#phone gives automatic capital letters

[armenelols]

A moment of silence for my two failed attempts at an easy five minute test, not because I didn't know the answers, but because I forgot capital letters exist and also wasn't sure if lithium is lithium or litium in Czech

[robotgirlservos]

I thought it might be a little hard to tell who's fronting at times because we're not the best about straight up telling people. There are ways to tell by how we actually type out our messages, and we've compiled them here:

Isabelle:

Sometimes capitalizes things, but its mostly just what our phone automatically does. Often drops the ending g on words like going, playing, eating, etc. Hardly ever uses puntuation, even for contractions. Can't use 'naughty' words due to profanity filter.

"Just noticed the update when i was gettin it for you, theres so much new stuff"

Obsidian:

Proper spelling, grammar, punctuation, capitalization, all that. Has a larger vocabulary than the others. Will make a lot of creature noises.

"Myerp merp yip mip mrrp myip yip yop myip! That concluses my essay on why you should give me scritches and treats."

Clover:

Speaks very quietly and represents that by never capitalizing anything. Stutters sometimes, doubling up on random letters. When feeling particularly quiet or shy, uses tiny text. Rarely uses punctuation unless its ellipsis.

"ssorry i fell asleep on yyou.. ᶦ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˢᵒ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ..."

[nomadinia]

Chronicles of an unfortunate athlete (part 1)

I waited a long time to write this review because I wanted to make sure I had all the facts. I was originally going to give CareAxis a 1 star rating, but the physiotherapist I met with was beyond amazing, hence the only reason for my 2 star rating. Note, this review is more about my experience as an athlete with one of the doctors running this program than the program itself.

There is so much to say that I don't really know where to begin, but let me start by saying that dealing with the CareAxis neurosurgeon's office was one of the most frustrating medical experiences I have ever had. Since my situation is quite peculiar, I have dealt with my fair share of unhelpful doctors, but this neurosurgeon in particular is the epitome of medical nonchalance in my eyes.

This has been a 5 years odyssey, so I’ll try to be as concise as I can throughout this review.

I am a former competitive varsity athlete and some of my teammates have gone on to become Olympians. Needless to say, my body has endured some grueling training. I trained at a competitive level from the age of 18 to 23, and one thing about grueling training is that it makes one very attuned to their body, so I’ve always known automatically when something was up with mine. I always wanted to continue my competitive career at a professional level, but unfortunately due to debilitating back and shin pain and incontinence (keep that in mind), I had to retire from competitive athletics at 24. Fitness and competitive athletics were everything to me, I had a fitness blog with over 62,000 followers, I was about to start a fitness channel, and I was putting in the hard work towards becoming a professional runner.

My deteriorating physical health took a huge toll on me mentally, but despite my early retirement, I still clung to my dreams of returning to competitive athletics. So for 3 years, I had endless appointments with my family doctor to try to find the cause of my symptoms. However, at 27, I was tired of getting nowhere, so I started pushing for diagnostic tests. I am fortunate to have a family doctor who understands my drive and doesn't mind sending me for diagnostic tests as long as I pay for them.

In June 2020, I had a full body MRI and that's when we discovered that I had moderate to severe congenital lumbar spinal stenosis (L4-L5-S1). Thinking it was the source of my ailments, my doctor and I were ecstatic. I was even more ecstatic knowing that there were still hopes of qualifying for Boston 2022 if I could get surgery in 2020. Since I knew how ridiculously long the wait time for a neurosurgeon is in Quebec, I searched the Internet for private neurosurgeons in Quebec. I was very happy to CareAxis initiative and thought it was really great after reading about it. Besides, because the program included an orthopedic surgeon, I was even more excited, thinking, "let's kill two birds with one stone - we can find a solution to my back pain and also to my shin pain”. All in all, I had so much high hopes.

