Ollie. Asexual/Panromantic/Genderqueer. They/Them/Their or Xe/Xem/Xyr. Writer, crafter, baseball fan, TTRPG enthusiast. Whatever you actually followed me for, I should probably apologize. Unless you followed me because of one of my fanfics, in which case I should DEFINITELY apologize.
patience my brother (and patience my friend): a TMA fanfic
Read from the beginning on Tumblr || Also on AO3 and my website
Chapter 8: Finding Forever
“Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit!” Melanie’s voice whispered excitedly in Jon’s ear.
Jon rolled over and grinned up at the blur in the vague shape of a person above him. “Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” he parroted back at her. Neither of them had any idea where the phrase came from, but ever since Miss Goldman had told them about it they’d competed to be the first one to say it.
He reached for his glasses and slid them on, and the blur resolved into Melanie. “Do you smell breakfast?”
Melanie’s nose twitched, and she frowned. “Yes. Why is someone making breakfast already? Daddy doesn’t usually start working before nine.”
Jon glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand between their beds as he sat up. “And he usually has cereal, even when he has to go to court. Let’s go find out.”
They had tidied up their room the night before, so at least their slippers were right where they were meant to be. Stepping into them, they ventured into the main part of the house. Their parents’ bedroom door was shut, as was the door to the room that had been designated as an office, and nobody was in the living room. When they made their way around to the kitchen, though, they found Mummy humming and setting the table while Daddy presided over the stove.
“Is it somebody’s birthday?” Melanie asked suspiciously.
“In a sense, maybe.” Mummy set the silverware down and came over to give them both a kiss on the head. “We’re taking a special trip today. As a family. Let’s have breakfast and then you two need a bath before we go.”
Jon’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s that kind of special trip?”
“You’ll see,” Mummy promised. “It’s not bad. I promise.”
Mummy hadn’t ever lied to him—not once in his entire life—so Jon was willing to trust her. He glanced at the bowls tucked against the wall and reached for the cupboard where they kept the cat food.
Once they finished eating, Jon and Melanie dutifully took themselves to their bathroom. They were maybe a little old to be bathing together, at least by most standards, but they had it down to a science at this point and it was certainly faster than it would have been if they had gone separately. Once they were scrubbed down, it was back to the bedroom to get dressed.
“Mummy didn’t say what we’re supposed to wear,” Melanie said distractedly, rummaging through her dresser. “Any ideas?”
Jon tugged the closet door open. “If we had to take baths first, even though we usually take them at bedtime, we’re probably supposed to look nice.”
“Good idea.” Melanie crossed over to join him. “Wear the blue one.”
“Only if you wear the dress that matches.”
“Deal.”
There was a momentary snag while Melanie struggled with the buckle on her patent leather Mary Janes, but they were eventually ready. When they went out into the living room, they found Daddy waiting in his blue courtroom suit while Mummy, who was wearing the red dress with the high collar she’d worn for their Christmas photographs, pet Paddiwack and promised him they would be back by suppertime. Daddy smiled and held out his arms. “You both look wonderful. Let’s go.”
They didn’t take the Harlequin, which meant it wasn’t very far away; with them dressed nice like they were, especially with Mummy in her high heels, they wouldn’t have walked if it wasn’t close. Jon was a little nervous when they approached the train station, but he told himself that if they were going to see Grandmother Sims again then they would have brought their suitcases and Mummy and Daddy wouldn’t be smiling like they were. It just meant they were going somewhere not in Woodley but far enough away Daddy didn’t want to bring the Harlequin. It was on its last legs, Mummy often said, and didn’t like to go very far anymore; Daddy disagreed, but said it was worth not taking it on long trips to keep Mummy happy, so he would judge trips on whether he thought Mummy would let them drive or insist on them taking the train. It was a cool day, not too warm, with a nice breeze blowing, and Jon was cautiously willing to allow himself to enjoy the trip. Even more when he saw that they were heading north rather than south.
“Are we going to Manchester?” he asked, looking at the departure board.
He and Melanie sat next to each other and peered eagerly out the window. Daddy came this way, not every day, but whenever he had to go to court, and he pointed out all of the sights to them. Mummy gave the tickets to Melanie to present to the inspector and promised Jon he could hand them over on the way back. They made it in record time and stepped off the train together. Daddy took Jon’s hand; Mummy took Melanie’s, and they headed to the door of the station.
