leave? It doesn’t seem like a fireable offense but at the same time, did you care? All your hard work over the past 6 months wasn’t worth it, you thought. You’d simply just tell him you’re going home. What’s so bad about that..?

You walked over to his office door and knocked hesitantly before opening it just a crack. “Yes.” You open the door a bit more following his response. Papers were stroan atop his desk as he studied the paper in front of him.

“I was just, um, do you need anything before I go?” You ask.

“You're leaving?”

“Well we’ve been here for hours and you haven’t asked anything of me work related so I thought-“

“You’re not having fun, is that what you’re saying?” He looks up at you now, eyebrows furrowed.

It wasn’t on purpose but you felt a small smile tug at your cheeks. “Uh, no.” To your surprise he just smirked in response. You heard him click his pen shut as he rose from his desk and stretched his arms over his head. You’d never seen him this disheveled before tonight. His necktie was thrown to the floor along with his jacket. He had on a blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top button undone. This new side of him made you slightly worried. Was something wrong that he didn’t want to tell you about? You didn’t want to cross a line by asking but you were nosy at heart so you did, “Is something wrong?”

He gave you a puzzled look, bringing his arms back down out of their stretched position. “No. Why do you ask?” He walked around to the front of his desk. You watched as he leaned against it, lazily and folded his arms over his chest. Was he drunk? You’d never seen him drunk. Someone so structured wouldn’t do that at work, would they? The thought of him being drunk made you a little uneasy so you just decided to drop it.

“Uh, no reason. Am I good to go?” He gave you a sloppy smile while standing from his leaning state. He sauntered towards you slowly still crossing his arms over his chest. You stood there quietly staring at the floor trying desperately to avoid eye contact. You waited to see his glossy shoes as he approached you, immediately smelling the liquor that seemed to be seeping through his pores. “Let me make you a drink.” He drunkenly mumbled.

“Uh, no thanks. I really should be-”

“I insist.” He says cutting you off, again.

You sigh in frustration. If you didn’t like him sober, would you really like him drunk? He did make it kind of sound like you had no choice in the matter though. “O-okay just one though and then I really need to get home.” He backed away from you and gestured to the seat in front of his desk. You slumped your shoulders in defeat, dragging your feet across the carpeted floor to the vacant seat across from his. .

“What's your poison?” He asked over his shoulder.

“I’m not much of a drinker so I guess whatever you’re having.” That was sort of a lie, you just wanted to get this night over with and go home.

You heard the liquid pour following the sound of the cap spinning back onto the bottle. He handed you your drink which seemed to be whiskey in an, of course, beautiful glass. You took a sip as he sat down across from you. It tasted expensive, almost too good for your own taste buds. Taking another sip you looked up to see him staring at you, circling his drink in the air. This is the longest the two of you had spent time together when it wasn’t work related, so you didn’t quite know what to say. He was fixated on your face looking intently at you. He clearly didn’t mind the awkward silence but you did, so you said, “Um, thank you for the drink, Sir.”

“Hayden.”

“What?” you asked, confusion in your voice.

“That’s my name.” He told you as if you didn’t already know.

“I-I know, I practically know everything about you,” you laugh before continuing, “but i’d like to keep things professional, if you don’t mind, Mr. Christensen.” For a moment he looked at you in confusion but then relaxed his face, taking a sip of his drink.

“You’re very good at your job, you know?” You blush at his compliment. He had never come close to saying anything like that in all the months you’d worked for him.

“Uh, thank you, sir. That actually means a lot.” You gushed.

“So you know everything about me, you say?” The smirk reappearance on his face.

You laugh, “I said ‘practically everything’ it’s literally my job.” You continued laughing, making him chuckle a bit at your words.

“Yes, that’s true.” He says bringing the glass back up to his lips. His lips. You’d never actually studied his facial features, of course you’d seen his face a million times but you were never really looking at him. You watched his bottom lip against the glass and couldn’t help but notice how plump it was. When he lowered his glass you saw them in their fullness. They seemed soft and almost delicate. You watched him move his mouth as he spoke to you, not focusing on the words at all. Turning your focus now to his nose, it was, um, boopy and actually perfect. Usually a nose has some sort of ill-favored feature but not his.

You were about to make contact with his eyes that you’d become all too familiar with when he waved a hand in front of your face, ruining your focus. Clearing your throat and taking a small sip of your drink you asked, “I’m sorry, what?” He laughed.

“I asked how long you’d been living here.” He restated. You were so embarrassed. He clearly caught you staring but you couldn’t help but notice the blush now on his face, you’d flattered him. This made you think of his ex wife, had she ever really seen him the way you just had? The amount of time he spends in the office you weren’t even sure how they met. You’d met her once though. One of those totally gorgeous, model type bodied women who only marry into money. That’s why she wanted him back so badly, without him she’s broke.

You cleared your throat again, then answered, “The second I got the call about the job.” You didn’t apply for the job exactly. When you graduated one of your favorite professors sent his company your resumé. After the last assistant quit they called you immediately. “Did you know I didn’t apply?” You asked out of curiosity.

“Hm? How did you get the job then? Well known family?” He asked. You couldn’t help but bust out laughing. What wealthy family would put their daughter through this?

“No offense but if I were from a wealthy family,” you leaned in a little closer to whisper, “I wouldn’t be here.” The whiskey was definitely kicking in on even from just a few sips. You felt much more confident in talking to him.

He laughed at your answer, “That’s fair.” He continued to laugh while finishing off his drink. Not wanting him to be alone you finished yours off too. “Another?” He asked.

“Oh no, I really should be heading home.” You set the glass down on his desk while standing up.

“Should I walk you home?” What? Okay maybe he should be drunk more often, you actually liked him a lot more this way. Even though it’d be nice to have someone walk you home, he was still your boss. You wanted to be professional about your relationship.

“Oh thank you but no.” It came out harsher than you’d meant it. “I mean the gesture was really nice I just- yeah.” He laughed. His laugh was a pleasant sight. His perfect white teeth complimented his beautiful tan skin, especially in this lighting.

“Can I walk you out then?” You nodded in agreement. You slipped your backpack on before heading to the elevators.

The elevator ride was awkward. He stood on the wall opposite of you and twiddled with his fingers like a child. It amazed you how different a person can be when not at their best. If this was his worst though it flattered him. It’s sad but he had been much nicer in those thirty minutes than he’d been to you in a whole day. You wouldn’t actually mind going to work if this guy was your boss.

Once the elevator opened you both sprung up in relief. He walked you down the long empty hallway inching closer and closer to you with every step. “It was nice talking to you.” He whispered so quietly you almost didn’t hear him.

“Oh, you too.” You looked up at him shyly as you approached the front door. He towered over you, standing much closer than you realized. His eyes darted from your eyes to your lips. Your heart skipped a beat when you made eye contact with him. He swayed slightly back and forth throwing a hand up over your head to rest on the door frame. “I-I should go.” You said not breaking eye contact with him. He answered with ‘mhmm’ but you weren’t moving. Why weren’t you moving? He started inching closer and closer and you still couldn’t move. You could feel his breath on your face now. You wanted to be professional in this moment but you’d be lying if a tiny, microscopic piece of you didn’t want to attack his face.

He leaned in a little closer hovering over your lips before whispering, “Goodnight.” He pulled away from you completely with a smirk on his face. You blushed but laughed. As if he actually wanted to kiss you.

“See you Monday, Mr. Christensen.” He waves while walking back to the elevators. You exit the building feeling absolutely thankful you didn’t kiss your boss.