One thing leading to another, I self-referred myself to the program, met with a physiotherapist (to whom I gave a copy of my MRI report and a flash drive containing the images thinking that would be sent to the neurosurgeon (keep that in mind). I have to commend CareAxis because I was contacted fairly quickly after my assessment with the physiotherapist (2-3 days). Unfortunately, I couldn't make it to the appointment because I live 2 hours away from Montreal and I'm a public servant, so I can't just give a 2 day notice to my manager. I opted for a phone consultation.

Now that's where the whole debacle begins...

1) At our first consultation, the neurosurgeon did not have my MRI report or MRI imaging study. I was baffled because (a) this information had been provided to the physiotherapist, and (b) I distinctly remember leaving a voicemail for one of his receptionists with the information of the clinic where I had my MRI.

I was so excited for our first phone consultation, but it really turned out to be unfruitful. Side note, he is very punctual in terms of his phone consultations. I was very disappointed though since our first consultation lasted less than 15 min if I remember correctly. Although disappointed, I was not mad because it was more of an administrative error. I couldn't really blame the neurosurgeon, but it should have been a red flag call to the many communication flaws in this program. Before ending our phone call, he asked me to send him a copy of the MRI images and the report and I did so promptly.

2) Since the clinic where I had my MRI did not provide me with a CD, as patients have access to an online portal, I downloaded the images onto a flash drive and sent it to the neurosurgeon. On our first phone call, I mentioned this and made sure that sending the flash drive was okay. He confirmed that it was ok. Everything was sent by express mail, so I knew he would receive it within a week.

I waited a whole week and no phone call.... Knowing how busy neurosurgeons are, I let the time pass (a WHOLE month) because I figured he had a lot to do. Besides, no one likes to be seen as a clingy patient... Of course, after a whole month of no response, I finally called his clinic and to my surprise, his secretary informed me that he had not been able to open the USB drive... Internally, I was very annoyed because this meant that if I hadn't called his clinic, no one would have informed me of the problem. Once again, I brushed off the issue and told his secretary that I would contact the Vancouver clinic to have the CD sent to them.

3) I contacted the Vancouver clinic and had the CD sent to the neurosurgeon’s office. I think it was sent to him fairly quickly. Unfortunately, he was once again unable to see my images as his clinic did not have the necessary technology and once again nobody informed me of the problem. Again, I wasn't really mad because the technology used in Vancouver to perform my MRI required a specific type of software (DICOM).

I found it strange though that a hospital could not open a DICOM file given that (a) I was able to see the images on my computer after downloading a DICOM software and (b) other clinics were also able to open the images. Anyhow, I was not too bothered by this problem, what irritated me was once again the lack of communication from neurosurgeon’s office.

4) Since the neurosurgeon could not open my MRI images, he scheduled me for an MRI and, yes, you guessed it, again, no one called to inform me. It was a total shock to me when on Christmas Eve (December 24) I received a letter in the mail informing me of an MRI scheduled for December 26. I live in the National Capital Region, which meant a two-hour drive that I didn't mind, but for God's sake, it was the holidays and people make plans at this time of year. Of course, when I tried to call the radiology division to tell them I couldn't make it, I was greeted with an auto message saying they were closed, so of course I couldn't talk to anyone. That's when I started to get more than a little annoyed.

Fast forward, I ended up getting the MRI he ordered. While I really despise many aspects of his program, I have to give credit where it is due – the MRI rescheduling was done pretty quickly (February 2021). Now we are getting to the part that really was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Because of all the shenanigan going on, it took the neurosurgeon about six months to tell me that it was not my spinal stenosis that was causing my shin pain and incontinence. I don't mind him not knowing what was causing my shin pain and incontinence, but the fact that the whole process took six months is unacceptable!