“You have a lovely family,” the man at the door said as he held it open for them.
“Thank you,” Daddy said with a big smile. Jon knew Daddy liked it when people complimented them. He always had.
It was only a short walk from there, and a straight one at that. Daddy let them stop on the bridge to peer down at the river—keeping tight hold of their hands, not that either of them would have leaned far enough forward to fall in, at least not on purpose—before gently urging them on. They only had another block and a half to go and then they were in front of a tall brick building with COURT written over the door.
Melanie’s hand tightened around Jon’s, but she didn’t say anything. He swallowed down his own unease. Again, he firmly reminded himself that Mummy and Daddy had never lied to him. They had promised he could stay with them. They had promised. And they wouldn’t have looked so happy if there was a chance he was going to have to go away for good, or said he was going to enjoy what was going to happen. If they were going to send him away for good, they’d have done it when he got in a fight on the very first day of school, not a whole ten months later. Still, he held Melanie’s hand extra tightly as well.
Daddy spoke to a woman at the desk out front, who consulted a big ledger and gave him a room number, and they made their way to the elevator. Melanie ceded button pushing privileges to Jon, who depressed the shiny round 2; they rose smoothly and stepped out when the doors opened. It was far more crowded up here than it had been downstairs—not loud, just crowded. Jon, even as he made sure Melanie’s hand was secure in his and automatically reached for Mummy’s again, looked around and noted that most of the people up here were families. Some, like him and Melanie, held their parents’ hands tightly; others were sitting with people who were clearly their personal advocates. Some of the smaller ones held stuffed animals, looking worried; some of the older ones pretended to be bored but were clearly concerned. One who looked like a teenager was holding a toddler who was sucking her thumb, both dressed mostly in black.
Jon clung to Melanie a little tighter, seeing in the teenager’s face something he remembered from the last time he’d been in a courtroom.
There were three courtrooms up here, or at least three sets of heavy wooden doors. Daddy pointed to one of them just as the doors opened, exposing a man with a broad chest who called, “Afternoon docket, Courtroom 2C, may now enter.”
“That’s us.” Daddy led them forward. Jon made eye contact with the teenager and gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile and nod; she returned the nod, but not the smile, and he decided to accept that.
There were quite a lot of people in the room, which was a bit of a surprise; when they had been in court the last time, it had only been them in the courtroom. Jon wondered if they were going to get to watch one of Daddy’s cases and looked around for who might be his client and which of the tables up front Daddy would sit at. To his surprise, Daddy found them seats on the benches—what he’d told them was called the gallery—and then sat with them.
The judge came in, a different judge than the last case—not a surprise, since that had been in London, which had been very annoying—and everybody stood, then sat when the judge did. Once the room was completely quiet, the clerk called a name and a case number.
It surprised Jon that, apparently, everybody in the gallery was there for something, not just one or two people. It also surprised him that nobody seemed to have a barrister or solicitor with them, and everyone was dealt with relatively quickly. One or two were told they would have to come back later, but most of them went up, said a few words, and walked away with a piece of paper. A lot of them were changing names, or finalizing divorces, or so it seemed to Jon. It made him nervous about why Mummy and Daddy were here.
You’ll enjoy this, he reminded himself. Daddy had promised he would enjoy himself. He tried to tell himself that as his stomach tied itself into knots.
“Case number two six seven five three nine A, in regards to the minor child Jonathan Andrew Sims,” the clerk called.
Jon’s stomach wrenched harder.
Melanie leaned over and whispered fiercely, “Not without me.”
Jon’s tongue was too heavy in his mouth to speak, but he nodded as he got to his feet. Mummy and Daddy stood, too, and Melanie with him. Together they moved to the front of the court. Daddy didn’t have them sit behind one of the tables; instead, they stood in front of the judge. Jon locked his legs to keep his knees from shaking.
The judge, however, favored him with a warm smile, then looked down at the paperwork in front of him. “I have here a petition for the formal adoption of Jonathan Andrew Sims, age six. This says you have had full legal and physical custody of him for over a year, is that correct?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Daddy said, using his court voice, the one that was careful with the vowels.