Chapter 3

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #star wars #anakin skywalker x reader #fanfic #star wars fanfiction #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen imagines #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen reader insert #star wars fandom #star wars fangirl

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spaztronautwriter · 4 years

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@eloquence-of-felicities said: Either Oliver or Felicity finding a lost cellphone leading to a chance encounter. :)

Felicity took a long sip of her, admittedly, too sweet, sugary latte as she plopped her bag down on the empty table, claiming it for herself and Curtis. He followed a moment later, two pastries and his own black coffee in his hands.

It had been a long week and they were both enjoying a quiet breakfast date at their favorite coffee shop. The two of them had been best friends since their time at MIT, but with their busy jobs at Queen Consolidated and Palmer Tech—not to mention Curtis recently getting married!—they just hadn’t had the time to hang out like they used to. Hence, Curtis declaring Saturday morning’s date night, so to speak.

He handed her her cinnamon roll and sat down in his chair, before jumping slightly. “Ow!”

Felicity put her breakfast down, taking a seat herself as Curtis reached beneath him to pull out a sleek, black cellphone—sans case. She was just pulling in a breath to start in on a lecture—because why wouldn’t someone put a case on their phone? It was a delicate piece of technology that needed protection!—when she noticed the strange look Curtis was giving it.

“Guess someone lost it,” he said with a shrug, placing it on the table.

Felicity took another sip of her drink before reaching over to give the phone a look. It was the latest Q-phone and, despite working for the company that made it, she was a little in awe at actually be holding one in her hands. They were crazy expensive, far outside her budget, but the technology that Queen Consolidated had included in this edition had almost tempted her to splurge.

She tapped the screen with her finger, lighting up the display. There was no personalized background photo, just the blue gradient that came stock. She was about to take it up to the counter to turn it in to lost and found when it buzzed, a green text bubble popping up on screen.

Where are you?

Then another, Ollie this isn’t funny! I’m going to kill you!

She tapped the bubble, a message popping up prompting her for a password.

Ethically, she knew she should just turn the phone in at the counter, finish her breakfast date with Curtis, and go about her Saturday. But, curiosity always had gotten the best of her and today was no different, so, working her magic—she was a computer genius, after all—she hacked into the phone.

The text message app was open to a one sided string of increasingly aggravated text messages from someone named Thea, who apparently had been trying to get in touch with the phone’s owner for the last half an hour. Felicity felt a little bad for the guy, since he’d clearly lost his phone and wasn’t just ignoring this girl. She closed out of the app and tapped the settings icon, hoping the owner had entered all of his contact information. See? She wasn’t just being nosy. She just wanted to make sure the owner got his phone back. Hacking was just the simplest way to do that.

But, the moment the app opened, prominently displaying the name of said owner, Felicity realized just what a bad idea that was.

“That’s Oliver Queen’s phone,” she said, nearly tossing it back on the table.

“What?!” Curtis reached over, grabbing it up and tapping excitedly on the screen.

“Curtis, no!”

“Oh, come on, Felicity.” He grinned at the screen. “How often does an opportunity to snoop on an actual billionaire present itself?”

“And my boss,” she added, trying to grab the phone away.

He ignored her, pulling it out of her reach. “He’ll never know we looked.”

Just then the phone vibrated again, causing Curtis to flinch so hard he almost sent it flying. Felicity swore she saw her life flashing before her eyes.

“It’s from his sister,” Curtis whispered, wide eyes flashing across the screen. “She’s really angry with him.” Then Curtis jolted and looked up. “It’s her wedding. He’s late for her wedding!”

“What?” Felicity was having a really hard time following along, what with the panic attack she could feel coming on. All she wanted to do was get the phone back from Curtis and take it over to the staff at the counter. Or better yet, Queen Consolidated. The guys at the front desk there would get it back to Mr. Queen and she wouldn’t get fired for hacking her boss’s phone.

She glanced up to see Curtis’s fingers flying across the phone screen. Typing. Curtis was typing.

On Oliver Queen’s phone.

She grabbed for the phone, this time successfully, and pulled it into her chest. “What are you doing?!”

“Just letting her know her brother isn’t dead in a ditch somewhere,” Curtis said, like it was obvious. “It’s her wedding day, she shouldn’t have to worry.”

“How do you know it’s her wedding?”

“How do you not?” Curtis countered. “It’s been all over the gossip sites for weeks.”

Heaving a sigh, Felicity looked down at the phone to see what Curtis had sent.

Hi. I just found this phone at Jitters and wanted to know who I could return it to?

Okay. That wasn’t so bad. Forget the fact that he shouldn’t have even been able to open the phone without the password, much less reply to a text.

She placed the phone back on the table and breathed deeply.

“It’s fine, Felicity. We’re just returning the phone.”

She nodded, and tried to concentrate on ripping a piece off of her cinnamon roll. She wasn’t sure she could eat it, what with the somersaults her stomach was doing, but it gave her something to do with her hands as they awaited a reply.

“Why are you getting so freaked out over this?” Curtis asked, taking a sip of his coffee and looking way too nonchalant. “Is this about your crush?”

“This is about me just inadvertently hacking my boss’s phone,” she hissed. “That’s, like, gotta be a fireable offense. And I do not have a crush!”

Curtis snorted. “Really?”

She narrowed her eyes. “One: you have to know someone to have a crush on them, and two—

The phone vibrated again and Felicity’s heart jumped into her throat.

Curtis casually pulled the phone closer so he could read the screen, then smirked up at her. “Well, here’s your chance to get to know him.”

He spun the phone towards her so she could see the text for herself.

Can you meet at St. Mark’s Cathedral downtown? 20 min? Please?

###

“I cannot believe I let myself be talked into this.”

Felicity grabbed the phone from Curtis’s hand as he pulled up to the curb in front of a large cathedral. It was beautiful, but imposing and she felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach.

Curtis wanted her to go in there. Alone.

“Why can’t we just park the car and go in together?”

“Because I’ll never find a spot. Just run in real quick. Thea asked you to come.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “You might want to hurry though, before the actual wedding starts.”

She cringed, and glanced down at her outfit. She’d put on a floral dress that morning. It was cute, but in no way passable as wedding attire.

“Okay, fine.” She clenched the phone tightly, then popped the door open and climbed out.

She took the stairs up into the cathedral and slipped inside the slightly open door. She could hear strums of music echoing through the vestibule and snuck a peek into the church. There were loads of guests moving to take their seats, but she didn’t see Thea or Oliver Queen anywhere. A man, maybe thirty, with dark hair and an overly charming smile spotted her and she suddenly felt like a deer in the headlights.

Tommy Merlyn.

She recognized him from paparazzi photos with Oliver Queen. Not that she spent much time looking at paparazzi photos of her boss. She didn’t. It was just… sometimes when she was perusing the internet during lunch, she’d stumble across a gossip blog or two. It wasn’t her fault Oliver Queen and his friends frequently made headlines.

“Why, hello,” Tommy Merlyn purred as he approached her. He stepped out of the church and into the vestibule, forcing her to take a quick step back. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Tommy.”

“Felicity,” she said, clutching the phone tighter. “Smoak.”

“Do you need a seatmate, Felicity Smoak?” He shot her another too charming smile, eyes drifting down as he took her in. “Because, not to toot my own horn, but I’ve been told I make an excellent seatmate at these things.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of wrapped candies. “I bring mints.”

Despite the heavy flirting, something about that gesture put her at ease and she smiled. “No, I’m actually just here to drop off this phone I found.”

She waved it around for him to see and recognition spread across his face.

“You found Ollie’s phone!” He grinned, conspiratorially. “He’s been freaking out about it since he showed up. Wait here, I’ll get him for you.”

“Oh, no, you can just—“

But he was already gone.