From the time I referred myself to CareAxis (September 2020) to the time the neurosurgeon was finally able to get an MRI of my spine (February 2021), six months elapsed. For many people, 6 months may not seem like much, but for a high-performance athlete who wants to return to their sport, it's half a year. In the world of sports, especially high performance sports, so much can be accomplished in six months, especially in terms of training or rehabilitation... Keep in mind that since I was out of my sport for such a long period of time, I could have really used some of that time to reacclimate my body to a high and demanding level of physical training. Those six months of shenanigans really could have been cut in half if only there had been ongoing communication with the patient (i.e., myself). I could have been proactive on so many aspects throughout the process.

Since the neurosurgeon was quite baffled by my situation, he decided to make an appointment for an in-person consultation to better evaluate me (in May 2021). However, I remember having a strange feeling during our last phone call - as I explained my symptoms to him, I could sense the disinterest in his voice. At that point, I realized that he is the type of doctor who won't do much to help an athlete get back into their sport.

After our last phone conversation, I fell into a depression because I was disappointed that my spinal stenosis wasn't the cause of my shin pain and incontinence. I was really at my wits end with all the diagnostic tests and medical appointments. Eventually, I picked myself back up and, because I didn't want my judgment to be clouded, I cancelled the in-person consultation with the neurosurgeon and decided it would be best if I did some research on my own. I also asked my doctor at the time to refer me to a sports medicine doctor.

Long story short, after doing extensive research, I felt confident enough to meet with the neurosurgeon. So I called his clinic to make an appointment - his office never returned my call (it's been 7 months now). Dr. Santaguida never sent notes to my doctor either and didn't even try to refer me to anyone else. He simply forgot about me. Fortunately, I was always proactive, and during those 7 months, I had asked my doctor for a referral to another neurosurgeon, but more importantly, I sought recommendations from experts. I contacted a Norwegian MSK rehabilitation and injuries specialist who reviewed my MRI images and recommended the right spine surgery. Furthermore, I obtained a second opinion from Sandford University, Jefferson University, UC San Diego, and the Global neurosciences institute. And we were able to shed some light on the incontinence.

With a proper physical exam and detailed sports history, we could have easily shed light on most of my ailments. Moreover, I could have had the necessary additional tests quickly and been on my way back to a very physical lifestyle. It turned out that in addition to spinal stenosis, I have chronic exertional compartment syndrome – CECS (shin pain) and a sports hernia (Gilmore's groin, athletic pubalgia, whatever you want to call it) in my right groin that causes the urological symptoms (incontinence). And to top it all off, I have PCOS.

Imagine having PCOS along with moderate to severe spinal stenosis, CECS and a sports hernia that irritates the bladder. Life was certainly not joyful... While the chances of the CareAxis neurosurgeon suspecting CECS and athletic pubalgia would have been very slim, he worked with an orthopedic surgeon who could have given him excellent advice on how to manage a former athlete... This neurosurgeon could have even referred me or suggested that I see a sport doctor. I went through many extra hurdles that could have been avoided.

While I can't fault the neurosurgeon for not knowing about CECS and sports hernias, as these are occult sports injuries that only a sports physician or team of experts would suspect, I am definitely irritated that I had to endure unnecessary pain and that proper treatment was delayed.

[thelordofdarkreunion]

Things the Scoundrels Are No Longer Allowed to Do Part III

Based on “Skippy’s List,” this is a continuation of Things the Scoundrels are No Longer Allowed to Do.  I hope you like it.

Part I

https://thelordofdarkreunion.tumblr.com/post/637424500291600384/a-list-of-things-the-scoundrels-are-no-longer

Part II

https://thelordofdarkreunion.tumblr.com/post/660088048783097856/things-the-scoundrels-are-no-longer-allowed-to-do

371.   The “dibs” system is not a recognized method of promotion in the military.

372.   High recoil guns and roller skates are not an accepted method of transportation.

373.   You can’t find the true names of demons in the phone book.

374.   If the top floor is too well defended, you can’t just blow off the next to top floor.

375.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to elope with anyone for any reason.

376.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to give anyone preemptive last rites.

377.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to name droids IC-UP.

378.   The male and female members of the Scoundrels are no longer allowed to hold competitions against each other outside the Scoundrels fleet.  The last time that happened, the governor’s palace on Fildenfal got destroyed.