“And I can see from the way he’s holding your hands that he loves and trusts you,” the judge added with a kind laugh. “Well, there’s no reason to deny it and no objection filed. This court hereby approves this formal adoption and names you both as Jonathan’s parents.” He looked over his glasses and added, “Normally at this point I would present you with an updated birth certificate, but I note another petition on file, so I’ll hold off on that for a moment. Clerk?”
Jon looked excitedly at Melanie, who was staring at him with sparkling eyes and a grin forming on her own face. Of course they had always been siblings—twins—ever since the day they were born, but now the judge had said it for certain, for other people to know that Mummy and Daddy weren’t just his guardians, they were his parents.
Before he could say anything, the clerk said, “Case number two six seven five three nine B through E, petitions for legal change of name.”
“For the record, I think this is a wonderful thing,” the judge continued. “It’s a wonderful way to make him feel comfortable and included while still honoring his birth family. And—Mrs King, I understand that you wish to change your first name as well?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Mummy said, surprising Jon. “I’ve been going by Gillian for most of my life and I would like to make it official.”
“Of course. Again, there have been no objections and no reason to deny. Therefore, this court approves the change of name from Antony King to Antony Paul Sims-King, the change of name of Jie-Lian King to Gillian Ng Sims-King, the change of name of Jonathan Andrew Sims to Jonathan Andrew Sims-King, and the change of name of Melanie Estelle King to Melanie Estelle Sims-King.” He signed several pieces of paper, then held out a stack to the clerk, who in turn handed them to Daddy. “Congratulations to you all.”
“Thank you, Your Honor!” Melanie and Jon said in unison, making the adults laugh.
When they left the courtroom, Mummy immediately knelt down to get on Jon and Melanie’s level. “You don’t mind, do you? We wanted to surprise you. We didn’t want to take Mama and Papa away from you, but—”
Jon cut her off by throwing his arms around her neck and hugging her tightly. He was the happiest he had been since Mama died, and he felt, just like he had the last time he’d been in court, incredibly loved and wanted.
“I don’t mind at all,” he said.
Melanie threw her arms around them both. Daddy got down and hugged all three of them, then stood and ruffled Jon’s hair. “Come on. We made reservations at a special restaurant for an early dinner. It’s a celebration.”
Jon smiled broadly and took Melanie’s hand again, not desperate, but just happy to be able to hold his sister’s hand.
They had always been a family. It was just that now everybody would know it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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If you see this post you’re legally required to tell me at least one trans woman headcanons you have for a canonically male character, I never get to see transfem headcanons like that, give me them, and for equality of my own please know estrogen could have saved Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki I will not elaborate, also Yuya.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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patience my brother (and patience my friend): a TMA fanfic
[Prologue] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] || Also on AO3 and my personal website
Chapter 7: What Destiny May Come
Melanie stared fixedly at the toes of her new shoes. They were her favorite color, a bright, nearly neon pink with stitching only a little bit darker, laced with sparkling silver laces. She’d been quite proud of the fact that, with only a little help, she’d been able to tie them herself that morning. She’d been even prouder when she had walked into the classroom for the very first time and noted that most of the other students were either wearing shoes with hook and loop tape or those elastic coiled laces you didn’t need to tie. She didn’t need that. She could tie her own shoes.
The laces of one now hung loose, sagging and limp and orange with playground dirt. Really, both shoes were dirtier than she would have wanted, although at least she hadn’t torn them. The same could not be said of her dungarees, or her shirt, which is why she was concentrating so hard on her shoes.
To her left, Jon sat rigid and upright, his arms tightly folded over his chest. There was a smear or a scratch, she wasn’t quite sure which, on the lens of his glasses, but he hadn’t even attempted to wipe it away. Then again, there wasn’t really anything for him to wipe it with. His clothes were probably even more messed up than Melanie’s were, but what was really worrying her was the thin trickle of dried blood extending from under his nose. Less that he’d had the nosebleed and more that nobody had offered him a tissue for it. It was, she thought judgmentally, a terrible way to treat someone, especially a child. She wanted to ask if he was okay, but they’d already been told that they were to sit in silence and think about what you’ve done, so she didn’t.
Instead, she probed tentatively at a tooth with her tongue. It hurt like crazy, and it was definitely wiggly. Not quite loose enough to fall out on its own, but with a little judicious work it would probably come out. She didn’t want to do that here, though. She could handle the pain, but the blood was another matter, and she didn’t want to make a bigger mess than she already had. She maybe felt a little guilty about the dirt on the floor under her feet, but only a little.