Her stomach fluttered nervously and she stepped back until her bare shoulders came into contact with the smooth stone wall of the vestibule. She was about to meet Oliver Queen. Oliver Queen, who, yes okay, she’d had the silliest crush on since she was a teenager and he’d made headlines just for being the attractive son of rich, tech moguls.

It was stupid to be nervous. Felicity felt stupid. She closed her eyes, pulling in a steadying breath to try and calm herself.

“Hi.”

Her eyes shot wide and there he was, standing in front of her, looking like something out of a movie. His tuxedo was tailored perfectly and pulled taut across his shoulders in a way Felicity would have loved to admire had he not been standing right there, clearly waiting for her to respond.

“Hi!” she blurted way too cheerfully in order to hide her nerves. She didn’t think she accomplished it. “I think you were looking for this.”

She held up his cellphone and he smiled, stepping closer.

“Thank you so much.”

He took the phone, their fingers brushing as he did, and Felicity pulled her hand back quickly, ignoring the spark that coursed through her.

“Of course,” she said, feeling a babble coming on, but completely helpless to stop it. “I can’t imagine what I’d do if I ever lost my phone. Well, no, I actually have an app that will ping its location if it’s ever lost so I’d just go back and get it, but…”

Noticing his wide-eyed stare in the face of her malfunctioning brain to mouth filter, she slammed her eyes shut and counted backwards from three in her head before looking back at him.

“Sorry. I should go.”

“Wait!”

He reached out as she turned to leave, brushing his fingers along her wrist, causing another spark to shoot up her arm. This time he must have felt it too, because he pulled back like she’d burned him.

“I… um.” He blinked at her, looking slightly confused, like he’d lost his train of thought. “I’d like to thank you for bringing it by so quickly. My sister is getting married today, as you can probably tell.” He smiled, gesturing behind him. “And she wanted me to give a speech during the ceremony, but I typed it out on my phone, then… lost my phone.”

“You didn’t save it in the cloud? This model should do it automatically.”

Oliver Queen blinked, a slight tint rising in his cheeks. “Oh. I didn’t… I didn’t even think of that.”

Felicity smiled, a little bit charmed by his embarrassment. Guess even sexy, billionaires get embarrassed from time to time.

Suddenly, Oliver’s expression shifted, the bashful quirk of his lips lifting into a flat out smirk.

“Sexy, huh?”

Now it was Felicity’s turn to pink up, or, in her case, turn beet red. Frack her broken brain to mouth filter. Oliver was still smiling, though. He stepped closer, pushing his hands into his pockets.

“I was going to give you a cash reward for bringing it back, but…” His smile turned soft and infectious. She found herself smiling back. “Would you care to get dinner with me instead?”

“Oh.” It was about all Felicity could articulate at the moment.

“Felicity! I actually managed to find a parking spot—Oh!”

Felicity didn’t look away from Oliver long enough to see Curtis, but she could picture his expression. Oliver looked though, his expression falling as he realized Curtis was with her.

Frack.

“Curtis, this is Oliver Queen,” she said, pulling herself back together. “Mr. Queen, this is—“

“Please,” he interrupted, “call me Oliver.”

“Oliver,” she said softly, as if tasting his name on her tongue. She shot him a slow smile, never breaking eye contact. “This is Curtis, my best friend.”

Oliver’s eyes skipped to Curtis for a moment before landing back on her, his smile returning. “It’s nice to meet you both… Felicity, was it?”

“Felicity Smoak.”

He extended his hand and, this time, when the spark shot through them, neither let go.

“So… Dinner?” He shrugged, looking somehow both confident and nervous all at once. “It’s the least I can do.”

Behind her, Curtis made a small sound that she could only imagine would turn into many large sounds as soon as they were back out in the car, but for now Felicity only had eyes for Oliver.

“Dinner sounds great.”

Send me a trope!

#olicity fanfiction #olicity

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kenyatta · 4 years

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For me, the job was temporary — a way to take advantage of my young, yet-to-be-aching bones for $15 an hour and enough daily exercise to sustain a penchant for drinking like Hank Williams without gaining weight. For my father, though, it represented security that he’d taken for granted prior to losing his insurance job. We celebrated the night he finished his probationary period as a full-time letter carrier, officially entering the National Association of Letter Carriers (NALC) with more than 250,000 other laborers across the country. He’d spent his first 90 days walking his route on eggshells, knowing that the slightest infraction would send him spiraling back toward financial implosion for our family. Once probation ended and he was a union man, anything short of a felony would result in nothing more than a write-up and scolding from the postmaster (i.e., the head of his specific post office).

That type of security was crucial to us. For families that don’t come from means, the only way to create any semblance of long-term stability is to luck into a job that you can count on to exist a decade in the future, of which there are fewer and fewer as massive companies find new ways to decrease overhead by exploiting legal loopholes so that they can provide diminishing guarantees for those who make them wealthy.

My father’s union gave him that, and the spirit of solidarity went beyond union dues. Tenured carriers would provide an assist to those in probationary periods, such as the time in West Chester when a 22-year-old carrier knocked off one of his truck’s mirrors during his first 90 days, shattering it in the process. Damage to a truck is an immediately fireable offense (without union protection, of course), so a carrier with 25 years of service time arrived on the scene holding a wrench. According to the carrier who damaged the truck, the NALC veteran told him that he had “two mirrors on his truck and was going to get a coffee, and when he finished his coffee, I had better have taken one of them.” The carrier cleared his 90 days and has continued at USPS for over 10 years.

#labor #work #usps

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itssheriffstilinski · 4 years

Text

Drabble - Alcoholism

It’s the third day in a row that Noah has woken up to a pounding headache. Nausea rolls in his stomach as Noah shifts onto his side and it takes all of his willpower to keep from vomiting. Once the urge subsides, Noah dares to crack his eyes open. The room is spinning, even before Noah’s eyes adjust to the rays of light piercing through a crack in the curtains.

Shit. What time is it? A glance at his alarm clock tells Noah that it’s almost ten. On a Thursday. Not only is he late for work, but it’ll be the second time this week that Noah is late dropping Stiles off at school. There had already been a note sent home and Noah doesn’t have the energy to meet with a fourth grade teacher about his own instability. Claudia would be so disappointed.

The glass bottle -- nearly full last night -- lies on it’s side, almost empty. Don’t. Noah reaches for the bottle, downing the last of the whiskey in one gulp. The liquid doesn’t even burn anymore. The shot (it was more like a double) is enough to help Noah untangle himself from the sheets and drag himself to the bathroom. Enough to allow Noah to start yet another day without Claudia.

Dead eyes stare back at him from the mirror. Noah pauses, toothbrush halfway to his mouth, and stares at his reflection sullenly. He’s overdue for a haircut. Days-old stubble adorns his face, dark circles beneath his eyes made even more prominent by the disarray. Slurred thoughts begin to spiral, guilt like a ton of brick on his chest.

How had Noah allowed himself to sink so low? Only weeks since Claudia’s funeral------ Noah shakes his head, forcing thoughts to return to the present, to the task at hand. Brushing the scent of whiskey from his teeth and throwing on a dirty uniform (it’s been at least a week since he’s bothered with the laundry) before shuffling down the stairs.

Stiles is sitting on the couch with the television on, backpack resting at his feet and concern clouding innocent features. Noah aches. At ten years old, Stiles should know only happiness. His son should not have to deal with the loss of his mother. The loss of his father.

Noah shouldn’t drive. Knows it’s a bad idea as he grabs his keys and shoots an apologetic grimace at Stiles as the boy turns the television off and slings his batman backpack over his shoulder. “Sorry, kiddo.” Stiles doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even glance in Noah’s direction as they climb into the car.