379.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to fish with flamethrowers.

380.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to call radio talk shows in the middle of missions.

381.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to re-create any scenes from Grease.

382.    Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.

383.   No amount of genetic engineering can turn pigs kosher.

384.   There is not a map written in invisible ink on the back of the Declaration of Independence.

385.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to run for political office.  Especially with the slogans “vote for me or I’ll kill you all,” or “because I’m just that awesome.”

386.   When asked who their greatest role model is, the Scoundrels are no longer allowed to answer Agent Smith from The Matrix.

387.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to shoot any god in the face just to brag that they did so.

388.   Stain glass windows are not standard features on tanks.  Stop giving the Imperium ideas.

389.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to use guns to communicate in Morse code.

390.   If it is cheaper to buy a new starship than reload your weapon, then there is a problem.

391.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to announce their arrival with eight straight hours of orbital bombardment.

392.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to put small restaurants on the bridges of their starships.

393.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to rent ad space on the outsides of their starships.

394.   The Dirty Harry “Are you feeling lucky, punk?” speech does not really work with fully automatic pistols.

395.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to play High Speed Dirt while making emergency orbital re-entry.

396.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to convince shapeshifters to change into any celebrities or murderous dictators.

397.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to scan alien ambassadors for “cooties.”

398.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to use government resources to pay their restaurant bills.

399.   Most places frown upon using ammunition as currency.

400.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to mount bayonets on flamethrowers.

401.   You can’t thwart Reaper cyber attacks by installing Norton antivirus.

402.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to sing along with the elevator music.

403.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to use the Enterprise’s Holodeck to recreate scenes from Caligula.

404.   Starting a flame war on the internet is bad.  Starting a flame war not on the internet is much, much worse.

405.   If it takes more than five minutes for the debris to stop falling, you need a smaller gun.

406.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to name newly discovered planets after themselves.

407.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to build Gatling Gatling guns.

408.   Klingons do not have French accents, and it is wrong to state otherwise.

409.   Darth Nihilus does not “just need a hug.”

410.   Dr. Suess rhymes do not have any part in exorcisms.

411.   Unitards are not part of any of our governments’ dress uniforms.

412.   Using heavy artillery in assassinations is just being lazy.

413.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to buy onesie pajamas to “raise crew morale.”

414.   You can’t just shoot a hole in the surface of Mars.

415.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to surf in active war zones.

416.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to put discotheques, bowling alleys, or movie theaters in their starships.

417.   “Getting uppity” is not a capital offense.

418.   Deer season is restricted to rifles and bows, and, thus, the Scoundrels are no longer allowed to hunt deer using Greco-Roman wrestling.

419.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to start telethons.

420.   Imperial Star Destroyers do not have help desks.

421.   The Covenant does not have an IT department.

422.   Using ventriloquism to trick your enemies into fighting each other is fine.  Using ventriloquism to trick your superior officers in fighting is not.

423.   You can’t suplex Tyranid monstrosities.

424.   Summary Execution Man is not an appropriate name for a superhero.

425.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to ask the Ultramarines why their chapter’s primary color isn’t ultramarine.

426.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to recreate scenes from Blues Brothers.

427.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to tell AI’s that only humans can divide by zero.

428.   The Scoundrels do not need to know the melting point of Borg.

429.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to post-date letters of marque.

430.   The city of Boise, Idaho, does not need a dark, brooding vigilante of the night.

431.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to run up their enemies’ cable bills by ordering PPV movies on their TVs.

432.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to improvise, “wing”, or fabricate alien funeral rites.

433.   The Scoundrels will keep all eldritch artifacts of unspeakable power out of the reach of small children.

434.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to ask tech-priests if they are AC or DC.

435.   “Medium rare” is not a phaser setting.

436.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to hold AT-AT drag races.