The day had been going so well, too. Miss Goldman was a lovely woman, warm and welcoming and very understanding, and she’d done a masterful job of introducing a room full of children who had mostly never been in a formal setting like this to the basics. The morning exercises had been enjoyable without being condescending, and they had started off with maths. Melanie liked numbers, better than she liked words anyway; she couldn’t always read them well, but she’d picked up addition and subtraction and even her times tables quickly enough and could do them in her head reasonably well. She’d been surprised to learn that was a talent not shared by most of her new classmates. She’d been relieved, after lunch, to learn that there were only two other children, other than Jon, who had even begun learning how to read, and neither of them read as fast or as well as him. She never felt stupid compared to Jon, but she’d been worried about feeling stupid next to people she didn’t know. Her experiences in the playgroup had not been great on that front.
And then they’d been set out to play in the schoolyard. Even that hadn’t been so bad, not at first. Actually it had been a lot of fun. There were balls to kick and ropes to skip with, swings and slides and climbing bars, and even though there were several classes out in the yard, there ought to have been room for all of them. Melanie had been so excited she hadn’t known where to start. Jon, too, had been just as enthusiastic, and they had eventually decided to take a turn on the swings.
Which, in a long, roundabout way, had brought them here.
From behind the headmaster’s door, she could hear the faint rise and fall of a scolding voice. It would be nice to think that Scott’s mother was scolding him, but she didn’t think that was likely, somehow. She hadn’t seemed particularly reasonable when she’d swept in, nor had the look she’d given Jon and Melanie been particularly forgiving or kind. All right, it had technically been two on one, and they had thrown the first punch, but really, he’d started it. It was all his fault.
The door to the outer office opened once again, and Melanie, recognizing the footsteps, kept her gaze firmly pointed downwards. She wasn’t ready to see the look of disappointment—or worse, anger. And it wouldn’t be directed at Scott, either.
“Oh, my God.” Mummy sounded both tired and horrified. She quickly crossed the floor and knelt down in front of them; Melanie was forced to look into her face as she gently cupped her hand under her chin and tilted it up to see. Melanie pressed her lips tightly together to keep from saying anything. “Look at you both. This is a mess. And on your first day, too.” She fished a handkerchief out of her purse and handed it to Jon, then looked over her shoulder at the secretary. “Do I need to sign them out or just take them home?”
“You’ll need to speak to Mrs Cromwell about that,” the receptionist said in her sharp, shrill tones.
Jon finished wiping his glasses—it was a smudge, that was good—then tugged Mummy’s sleeve. “Mummy?”
“Yes, Jon?” Mummy sighed, turning back to face him. The receptionist scowled over her shoulder at them, and Melanie flinched.
Jon beckoned her close, cupped his hands around her ear, and whispered for a moment. Mummy pulled back and stared at him. Melanie couldn’t read her expression. “Where did you hear that?”
“Scott,” Jon said softly. “He said that we couldn’t really be siblings if—”
Mummy held up a finger and rose gracefully to her feet. “Wait here for just a moment,” she said calmly. Turning, she walked, still steady and unhurried, to the door to the head teacher’s office, opened it, stepped through, and closed it carefully.
If it wasn’t a thick enough door to prevent them from hearing the tone of Scott’s mother’s voice, it definitely wasn’t so thick that they couldn’t make out their mother’s shout. “HE CALLED THEM WHAT?!”
Melanie glanced sideways at Jon. He was biting his lip as he dabbed gingerly under his nose. After a moment, he pulled the handkerchief away, refolded it so that the clean parts were exposed, and offered it to Melanie, who tentatively pressed it to her lip. It didn’t feel like it was still bleeding, but it hurt a little, and it was better to make sure.
A moment or two later, Mummy came stalking out of the office, her eyes flashing. “Jon, Melanie, let’s go,” she commanded, holding out her hand. Melanie swallowed the urge to start apologizing—or crying—and took Jon’s hand; he obediently took Mummy’s hand in his other, and they left the school.