It’s fine. He’s not drunk. Barely even buzzed. Yet. The engine revs and Noah backs out of the driveway, speeding down the road and toward the elementary school. A glance in the rear-view mirror reveals a sulking Stiles staring out the window. Noah has to swallow a few times to get rid of the lump in his throat.

“Have a good day at school. Say hi to Scott for me.”

Stiles slams the car door shut. Noah doesn’t blame him.

Once the double doors close behind Stiles, Noah shifts into drive and heads to the station.

Avoids concerned looks from deputies as he heads to his office, shutting the door and pulling open the bottom right drawer of his desk. Another bottle of whiskey, this one almost three quarters full. A pang of guilt -- one that can easily be assuaged with another drink. Or three. Noah barely hesitates before bringing the bottle to his lips. Welcoming the numbness as the buzz builds, calming the turmoil within his mind.

It’s a fireable offense, drinking on the job. Hell, they probably should fire him. Paperwork is piling up, cases passed to deputies as Noah drinks himself stupid. Perhaps they’re allowing some time for Noah to grieve. (And grieve he has not, choosing instead to chase the bottom of the bottle.) Over a month and he’s pushing it, though. Two warnings in the last few weeks -- and a third likely approaching.

Noah groans as he lowers himself into his seat, leaning back and taking another swig straight from the bottle. So what if he gets fired? It doesn’t matter. His world had shattered with the loss of Claudia. Trudging through each day is agony. It’s impossible to survive without his crutch, without numbing the constant sorrow.

Stiles. Not even the buzzing in his mind can mask the pain, the fury directed inward. Stiles deserves more. Deserves better. Deserves Claudia.

#talk to me about this #come suffer with me #POOR FUCKIGN STILES #drabble;#tw: death #tw: alcoholism #tw: drunk driving #tw: neglect

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petty-revenge-stories · 5 years

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Bring petty high school drama to my place of work? Kiss your job goodbye.

So I used to work at a Noodles & Co, and my ex best friend (we’ll call her Kelly) worked down the street at a massage place. Both of our stores are part of a larger shopping center, and employees at any of the shops there get a free drink WITH the purchase of a meal or appetizer.

So one day I had just clocked in to work, and I was standing close to the registers (not at them) looking at the chart to see what I would be doing for my shift. In walks Kelly, my best-friend-turned-arch-nemesis.

Now, Kelly and I had graduated high school by a year and a half at this point and were still not on speaking terms being that we did not end our friendship on good terms and every time she tried to talk to me about anything it was always nasty. When she wasn’t harassing me in person she would often send me horrible texts calling me names and telling me how I’m not going anywhere in life. Just really laying it on thick.

She walks up to me and asks “Hey sasstiel, can I get some drinks for me and my boss?” Now, I’m obviously not at the register and not taking orders, and I’m not going to give her free drinks without her making a purchase. There were 2 people who were on the registers at the time, she could have walked up to either one of them but instead chose to come to me. I set down the chart and look at her and laugh. Then I just walk away from her. I immediately head back to my GM to tell her what I just did just in case it came back to bite me in the ass. GM proceeds to tell me she would have done the exact same thing if it were her in that situation.

A few hours go by and my GM had left the store to go on break, and I had pretty much forgotten about the whole Kelly incident by that point when one of our shift managers calls me into the office. He tells me that they had gotten not one, but two different online complaints about me. They’re both along the lines of “I came in to buy some food and your employee Sasstiel refused me service” and “I got service but your employee was very rude.” (The funny thing about it is that the full complaint makes it seem like she doesn’t know who I am, but used my name, spelled correctly - and we don’t wear name tags) One complaint was under her real name and the other was under a fake name, but she used the first three letters of her real name. If this were a real complaint from someone who actually tried to get food this would very easily be a fireable offense. I explained the situation to him and he understood and said that he’d talk to GM about it but doubts that I would get in any trouble for it.

GM comes back from her break and the shift manager explains what’s happened. GM is absolutely livid and is 100% on my side. She knows that Kelly works down the street at the massage place and is pretty good friends with the manager there. She calls her up and sets up a meeting to talk with the manager about Kelly. Apparently management there had been having problems with Kelly already (starting drama between coworkers and generally being a poor worker) and this was the final straw for them.

The official reason for firing her was “Sabotaging professional relationships,” since she was in uniform and representing their store when she came in demanding free drinks. I’m pretty sure they had just been waiting for another reason to let her go. After that, I never saw her come into noodles again and I never got another text from her.

TLDR: ex best friend tries to get me fired from my job while in her own work uniform, ends up getting fired from her own job.

(source) (story by Sasstiel)

#pettyrevenge #by Sasstiel #petty revenge #revenge stories #petty revenge stories #petty #revenge #revenge story #last10

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jacktherph · 5 years

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jack, my friend!! i hope all is okay. i'm wondering about your experience as a barista?? are there things about its portrayal in the rpc that are inaccurate or annoying to you?? being a barista is probably the most popular job characters have on here!! what impact does being trans, ace, queer have on your workplace environment if you don't mind talking about it?

oh man olivia, oh man. you’re gonna have me GO aren’t you?? i’m doing better ilusm bb

okay so disclaimer that i’ve only been a barista at sun-dollars (think of synonyms) for a year now. i’ve never done it at some fancy, privately owned shop, and my experience isn’t that of everyone else!! i’m also pretty damn low on my totem poll, too, so keep that in mind

so when i was hired, i worked at a small cafe store for a few months; small outside patio, small parking spaces, located in a tiny strip mall off a main road, maybe a max crew of 20 or less?? but now we all relocated to one of the busiest drive thru stores in our district; large outside patio, giant inside seating, one of the only stores with a conference room in the CITY, a drive thru that pretty much… never stops, and a stand-alone building on the same main road. and wow what a difference there is

this thing ended up being super long so it’s under a cut

note:: this is really for people looking to portray accurate, non-dramatized versions of barista life, and the whole thing is largely fueled by personal experience. hope it helps??

on THE JOB ITSELF :

if you think its an easy job, please get out of my face. if you think it’s super complicated and hard, there’s a bit for you to learn here. and most importantly–if you think fucking with a barista is fun, go to hell

firstly–there is a lot to remember. there’s the drink standard; how the drink is supposed to be made without any customization. then there’s whatever people add and change about it. then there’s “i asked for five mocha pumps but this tastes like you didn’t put five in, remake it.” and then there’s “i think i know how a drink is made, but i don’t, but i’ll still tell you how to do your job.”