437.   Any gun that’s wattage is best described in scientific notation is not allowed.

438.   Off duty Space Marines wear robes, not tank tops and speedos.

439.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to enter or exit buildings while playing Carolus Rex.

440.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to brew any alcohol that can double as jet fuel.

441.   Vrul do not appreciate the Socratic method.

442.   Snipers don’t appreciate their spotters yelling “Boom!  Headshot!”

443.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to do anything they saw Nicholas Cage do.

444.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to call suicide prevention hotlines on behalf of the Death Korps of Krieg.

445.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to make Liechtenstein a world superpower.

446.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to make any plan that hinges on their opponent having a peanut allergy.

447.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to hack into the national address systems of any government that could be considered communist and broadcast Economics 101 lessons over them.

448.   Apex Predator Pilots will not respond to jury summons.

449.   They do not make civilian models of mini guns, and the Scoundrels are discouraged to visit any country that does.

450.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to regift cursed artifacts.

451.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to convince super soldiers to get pompadour, Afro, or macaroni hairstyles.

452.   You can’t plea bargain mass regicide, even if the rulers in question were incredibly corrupt.

453.   When asked who the greatest human being of all time was, the Scoundrels are no longer allowed to answer Millard Fillmore.  (Who’s Millard Fillmore?)

454.   There will be no more product placement in the mission evaluation videos.

455.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to commission statues of themselves, especially if said statue is meant to be mounted on the outside of their starships.

456.   Mission preparation does not include a mani/pedi.

457.   It is best if Master Chief does not go through the metal detector in customs.

458.   “Call in the Deathwatch and wait for the screams to stop” is not automatically Plan A.

459.   Despite its tremendous cost to benefit ratio, bubble wrap is not a staple in black op missions.

460.   If challenged to a competition by an individual of a species whose average height is below 5’5”, the Scoundrels are no longer allowed to choose basketball.

461.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to question ONI agents or Ordo Malleus operatives on why a town of 4,000 people with zero strategic value warranted a 100 megaton nuke.

462.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to genetically engineer walruses to ballroom dance.

463.   In retrospect, it was a bad idea to show Imperial Inquisitors Monty Python skits.

464.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to engage in any “research” involving more than a gallon of super balls.

465.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to lease out Halo Rings, even if they include the option to buy.

466.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to be in possession of any carbonated beverages while in possession of Mentos brand mints.  The last time that happened, they somehow managed to cause an earthquake near Indonesia.  The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to claim responsibility for natural disasters unless they were actually responsible for them.

467.   The Scoundrels will refrain from encouraging tech-priests to develop emotional attachments to heavy ordinance.

468.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to form political parties, especially based on themselves.

469.   Anesthetic is not “only for sissies.”

470.   If the person who posted a bounty asks for proof, the Scoundrels are no longer allowed to bring back the bounty’s reanimated corpse.

471.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to abuse homonyms.

472.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to purchase modern art with government funds.

473.   “The Chaos Gods are bad, so, therefore we should reforge and summon the Nightbringer to destroy them” is a really, really bad idea.

474.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to start a cult that worships Richard Sharpe, Jason Bourne, or John Wick.

475.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to abuse union bylaws to exploit holes in security.

476.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to expose individuals to Reaper technology, Sith holocrons and Chaos artifacts to “see which form of corruption will win.”

477.   Militaristic, highly honorable species, such as the Drev or Klingon, do not appreciate you fighting dirty in their trials by combat.

478.   If asked to choose a religion, the Scoundrels cannot make their choice solely by the greatest number of sexual positions it allows.

479.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to rate their favorite alien species by which ones have reproductive systems closest to humanity.

480.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to dual wield .50 caliber machine guns.

481.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to say “I am Alpharius.”  Ever.

482.   There is no such thing as a right to a strip search.

483.   While it is customary to initiate a duel by striking with a gauntlet, it is also customary to do so at subsonic speeds.

484.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to use heavy artillery for industrial purposes.

485.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to use wombats for medicinal purposes.