A few of the kids were watching them. Jon stared straight ahead and didn’t make eye contact with anyone; Melanie squeezed his hand gently—she wasn’t sure if it hurt, she’d seen how rough his knuckles were—and glanced over at one of them. It was one of the older girls, one of the ones who’d been playing with the skipping ropes, and she caught Melanie’s eye and gave her a thumbs up. It made her feel a little better, at any rate. Still, neither she nor Jon spoke the entire way home.
Mummy sighed as they pulled into the driveway and she shut off the car. “Go inside and get cleaned up,” she said. Her voice was still calm, not like she’d shouted when she went into the head teacher’s office. That didn’t necessarily make Melanie feel better. Their mother wasn’t normally a shouter, but they’d never done anything quite this bad before.
Jon took Melanie’s hand again as they got out of the car, and they went silently to their room, their mother trailing them as she went. She stopped on the way, though, big surprise. Probably she was going to tell their father what had happened. Melanie waited until they were in their room with the door shut before she spoke. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” Jon was lying. Melanie didn’t need to ask him to know he was lying. He probed gently at his nose, then sighed. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble too.”
Melanie harrumphed and trudged over to the dresser to rummage through it for something clean. “You didn’t get us in trouble. Scott was a big jerk.” She paused, then added, “What did those words mean? When he said we couldn’t be—”
“I don’t know exactly,” Jon said carefully. He struggled out of his shirt and tossed it towards the laundry basket. “But I don’t think they were very nice. Or at least he didn’t mean them to be very nice.” He turned to look at Melanie. “Is your mouth okay?”
“It’ll be okay.” Melanie probed the tooth again. She could slide her tongue all the way underneath it and tip it pretty far, but not enough to properly dislodge it. “Does the Tooth Fairy pay the same rate for teeth that don’t fall out on their own, or is it less because they’re not ready?”
“Teeth are teeth, Melanie. Once they come in, they don’t get bigger or harder.”
Melanie abandoned her tooth and struggled out of her dungarees, then brushed herself down before reaching for the pair of corduroys that matched the ones Jon was pulling on. “It wasn’t a bad day, though, was it? Except Scott?”
“No,” Jon agreed. “Miss Goldman is nice. And I liked that trick she taught us about the times tables. I didn’t think we were going to get to learn anything on the very first day.”
“So we’re going to go back tomorrow?”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Of course!” Melanie said emphatically. “I just, I thought maybe you would want to go somewhere else. Or, or wait or something.”
Jon shook his head. “It’s not that bad. Anyway, you want to go back, and I’m not leaving you. Where you go, I go.”
“That’s the deal,” Melanie agreed. She’d promised Jon that almost a year ago, when they had been afraid he was going to be sent away, and she was glad he remembered that that went both ways.
She hugged him tight, then took his hand as they ventured out of their room.
Mummy and Daddy were standing in the hallway talking, but they broke off when they came out. Daddy immediately got down on one knee in front of them and reached for Melanie. “Come here, Little Moth, let me take a look. Can you open your mouth for me?”
Melanie obediently opened her mouth as wide as she could and, guessing what he was looking at, pushed at the loose tooth again. Daddy hummed under his breath, that little sound he made when he was thinking. “We can try and take that out now if you like, or wait for it to fall out on its own. I think it’s just loose enough for the doorknob trick.”
“The doorknob trick?” Melanie repeated, as best as she could without moving her mouth.
Daddy laughed gently and let go of her chin. “You’ll see. Come into the office.”
Inside the office, Daddy sat Melanie on the edge of his desk, then rummaged about until he produced a ball of string. “Open your mouth again,” he instructed her.
She obeyed. Daddy unwound the ball of string. “Now. This is going to be a little weird, but trust me, okay?”
Once Melanie gave him a thumbs up, he tied one end of the string to her loose tooth. He was right, it did feel a little weird, and it hurt a bit, but Melanie bore up. Daddy wound out the string more and then tied it to the knob of the open door, then turned to Jon. “All right, Little Flame, I need your help. Can you—”
He got no further. Jon, who had evidently put together what was going to happen faster than Melanie had, climbed up onto the desk behind her and wrapped his arms around her to anchor her in place. Daddy blinked and looked at Mummy. “I was going to let him do the door part, but…you look mad enough to make this work. Go ahead, Gil.”
Mummy wrapped her hand around the doorknob, pulled it open just a little bit more, then paused. She turned and looked at Melanie and Jon seriously.
“I’m not mad at you,” she assured them. “Either of you. I promise.”