there is a specific routine for making drinks called SEQUENCING that we’re supposed to learn as soon as possible. it ensures that, if you’re on bar, you are always making part of a drink and finishing another. steam milk, queue shots, turn and start blending a frappuccino, while that’s in the blender turn back and finish the hot drink, hand it out, steam another milk, queue more shots, turn and pour frappuccino, hand it out, etc etc etc

personally, i’m not the best on bar. i know people who are stunningly gorgeous at it – who can sequence without fail. but it requires a LOT of mental work. not a lot of room for talking unless there’s only one drink or two to make. any character who is “skilled” at being a barista probably doesn’t spend their shift talking, but working in hasty silence when it is busy

being on register is my personal skill. i always work drive thru orders. yes, we have specific buttons for everything, but with as many combinations as sun-dollars has, there’s still an infinite number of ways to mess it up if you don’t know what you’re doing. and if the order comes out wrong, it gets made wrong, and then the barista on bar gets the brunt of the abuse from the customer and has to mess up their sequence by remaking it

on TIPPING YOUR BARISTA :

at sun-dollars, we’re paid just slightly above minimum wage and a huge chunk of our money is tips, which at a store of our size are still under a dollar earned an hour, then divided by how many hours you worked, and how many people worked that week and their hours too. tips don’t always add up to much, because people never think about tipping us

but here’s the thing. we make everything by hand just like someone would at a restaurant. sometimes more than once if one little thing is wrong. we burn our hands on hot coffee and water, we slip and fall, we haul heavy things around. even if you don’t see it, we do it. so please… tip your barista because we make everything and serve it to you just like at any other food business

on MONEY EARNED :

a part-time barista position, maybe working 25-30 hours a week with included tips, is NOT ENOUGH TO HAVE AN APARTMENT ON. not anywhere outside of fantasy land anyway

take that example. if i get 10.55/hour, and work 25 hours one week and 16 the next (which is a GOOD week for me, holy shit), and my tips are… $15 for both weeks, then I’ve made around… $475~ after taxes are taken out. no. so many of my fellow partners have second, third jobs. or their spouse earns the majority of the money. or they still live at home–like myself. it simply isn’t a job you can live on independently

i.e. this is a callout to the “barista who somehow lives without a roommate and doesn’t constantly complain about how hungry they are” trope

on WRITING ON CUPS :

yes, sun-dollars used to write on cups. but now we have a sticker system that is ten times more efficient. yes, we still write on the cups if our machine goes down, or if we have a messed up drink, any number of things. but it isn’t common for a busy store to write on cups daily anymore

that being said, let’s talk about our big fave trope: muse a writes their number on the cup for muse b because they flirted at the handoff plane. YOU CAN GET FIRED FOR THIS. it is immediately a fireable offense, no questions asked. i know it ruins the CUTESY moment but it’s a thing. best to keep your ship intact and employed by having them ask when the barista is on a break.

yes, we misspell names. it happens. whether your fingers slip up on the touch screen or you just didn’t hear it right. but no barista i know would risk their job and security by purposefully writing a malicious name on a cup. end of

on CUSTOMER CONNECTION :

the cafe store had been around for years in a community where snowbirds (old people who come to the warmth of arizona for the winter) are the largest customer base. that, plus the small crew, meant that the partners (baristas) had a long-established rapport with many of the customers. i remember on my first official day working, so many people kept telling me “my usual” and my partners had to keep reminding the customers to order properly, since i was new and didn’t know them yet

but once i got to know the regulars–and it definitely took a lot of time–it showed me the incredible connection people have with their baristas. we joke that as baristas, we’re unpaid therapists with a coffee in hand. people tell their barista SO MUCH. but it’s fascinating, really; sometimes it’s just plain oversharing, but sometimes you just get to be connected to a person you see every day, even if it’s only for a minute or two

now, at my drive thru store, i have my personally labelled “night regs” who i see pretty much every time i work. i know their names, their orders by heart, and sometimes stuff about their family or lives. and for those who are grateful, you’d be surprised the brightening affect on someone’s day it can be when you remember their order and ask them about something they mentioned last week

recently, a family who comes through my drive almost every day suffered a loss in their family. i could tell something was different because they weren’t joking around with me. they ended up sharing and it brought us really close. they even came to visit me when i worked on christmas day. recently, they had a family bbq and actually drove all the way to the store to bring me a plate of leftovers because of an inside joke we all have. i don’t give them discounts–big no no–or free drinks. they pay like everyone else. but we’ve grown really close and they make my work day nicer because i know i’m making people happy

so often when i see people writing baristas, the character is a certain archetype: the aloof one, the bubbly one, the romantic one, for examples. but i think the connection between a barista (even an introverted one like myself) and a regular is really undervalued!! the fact that we have worked so hard to maintain that customer personal connection with our regulars even though we have thousands more people a week has really shown me a lot about how people interact with one another

on RUDE CUSTOMERS :

it takes a LOT to kick someone out of a store. like a LOT. we’ve only ended up kicking out one person because they were repeatedly stealing from our food display, and then we could only do it once we got proof. so no, being rude to the barista once isn’t an offense that can get them removed. somehow

people are rude. collectively. some are nice, but people are rude. whether it’s the cranky person who insists they ordered their drink iced but the sticker says hot, the person who repeatedly asks “is my drink ready?” even though the sticker line is as long as i am tall, the person who demands their drink be remade for any reason valid or otherwise with a big attitude, or the drive thru car who has an attitude because they expected to be in and out but their wait time is 15 minutes because the car ahead of them ordered for their entire church. people will find a way to be rude, even if they don’t know it

what do we do? we smile, apologize and take blame, and do it over. especially at sun-dollars; the customer IS ALWAYS RIGHT. welcome to the service industry

on ACCEPTANCE :

i’m very lucky when i can say sun-dollars is a very accepting environment. being a trans and queer partner, i had my identity accepted right away by my coworkers. i also make it a point to let them know that if they have any questions about my identity, they can ask it to my face within reason. this has led to some really heartfelt interactions with my fellow partners, because it was how they learned some things about identities other than theirs

customers… well it’s touch-and-go. i live in a primarily… single-minded area. but i know i’m not the only one who knows this – being trans in a workplace is a touch-and-go thing. i’ve had people who only hear my voice call me “miss” at the speaker and correct themselves to “sir” at the window when they see my beard. i’ve had stubborn old people refuse to say my name. you still have to serve them, and personally, i avoid correcting people to avoid any sort of confrontation

my specific workplace is very personal; we know a lot about one another’s personal lives. what else is there to talk about when cleaning? some partners have been insensitive, but we talk it out and it’s done and fixed. sometimes we snark at one another using personal jabs, but that’s something we all participate in. and we know where the line is and not to cross it. but i’m sure many workplaces are like that

on ETC :

you will get messy. i end a time on bar with my fingers sticking together, my arms covered in fake-tan from chai or frappuccino roast pumps, and one partner told me once she went home to find mocha in her belly button of all places

you clean the bathrooms too. in all their shitty mess. and people treat public bathrooms terribly. but doing bathrooms is also a good release from the business of the bar

that drive thru headset? paid-for walkie talkies. yes, we gossip, we laugh, we trade jokes. we rag on customers out of earshot. let us have fun

WE DID NOT INVENT OR TAKE PART IN THE SECRET MENU. we cannot make your drink unless you tell us how it’s made. we’re not gonna google your weird invention when we have other things to do. you either come prepared, or you get something else

if you’re going to pay separately for a large order, TELL US FIRST

there will always be that one partner you hate working with. it happens in every job. there will always be that crew you love working with. you don’t always get to choose when that happens. c’est la vie

if it’s closing time, customers need to LEAVE. this is an issue of safety for when we work with money. even your best friend, your spouse, or your elderly mother cannot be inside the store during closing

at sun-dollars we have a weekly thing called the “clean play,” where people come in after the closers and do a deep-clean of the store. we rock out to music, enjoy there being no customers, and have fun. good setting for fellow workers!!

don’t give us pity on holidays. you’re the reason we’re there

i once had a woman come in half an hour before closing, and she was so mad we didn’t have the food box she wanted that she called corporate to complain. we now have more waste at the end of the night because we have to order so many boxes so we never run out

sometimes you’ll have to run out before or during a shift to pick up product from other stores

people take it personally when you finish a seasonal beverage. really personally when you’re out of anything, really

seeing regulars outside of the workplace will always be awkward. some even ask if you remember their drink. you might

people will complain about things out of your control. smile and nod and say you’ll let your manager know

when in doubt, give it to your shift supervisor

ADDITION :: my wonderful friend @morbidrpa wrote about her experience as a barista/manager in a smaller, single-location coffee shop. go check it out for varied experiences!!