486.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to spend the entirety of their bonus pay on flamethrowers.

487.   The following aren’t acceptable seconds in duels: Space Marine Chapter Masters (even if you are on a first name basis with them), intelligent demon swords, the primarch of Palaven, Prussia.

488.   The Scoundrels will keep the amount of sexual innuendo to a minimum during autopsy reports.

489.   If you are given a wish by an immortal, you are to leave out the words “you incompetent prick.”

490.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to organize skeet shoots with office furniture.

491.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to genetically engineer any animal from the continent of Australia.

492.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to start wars over what the best polearm is.

493.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to give shout-outs in ransom notes.

494.   You can’t learn a language by only learning the profanities of said language.  Even if the Russians in your crews disagree.

495.   If a party is black tie, that doesn’t mean just painted on the armor.

496.   Every day is not Mardi Gras.

497.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to sneak into the Sanctum Imperialis or the Celzex throne room disguised as a documentary crew.  Especially on behalf of Trazyn the Infinite.

498.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to threaten sentient monsters by telling Cajun restaurants their location.

499.  The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to abuse the “kids eat free” rule at any restaurant.

500.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to compare Starfleet uniforms to the Wiggles.

501.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to dump napalm in fire sprinkler tanks.

502.   Support gunships are for air support, not beer runs.

503.   While acting as sniper spotters, the Scoundrels are no longer allowed to play I Spy.

504.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to call enemy corporation’s tech support for help with breaking into their computer network.

505.  “Humor me” is not an acceptable targeting parameter on robotic sentry guns.

506.   None of the Scoundrels need 10 tons of duct tape for any reason whatsoever.

507.   It is not a race to strip mine a planet.

508.  The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to buy any major league sports team.

509.   Asking a taxidermist to stuff a deer head is OK.  Asking the same taxidermist to stuff a full-size rancor is not.

510.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to use necron “My Will Be Done” programs on Reapers.

511.   Any argument with your significant other will be done verbally and in person, not across the battlefield using heavy artillery as Morse code.

512.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to imitate Captain Jack Sparrow in any way, shape, or form.

513.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to use Siri as their ship’s central computer.

514.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to play the theme from Jaws on missions to aquatic planets.

515.   There are only so many flavors of beef jerky, and the Scoundrels are no longer allowed to create new ones.

516.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to create their own frozen pizza lines.

517.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to go trick-or-treating, especially dressed as themselves.

518.   Peter Quill is not allowed to quote Parks and Recreation.

519.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to communicate exclusively in a computer programming language.

520.   The answer to a Flood invasion is not to ask junior personnel if they’re “bad enough dudes” to contain it.

521.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to ask weapons corporations to sponsor children’s charities.

522.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to conduct interviews on new personnel.  Especially not if they specifically ask for them.

523.   Ghillie suits are not formal wear.

524.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to summarily execute anyone who causes a M.R.V.N. to display a sad face.

525.   “Kill ‘em all and let God sort it out” is not a valid battle plan.

526.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to enter diplomatic conferences via the Old Time Rock and Roll slide.  Especially not in their underwear.

527.   “Excessive flatulence” is not a crime punishable by death.

528.   “Oops, I missed” does not excuse missing a shot by that much.

529.   Even if you claim you hit exactly what you were aiming at.

530.   The Scoundrels are no longer allowed to antagonize anyone who can kill them with their minds.  

There we have it.  I hope you enjoyed, and if you have any suggestions to add to the list, feel free to tell me!

[carebearbliss]

Stray Kids as your boyfriend

Chan: the considerate/selfless boyfriend

Honestly, is there anything he wouldn’t be willing to do for you?