With that, she slammed the door with a loud bang.
Melanie’s head jerked forward, and only Jon’s arms kept her from falling onto her knees, or so she told herself. Something ripped free of her mouth and went flying. Daddy knelt down to the limp string and untied it, then held out his palm, showing Melanie her slightly bloody tooth. “Here you go. You can go put this under your pillow and then we’ll go get ice cream.”
“Ice cream?” Melanie repeated, sliding off the desk. “Even though we got in a fight at school?”
“On the first day?” Jon added. “Mrs Cromwell said we should be ashamed.”
“Mrs Cromwell should—” Mummy snapped her mouth shut, then knelt down in front of Jon and Melanie. “Did you tell her what Scott said to you?”
“Just that he said mean things to Melanie,” Jon admitted.
“And to you,” Melanie reminded him, just as she had in the head’s office. “It didn’t matter exactly what the words were, did it?”
“In this case, it did. Those are very bad words, and not ones that are allowed in the school. And apparently he’s been saying them more often than he should have, you’re just the only ones who did something about it.” Mummy gave them a very small smile. “I’m not saying fighting is always the right answer. I’m not saying you should do that all the time. But if you ever hear someone use those words again, even if they’re not talking about you, that’s a good reason to hit them. And then tell a grown-up, so they can do something about it. Like Mrs Cromwell did in telling Scott he can’t come back to school. So. Let’s go get ice cream to celebrate your first day of school, and maybe a little to help with that hole where your tooth used to be. And then…” She looked up at Daddy with raised eyebrows.
Daddy smiled. “And then, we were going to wait until Christmas, but this seems like a good a day as any to go to the animal rescue and see about getting a cat.”
“Really?” Jon and Melanie cried in unison.
“Really, really.” Daddy ruffled their hair. “Go on. Go put your tooth away before you lose it and we’ll be on our way.”
Melanie and Jon exchanged grins as they ran back to their room. It hadn’t been such a bad day after all. And it was only going to get better.
Where's that tweet about how American chants are "let's go [team name] and some other country (Irish?) fans are "I've made up a song about the other team's drinking problem to the tune of London Bridge Is Falling Down one two three"?
something something extremely sexy when magic users resort to physical violence. yeah i have the power of god and anime on my side but i also have THESE HANDS. i cast Punch You In The Face. i take my magic staff through which i channel the vast energies of the elements and the cosmos and i cast Severe Concussion And Skull Fracture. casting time for xenoglossy too long, chose the quicker route of Stab You In The Throat.
So I just simultaneously did, and possibly didn't lose my job today :)
Very much did in the sense that I literally do not know where my job is at the moment. But, for the time being I haven't been let go because nobody else including the store owner knows where it is either.
So, I don't wanna risk doxxing myself by posting pictures but goddamn am I tempted because this is not a believable event. This is a cartoon problem. For looneytoons.
But yeah, so, I work(ed?) at a kiosk selling boba tea, right? Freestanding kiosk in the mall with full water and electrical hookups and multiple fridges and sinks and a mini kitchen and the works. Fully functional tea shop. Very important to note that it was there last night, The work chat was discussing another issue last night at closing time. I'll get back to this.
It's been showing signs of being on the way out with how business is being handled lately and I've been considering other options, which is probably why I'm not as torn up about this as I should be, but maybe it just hasn't set in yet, but that's not the point. The point is there's been a lot of shit breaking and not being replaced and nobody mentioning anything about it until I walk into work in the morning and have to figure out why shit like the fucking cash register isn't there today. So I'm kinda used to having to ask questions about big things that nobody bothered to update me on. I was out for two weeks recovering from a surgery, so I came to work this morning assuming there'd be some kind of bullshit, yeah?
So, the question I had to ask the chat this morning was:
Not a text I ever thought I'd have to send in sincerity, but there it is. Because what I found instead was a fenced off patch of discolored tiles and a few holes in the floor where my entire place of employment used to be.
And the answer? Nobody knows! It was there last night when the mall closed, and every single trace of the structure and all its contents including drink making supplies and our safe and cashbox was gone when it opened again. And when I say nobody knows, I mean everyone from last night's closers to the actual (former?) owner of the store jad no fucking clue about this until getting that text from me this morning. For once I am actually the first to know. 🎉.