#rph #rpt #character development #jack does rph things #re: occupation #;; barista life yo #activisthelps

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lolcat76 · 6 years

Note

Sharon and Gavin, after hours, trashing Pope (before the lawsuit escalated after "Silent Partner")

“I see why you don’t like him,” Gavin said as he topped offSharon’s glass.

Gavin’s famous margaritas,still just as strong and as sweet as the first time she’d been invited to hishome to celebrate a winning verdict. This time, fortunately, not with adetective crowing in the corner about honking if the plaintiff loved Jesus.Andy Flynn, Lord…if she had a dollarfor every time she had to choke down her opinions on him, she’d have paid backthat second mortgage Jack took out yearsago.

Andy Flynn was brash, stubborn and completely self-absorbed,just as much now as he’d been that night almost 15 years ago. She shouldn’tlike him, and if she weren’t on her third margarita, she’d be able to clearly statewhy. But…Andy Flynn wasn’t the topic of conversation at the moment. Was he? Sheshook her head to clear her thoughts. Andy kept popping up in these nights withGavin, and she bitched about him so frequently that she couldn’t remember whomshe and Gavin had been discussing before Andy stole her focus. Or why his namecame up, yet again.

Oh, right, people she disliked. No, Andy Flynn wasn’t on that list,even though his FID jacket clearly indicated he should be. Not that she’d tellGavin that. Gavin had his own opinions on Lieutenant Flynn, and she was toohappy with her drink and too cozy on his couch to indulge him on THATparticular topic.

She wanted to tell Gavin that the reason he disliked Andy somuch was that they were so alike. Both stubborn, hard-headed fools with more stylethan sense. Better not to open that particular can of well-dressed worms. Betterto distract him, before Gavin decided to ask why Sharon was bringing upLieutenant Flynn yet again.

Better to remember whom exactly she was supposed to dislike.

Right, she remembered as she sucked the last bits of strawberryand ice from her glass, the subject at hand was Chief Pope. Chief William HenryPope – of course she disliked him. She disliked his pretentious name, and shedisliked his leadership style, and most of all she disliked his habit of staringat her chest when he talked to her. Since the first time they met, he’d never botheredto make eye contact.

Which was bad enough, but par for the course in her job in thedays when the Civil Rights Act demanded that the LAPD bring in new blood. Menalways stared at her chest, but eventually, they looked up long enough to seethat she was neither interested in their attention nor willing to allow thatlevel of bullshit in the workplace. Will Pope, trained in DC where the ruleswere a little more lax and the men were a little less deserving of the ranks they’dbeen given, still stared at her breasts when they talked.

No wonder Deputy Chief Johnson kept him at arm’s length. Sharonwas shocked to this day that Brenda tolerated him at all.

She could have pushed that all aside in the interest of doingher job, but what truly cemented her dislike was that the first meeting in questionhappened off hours, and he stared at her rack while his wife was standing nextto him. What a…dick, she thought toherself, then giggled at the phrase. Whata dick. A lady didn’t say such things, but Will Pope deserved to hear them.“You remember that baseball movie?”

Gavin snorted. Of course hedidn’t remember baseball movies.

“No, you do,” she said,waving so hard she almost knocked herself in the head. Damn, his drinks werestronger than she thought. “Madonna was in it. You made me go see it with you.”

“Ah,” he said. “Yes, Iremember that baseball movie. Lesbians playing baseball, with a good soundtrack.”

“So you’ll remember this.”She giggled, then took another sip of her drink. “Pope looks like a penis witha little cap on.”

The two of them dissolvedinto laughter. Sharon wasn’t sure which was funnier, the mental image her wordsconjured up, or the fact that she’d just said the word ‘penis.” Captain SharonRaydor didn’t say such words. According to the LAPD and the St. Joseph’s PTA, CaptainSharon Raydor was a vestal virgin who, despite two children, had no intimate knowledgeof the male anatomy.

Oh, she’d be fired if she admitted the truth, but for the factthat she wrote the rules on LAPD officers and had first-hand knowledge offireable offenses. Not for her own benefit – she had some standards of professionalismand dignity – but being the author of the rulebook did have its benefits.

Even if her closest friend didn’t believe them. “Honey, I’veseen more penises than you have,” Gavin teased. “If any of them had looked likePope, I’d be straight.”

She laughed again, brushingaside his comment. How sad was it that even Gavin believed she’d never seen anaked man? She loved Gavin, but she wasn’t about to indulge him with thestories of the dicks she’d known.

Definitely wasn’t going totell him that she’d seen a dick the night of that first party, after themargaritas had dried up and one newly sober Andy Flynn offered to drive herhome. Even Gavin’s strongest margaritas weren’t going to pry that secretout of her.

No, time to change the topicof conversation. “Thank you for taking on Brenda. I know she’s a lot.”

“She’s fine. Reminds me ofyou, actually.”

“Of me?” Sharon huffed. Itwas a damn shame that Gavin didn’t have the same restraint as herself when itcame to comparing people. She’d rather be told she resembled Margaret Hamiltonin The Wizard of Oz than be compared to Deputy Chief Johnson.

Gavin hmmmed and nodded. “Both determined to take charge, bothabsolutely convinced that you’re right, neither willing to back down. The onlydifference is, you I could get off inany courtroom in the city. Her...well, darling, it’s a good thing she has arich husband.”

She had no idea that Special Agent Howard was a man with means.Didn’t even know what to do with that information, now that she had it.

Didn’t really care, because her glass was empty, and she wastired of thinking about Pope and Brenda Johnson. She wanted a late-nightdelivery of Chinese food and her own bed before she passed out for the night.She kissed Gavin on the cheek and excused herself, promising to call a cab andlet him know when she got home.

She sent him a text an hour later to tell him that she was inbed with a carton of lo mein. He didn’t ask for details, which was a blessing,because Gavin would have had a stroke if he knew that her cabbie/delivery manwas in her bed and arguing with her over the last bits of broccoli in thecarton.

“You ever see that baseball movie with Madonna?” she asked overa mouthful of noodles.

“Lump three feet over your ass and a penis with a little cap on?Sure.” Andy smiled before shoving the last bite of food in his mouth. “That umpalways reminded me of Pope.”

“I see why I like you,” she giggled, before Andy threw the emptycarton on her bedside table and reminded her, once again, why she put up withhim.

#major crimes fic #shandy fic #lolcat fic #shandy #sharon raydor #andy flynn #blossom--of--snow

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oncethrown · 6 years

Text

I’m so fucking angry.

I work at a very small place with a deeply sexist work culture. Men’s work is worth more and they can screw up way worse. Women’s efforts, especially when we go above and beyond, are just expected.

I work so hard, and I seem to be doing it for a pat on the head.

I work with a guy who doesn’t do his job, drinks while he’s there, and has driven out several more useful staff members several times over the last few years. He’s like a cancer on the organization.

I finally got a reliable report that he was drinking at work and took it to the hiring department, who told me that everyone already knows that he is drinking at work, and he knows that they all know.

So I was told that there was basically no way forward on the drinking (which makes my job harder, and sucks up time I don’t have because I’m already doing the work of multiple people)

....but I should report back immediately if he ever sexually threatens me. The person who told me this knows this guy pretty well, much better than I do, and now I’m rethinking all of my interactions in this job, especially because it’s in a field that’s had a ton of problems with sexual misconduct.

I also just feel like bait. Like even though he has a long list of fireable offenses, I should hang out and wait until he really really crosses the line so that people who have been trying to get him fired finally have something big to point too.

And no one cares. Like... they don’t care about my work and I got used to that quick. They don’t care about the clear quantifiable monetary benefits I bring to this job. Fine.

But now my safety is less important than this guy’s boozing.