His personality is just made out of 100% boyfriend material

Would probably give you the world if he could (his heart is as big as the moon let’s be honest here)

And with that, would probably automatically give you a couple of his sweaters before you even asked for them (or tried to steal them)

Would regularly check up on you, both mentally as well as physically, to make sure you’re okay

The type to care more about you than he would for himself, goes out of his way to make sure you know that you are loved

One word: C U D D L E S 

So so so gentle with you, wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt you ever

Sings you to sleep over the phone when you can’t fall asleep

Midnight conversations about the most innocent/most random of things, like how fluffy marshmallows are or how soft your hair is

Minho: the playful/sarcastic boyfriend

His presence alone is enough to make you feel comfortable

The type that will always be there for you and quietly stand by your side

Would help you out with practical tasks without you asking

Lots of sarcastic bantering and back-and-forth teasing, which probably includes playful insults as a normal way of conversating

Very patient and understanding

A very good listener, he would be the type to remember random things about you or ask in-depth questions to get to know you better

Lots of movie dates at home, incl. a pillow fortress and plenty of snacks

Surprisingly funny and confident/daring at times, which makes you either cringe or blush honestly

Has these random moments in which he says something flirtatious suddenly and catches you off-guard

Weird dance battles shall and will ensue

Also midnight conversations, but mostly about the weirdest existential topics like how aliens would look like if they existed or whether clones exist

Changin: the chill boyfriend

Would never yell or raise his voice to his girlfriend, ever

Treats you like a Princess with a capital letter P

But at the same time you’re also his homegirl y’know what I mean?

Recommends his favorite songs to you, occasionally makes you a playlist as well

Chilling at each other’s place, just listening to music, catching up and talking about your interests or what happened during the day

Talks brags about you constantly to his members

Very proud to have you as his girlfriend and wouldn’t be afraid to let you know either (if you didn’t already)

Secretly acts kinda cute at times, especially when he’s excited and you two are having fun

Lots of time spent in the recording studio, with you listening to and evaluating his rapping and the lyrics he has written

Very protective of you, looks out for you even from a distance just to make sure everything is safe and okay

Hyunjin: the caring boyfriend

Can be quite shy at the beginning, but wants to make sure you feel at ease and so asks a lot of questions

Conversations about how your day was, talking about your concerns and comforting you through his kind, sincere words

Hugs and snuggles, and lots of ‘em

Listens attentively to whatever you have to say, remembers little details about you and brings them up occasionally

Tries his hardest to understand you and be empathic towards your circumstances and struggles

The type to smile at you shyly after holding your hand or kissing you (for the first time)

Blushes easily but that doesn’t stop him from initiating PDA

When he’s having a hard time, you’re the first person he would go to for comfort and a listening ear

Lowkey clingy but mostly when you two are alone together

Entire albums on both of your phones full of cute pictures of each other to look through when you’re apart and missing one another

Han: the enthusiastic boyfriend

Lives to make you smile every second you’re spending time with him

Tries out all his pickup lines on you just cause he can

Lowkey says flirtatious stuff just to make you blush, but if you retaliate with a flirtatious line of your own, he’ll get shy

Tbh he’d flirt with you all the time, even if you guys are already in a rocksolid relationship

Proudly proclaims to his members that he has the best girlfriend

Dramatically supportive of you every step of the way

The type to randomly show up at your house with a cake and some balloons to celebrate you passing your exams (or any other occasion, honestly)

Always tries to be his happiest around you

Likes to be close to you, doesn’t necessarily have to be PDA, just likes to be near you as much as possible

Loves to see you eating well, also loves spoiling you with food for that matter 

Felix: the best friend boyfriend

Weird and out-of-control dance battles all. the. time.