So. I guess I didn't so much lose my job as had it stolen. Not by AI, but good old fashioned hands-on human beings picking it up and carrying it away somehow. All mall security would tell me was that they were instructed not to tell me anything and have us contact our management. Who also don't know anything. And later on I came across some construction workers around the gravesite of the kiosk discussing filling in the holes, asked them about it, and was told that they "weren't at liberty to say".
So, not only is my job gone in the most literal physical sense of the word, but it was taken in some kind of super secret kiosk extraction in the dead of night without any warning or witnesses and nobody is allowed to speak of it. The store owner said she was gonna figure it out 10 hours ago and still no word back.
I don't know what else to say aside from I've been laughing all day and I'm gonna have a hell of a time explaining Schrodinger's Unemployment to the benefits office.
Update that is not an update because I'm basically certain this isn't what actually happened:
My mother in law thinks the FBI took it.
Not any of the other stores around the state. Just the one little kiosk.
Why? Because she loves a conspiracy and is just a little bit extra.
Also because she was around for the massive crackdown on Yakuza-owned businesses in Waikiki (in her homestate) that did actually involve the FBI seizing stores (no confirmation of making kiosks cleanly disappear in the middle of the night though).
Still no word from my job on what's actually going on, but the most likely theory so far is that maybe the kiosk was on lease and got repossessed? The mystery continues
(also shout out to the person who proposed Carmen Sandiego)
According to the owner, based on what she's been able to find out, the kiosk was not removed legally and they're starting a potentially long process of legal action. I hope she gets to sue the shit out of whoever did it but for now at least I know for sure I'm unemployed.
Really hoping for more details in terms of who/why/how, so I'll keep updating if I learn anything.
For now the summary is: An unnamed entity that is most likely mall management (on account of mall security cooperating with them) stole an entire kiosk and all the contents including money and machinery with barely a trace in the middle of the night grinch-style, with zero warning or explanation, and ensured the silence of both security and the construction crew, in an action that was definitely preplanned and illegal, and as far as I know nobody knows its whereabouts.
So now I'm officially out of a job. Because my workplace was literally stolen in the night.
Actually fuck it let's share some photos cause I wouldn't be inclined to believe this myself. It's not like anyone can stalk me at my job now and I'm not gonna have to see any coworkers that might find my tumblr.
Enjoy the unintentionally funniest text I've ever sent in my life
Aaand a close-up:
The last remains of a once Very Much Solid And Immobile Workplace
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they’re having an auction of ALA “Read” posters and I need everyone to get in on this:
SIGNED Spike Lee? the iconic Nicolas Cage one? Xena and Gabrielle? the one that just says “SEX”? LeVar Burton?? and there’s so much more on the site like Fabio and a signed one with Mikhail Baryshnikov and one with Brandy, etc., etc. I wish I had money to drop on this
Each Sunday, post six sentences from a writing project — published, submitted, in progress, for your cat — whatever.
You’ll enjoy this, he reminded himself. Daddy had promised he would enjoy himself. He tried to tell himself that as his stomach tied itself into knots.
“Case number two six seven five three nine A, in regards to the minor child Jonathan Andrew Sims,” the clerk called.
Jon’s stomach wrenched harder.
Melanie leaned over and whispered fiercely, “Not without me.”
holy shit okay may have found a game-changer for web searches...with duckduckgo it's easy to turn off the ai features permanently, but regardless of engine there's the increasing problem of the search results themselves leading mostly to ai-generated articles on random ghost websites that say a lot without any information, and then the information they do give is contradictory or otherwise just wrong. this is especially a problem for me when trying to search for, e.g., a current list of the best products in a certain category.
finally searched for a solution and there IS in fact a giant hand-curated list of sites containing this content. it can be imported to ublock origin on desktop or mobile, and even can be used on iOS via the ublacklist extension in the safari app. it's updated regularly, and importing via the link as described should allow those updates to go into effect automatically.
i've only tested it a little bit, but after importing the list and repeating my duckduckgo search for backpack recommendations, my top results now lead to websites that appear to be linked to actual organizations in some form, with an "about us" page and the name of a founder and everything. the text is still often a bit wordy and SEO-optimized, but it now has actual recommendations that are relevant to the query. BIG IF TRUE???
please do not start talking about The Definition Of Art on this post, or Whether Human Creations Have Souls. i am very tired.
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