I’m so fucking angry.

I actually wrote into an advice column, so now I’m low key worried that someone will see it and know it’s me and I’ll get fired.

But I’m also really really key to the organization, and I also sort of want to know what would happen if I just pointed out all the pieces of this guys job that I have to do because he’s too drunk, and then went home and threatened not to come back until the bullshit stops.

What are men terrible all the time?

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fallenangel2245-blog · 6 years

Text

Things bartenders judge their customers for.

ATTENTION ALL MY FELLOW DRINKERS! Today I am going to let you in on some valuable inside information. Do you ever wonder why it seems like the bartender is just skipping you, or ignoring you? Well, I hate to break it to you, but they probably are! Below is a list of things that most bartenders deem annoying, rude, and just downright offensive. Along with each bullet will be helpful hints to make your and your bartenders night more enjoyable. Trust me, when the bartender is having a good time, everyone wins!

(Note: this list does not apply to all bartenders and there are certain situations that warrant certain actions, this list is very generalized and NOT APPLICABLE TO EVERY ONE OF US.)

(Second note: Yes, I am a veteran bartender of about 7 years, so I have seen all of these and more.)

1.) ORDERING YOUR COCKTAIL WITH NO OR LIGHT ICE. OK guys, a bartender hears light or no ice, they do not think to themselves “alright i suppose ill just put a ton of booze in there to fill up space.” No. Just no. 99% of the time, when you order things with light or no ice, you will either get more juice/soda/water/whatever other filler you ordered, or they won’t fill your glass up all the way. You are not clever, you are not pulling one over on anyone but yourself. **WHAT TO DO INSTEAD: Either order a double, get your liquor neat (no ice and no mixer), or just drink your drink. Personally this is one of my biggest pet peeves as a bartender and it’s just easier to order the drink like a normal human being.

2.) ASKING US TO MAKE YOUR DRINK “STRONGER” Oh, you want a double? You’re going to get charged for a double then. Most bartenders have to keep inventory on all the liquor that comes and goes, and making your drink stronger for the possibility that you will leave me an extra $1 is not worth me getting in trouble or losing my job. Guess what? That is called stealing and it is in fact, a fireable offense. This is another instance similar to the “no ice” situation, just don’t do it, for our sanity if nothing else. **WHAT TO DO INSTEAD: If you are ordering a jack and coke and don’t want to pay for a double, try ordering jack on the rocks with a splash of coke. This way the bartender and the customer both win! This should satisfy your strong drink needs and the bartender won’t have to explain to you for probably the 1,000th time why they can’t just make your drink “stronger.”

3.) BANGING YOUR EMPTY GLASS ON THE BAR This will never EVER IN ANY WAY be acceptable. This is one of the quickest ways to get ignored or scolded by the bartender. This is rude and disrespectful in ANY instance. The bartender sees that your drink is empty, they are working on getting to you as fast as they can. Please be respectful, and imagine if someone was trying to get your attention using that method. It would probably be very annoying, especially if you’re trying to multi-task. Many times bartenders are taking an order while making a drink and they already have a list of other things they need to do all the while remembering how to make the hundreds of drink combos that there are to choose from. **WHAT TO DO INSTEAD: Wait your turn. Going up to the bar on a busy night can be frustrating, trust us, we know. Please know that for the most part bartenders have “rounds.” They usually start at one end of the bar and make their way down, hit up the server tickets in between, getting servers change, and cleaning up from guests that have just left. When you get to the bar, don’t move. trying to follow the bartender around is a sure fire way to get lost in the shuffle. The bartender will get to you, we promise.

4.) NOT KNOWING WHAT YOU WANT TO ORDER When we have a bar 3 deep on a Friday night, we do not have time to stand there and wait for you to decide whether or not you want to be adventurous, when we all know you are just going to get that vodka cranberry you always get. Also, please don’t wave us down like you have some sort of emergency and when we hurry over to take your order turn around and ask your buds what they want. You really should have that information before you go waving us down like you’re gonna keel over if I don’t take your order now. How do you know if you are one of those people? Has a bartender ever said “I’ll give you a minute to think.” or just flt out walked away from you? If you answered yes to either of those, you are one of those people. **WHAT TO DO INSTEAD: Wait to approach the bar until you know what you want. If you need a drink menu, that’s just fine, we will get you one no problem, but don’t expect us to just chill there waiting on you to decide, we will probably go knock out a server ticket or take another order while you look it over. We will be back.

5.) CHIT-CHAT On a slow night or an early afternoon, bartenders love talking to their guests (most of the time.) but when we don’t even have time to breathe, we sure don’t have time to see the same picture of your cat for the 6th time that week or listen to your vacation story. We can handle a “hi how are you” and a quick one liner and that’s about it. We don’t do it to be rude, we do care about our guests, that’s how we pay our bills. We just have to keep moving. **WHAT TO DO INSTEAD: Read the room. If the bar is crazy busy, just order your drink and food, say hello, throw a joke or a comment in now and then, and just know that the bartender isn’t upset with you or hate your cat, we just really don’t have the extra time to chit-chat. We will make it up to you next time we can and ask you how your cat has been.

6.) ASKING US TO MAKE THAT DRINK FROM PINTREST No, we can’t make you that one drink that has 5 different layers all blended into a pint glass, and we don’t have any extra cotton candy lying around to rim your glass. Any drink that looks like it will take more than 45 seconds to make, we can not do it. Unless you’re at a cocktail bar that specializes in fancy drinks, you’re simply out of luck. **WHAT TO DO INSTEAD: Try ordering one of the many drinks offered at the bar. Want something different? Ask for the drink menu, or give the bartender a list of the ingredients and they can tell you if they can make it or not.

7.) EXPECTING EXCELLENT SERVICE WITHOUT PAYING FOR IT

Whether you agree or not, bartenders and servers only get paid a couple bucks an hour, and we have to pay our bills. Don’t expect the bartender to go out of their way to serve you if you aren’t going to compensate them for their time and effort. There is a saying, we like to call it T.I.P.S. (To Insure Prompt Service.) Pretty self explanatory. We aren’t saying it’s right, but neither is a $5 tip on a $100 tab.. **WHAT TO DO INSTEAD: 20% is the goal for bartenders to make per tab. The 20% would be for great service and timing. Now if a bartender is being terrible or just not doing their job, it’s understandable why you wouldn’t tip. But if you consistently get bad service at all the places you frequent, then I’ll help you out, you’re the problem. Bartending is really hard. It’s rewarding and worth it most of the time, that’s why we do it. That being said, we try to treat people equally and make sure everyone is having a good time and keeping their drinks full. Help us help you by tipping.

Well, there you have it, a list of the most common things bartenders judge customers for and how to fix it. This is just an article for me to vent and to maybe help some people out, so please don’t get offended. Life is too short to go around being offended about everything.

XOXO,

#bartender #bartenderproblems #service industry #nightlife #tipping #judging #jb

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growlegalweed-blog · 5 years

Text

Legal Weed Resources

Check out... https://legalweed.gq/420/thursday-8-february-2019-state-by-state-digest-federal-arkansas-florida-massachusetts-michigan-nebraska-nevada-new-hampshire-new-york-ohio-pennsylvania/

Thursday 8 February 2019 – State By State Digest: Federal, Arkansas, Florida, Massachusetts, Michigan, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania

FEDERAL

Judge: “Accidental” Cannabis Use Still a Fireable Offense for Federal Agencies

A federal judge has set a binding precedent by ruling that intent does not matter when it comes to cannabis consumption — accidentally consuming cannabis is still a fireable offense.

https://www.ganjapreneur.com/judge-accidental-cannabis-use-still-a-fireable-offense-for-federal-agencies/

House Financial Services Committee Will Hear Cannabis Banking Bill Next Week

Banking bill may be first cannabis reform legislation to benefit from a new U.S. House power dynamic.

With a new Democratic majority in the U.S. House, the movement of cannabis bills in committee is expected to be smoother. The first sign of a more receptive Congress in 2019 will come when the House Financial Services Committee takes up a draft of the SAFE Banking Act, expected Feb. 13. The news was first reported by Politco reporter Zachary Warmbrodt.

The bill, sponsored by Reps. Ed Perlmutter (D-CO) and Denny Heck (D-WA), would allow banks and credit unions to work freely with state-legal cannabis businesses (even as the plant remains illegal on the federal level). On the surface, the goal is twofold: Facilitate business development in the industry and allow regulators to clear a significant hurdle en route to broader cannabis reform legislation.

https://www.cannabisbusinesstimes.com/article/house-financial-services-committee-banking-bill-cannabis/

ARKANSAS

AR licenses 32 dispensaries; medical cannabis sales possible around April

The 32 businesses that an Arkansas panel approved to sell medical marijuana in the state have been formally awarded their licenses, with sales expected to start as soon as April.

Here’s the latest on the situation:The businesses received their licenses after paying a $15,000 licensing fee and posting a $100,000 performance bond. Four dispensaries are being allowed to operate in each of eight regions across the state.

AR licenses 32 dispensaries; medical cannabis sales possible around April

FLORIDA

Florida Agriculture Commissioner Nikki Fried has filled the Director of Cannabis job

https://www.orlandoweekly.com/Blogs/archives/2019/02/06/florida-agriculture-commissioner-nikki-fried-has-filled-the-director-of-cannabis-job

Holly Bell, a consultant for the cannabis and hemp industry in Nashville since August, is expected to be named as Florida’s first Director of Cannabis with the state Agriculture Commissioner’s office.

An official announcement is expected for later today, according to a report from the website Florida Politics. The website notes that it relied on unnamed sources and Bell’s professional website that said she is “currently on permanent assignment as the Director of Cannabis for the state of Florida.” Her professional bio has since been edited.

Earlier today, Fried’s office issued a media advisory of a “major announcement related to cannabis in Florida” at 1:30 p.m. Wednesday at the Capitol in Tallahassee. We’ve reached out to Bell for comment.

Per Bell’s resume (available here), as part of her consulting work, most recently she specialized in the “Cannabis/HEMP, Entertainment and Finance Industries.” Prior to that, she was a director of business development at Safe Harbor Services in Denver, Colorado, a service-based program that connects cannabis-related businesses with financial institutions, and was a practice management consultant at ProEquities Broker Dealer in Birmingham, Alabama.

MAINE

Bill introduced to make CBD food products legal in Maine

Cannabidiol, or CBD, is a hemp-derived product that is not a federally approved food additive.

The state has ordered all stores that sell edible CBD products to remove them from their shelves.

“I’m interested in solutions so I just want to move forward. It doesn’t matter how we got here, it matters where we go.”

Representative Craig Hickman, introduced a bill to clarify that the production and sale of CBD food products be allowed under Maine law.

https://www.wabi.tv/content/news/Bill-introduced-to-make-CBD-food-products-legal-in-Maine–505377901.html

MASSACHUSETTS

Boston Considering Proposal to Prefer Local Residents for Cannabis Licenses

Rule changes proposed by a Boston City Councilor include provisions to ease access by minorities and those previously charged with cannabis crimes.

Boston Considering Proposal to Prefer Local Residents for Cannabis Licenses

MICHIGAN

Michigan Caregiver-Sourced Medical Cannabis Products Recalled

The recalls follow a state decision to allow dispensaries to purchase untested cannabis from caregivers.

More than 50 pounds of medical cannabis products have been recalled in Michigan this year, and state regulators reported that the majority of those batches were sourced from caregivers. The Detroit Newsfirst reported on this trend.

https://www.cannabisbusinesstimes.com/article/michigan-caregiver-medical-marijuana-products-recalled/

NEBRASKA

Nebraska Medical Cannabis Backers File Formal Papers For Campaign

Backers of an effort to legalize medical cannabis in Nebraska have filed formal paperwork for a statewide ballot campaign.

Nebraskans for Sensible Marijuana Laws submitted their proposed constitutional amendment Tuesday to the Nebraska Secretary of State’s office.

State Sens. Anna Wishart and Adam Morfeld, of Lincoln, are co-chairing the effort to place the issue on the 2020 ballot.

Wishart has introduced a bill that would allow lawmakers to legalize the drug for medicinal purposes, but it faces stiff opposition from state and local law enforcement, Gov. Pete Ricketts and prominent Nebraskans including former Husker football coach Tom Osborne.

Nebraska Medical Cannabis Backers File Formal Papers For Campaign

NEVADA

Arbiters award 4Front Advisors $8.7M in dispute with Nevada cannabis firms

4Front Advisors, part of the Arizona-based multistate marijuana firm 4Front Holdings, won an $8.7 million arbitration award against Nevada-based CWNevada and NuVeda for breach of contract in failing to pay fees for services provided.

Kris Krane, 4Front Holdings’ co-founder and president, toldMarijuana Business Dailythe award validates 4Front Advisors’ work in helping the two companies secure cannabis licenses.

Krane noted that in the early days of the cannabis industry – when capital was extremely hard to raise – consultants often helped clients win licenses and get operational for a small fee and then a percentage of the licensees’ future revenues for a period of time.

NEW HAMPSHIRE

New Hampshire marijuana bill gets public hearing

New Hampshire lawmakers considering whether to legalize recreational marijuana heard Tuesday from supporters arguing such a move is long overdue and opponents urging them to resist pressure from surrounding states.

Ten states have legalized recreational marijuana — including the three bordering New Hampshire — while New York, New Jersey and others are considering it this year. Past efforts have failed in New Hampshire, but Democrats, who added legalization to their party platform last year, now control both the House and Senate. And the bill’s sponsor, Rep. Renny Cushing, pointed to movement in other states as a reason his bill should pass.

New Hampshire marijuana bill gets public hearing

NEW YORK

New York City Cracks Down on CBD Edibles, Saying the Cannabis Derivative Is Unsafe

NY Times Reports….For months, the top-selling item at Fat Cat Kitchen was a cookie packed with chocolate chunks, dusted with salt flakes and infused with the stylish cannabis derivative cannabidiol, or CBD.

But as of last week, customers won’t find the cookie on the Manhattan restaurant and bakery’s menu.

On Friday, a health inspector sealed up the restaurant’s supply of CBD-infused baked goods in a plastic bag and told Fat Cat Kitchen to stop selling them as part of a citywide embargo on food products containing CBD.

The Department of Health and Mental Hygiene confirmed on Tuesday that it was ordering restaurants under its jurisdiction not to sell food products containing CBD.

In a statement, the health department said that New York City eateries were not “permitted to add anything to food or drink that is not approved as safe to eat.” That included CBD, which had not been “deemed safe as a food additive,” the department said. The crackdown was first reported byEater.

OHIO

Ohio Medical Marijuana Dispensaries with Certificates of Operation

PENNSYLVANIA

Pennsylvania Legalization Proposal Focuses On Social Justice

The bill proposes using 50 percent of the revenue generated to reduce student loan debt in the state.

Pennsylvania Legalization Proposal Focuses On Social Justice

#2019 #Arkansas #Digest #February #federal #Florida #Hampshire #Massachusetts #Michigan #Nebraska #Nevada #Ohio #Pennsylvania #State #Thursday #YORK

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