A lot of your free time is spent doing silly dances with him or copying memes/making TikTok videos, just goofing around casually

Laughs at all of your jokes, even the ones that ain’t that funny

If you compliment him, even on the tiniest of things, it’ll make his day for a whole week

Finds everything you do to be absolutely adorable

It doesn’t matter where you are or what you two are doing, when you’re together it’s just going to be a good time and y’all know it

Always amazed at how great of a person you are, genuinely looks up to you

Just a general appreciation for having you by his side to comfort and support him when he needs it

Lots of casual snuggle sessions while you’re just chilling

Crazy sing-offs just to see who can sing the loudest/highest

Inside jokes are a must you hear me

Treasures any gift you ever give him like it’s basically his most valuable possession

Seungmin: the sweet boyfriend 

This guy is honestly such a sweetheart, periodt

Not a big fan of PDA, but still likes to hold your hand when you’re walking next to each other

You’re the first person he goes to when he has some exciting/good news to share

Basically, you’re his best friend, and he’s yours :)

Very go-with-the-flow, open to trying out whatever it is you want to do (unless it’s highkey dangerous)

Very gentle & gentlemanly, always takes you into consideration to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable

When you’re sad, comforts you with lots of comfort food and Disney marathons

Compliments you and says the sweetest things to you just to make you smile

Rarely ever says no to anything you ask of him

Calls you up or texts you out of the blue just to ask you how your day was, then actually listens attentively to anything you have to say

Likes to take lots of pictures of you when you’re on a date

Day6 concert dates y e s

Jeongin: the good/kind boyfriend

Treats you like he’d treat his good friends, but including occasional blushing, internal panicking and shyly looking away when you stare at him for too long

Tries really hard to be a good boyfriend to you, tries to pay attention to your interests and what you have to say

You can’t help but develop a soft spot for him (like the rest of Stray Kids)

Sometimes you make him really nervous, but he’d still randomly initiate PDA like holding your hands 

Ruffles your hair every time you do something that he finds to be adorable, which is kind of always?

Randomly boops your nose then gives you a huge smile

Just really happy when he sees you, like a small pup whose owner just got home y’know?

Melts into a puddle when you compliment him

Doesn’t really care about what you guys are doing, as long as you’re together

The type to watch kdramas just to figure out what kind of romantic gestures he can surprise you with

Then shows up at your doorstep with flowers he picked along the way and a cute card

[2018shawn]

a small, quick write based on a concept me and @cumholland​ were talking about aka tom being obsessed with naming your unborn child

the day you found out you were pregnant, not only were your excited, but also shit scared terrified of carrying a little human, who literally depended on you for everything. two hours into the discovery, tom was already talking about names because he felt bad for calling him/her “the bub”. unbeknown to you, he’d ordered not one... not two... not three... but four baby name books, next day delivery, because he couldn’t think (nor spell) to save his life and he already had a name on the tip of his tongue, but he’d be damned if he could get the prefect fitting. 

what else you didn’t know, is that he’d ordered the books to your name, so when he’d left for work the next morning and you received the package, your eyebrows knitted together and hands immediately got to work on unwrapping the brown package. you couldn’t help the single tear that left your eye as you studied each individual book, opening each book to a random page and picking a random name each time. 

you opened your text conversation to tom, typing the four names you’d let your eyes fall over automatically. it was a while before he replied, but that was normal, considering he was a ridiculously busy movie star with a schedule busier than the moon. but when he did reply, your heart warmed at the names he’d returned, although, you were sure anything he said could make your heart flutter and knees fall weak.

when you got to 12 weeks, you both decided it was more than safe enough for you to officially declare yourself pregnant. the news soon spread far and wide, your friends, family and fans soon learning of the information and the incoming tweets, messages and instagram dm’s soon filled your phone, almost half of them being a suggestion of names. as you and tom sat on the sofa one cosy saturday evening, pizza on your legs and tessa giving the best puppy dog eyes, you started to scroll through the infinite amount of messages whilst suggesting the best choices aloud to tom.

“verity?” you asked, picking all the pepperoni off you pizza, even though you specifically asked for it.

“eh.... kinda old fashioned.” he shrugged, his sweat shorts riding high up his thighs and grey nike sweat top clinging to his body perfectly. it was then, you realised, there was no wonder how you got so pregnant so quick.

“okaaaaay...” you scrolled through more, screwing your face up at some suggestions until you landed on another that caught your eye. 

“sophie?”

“nope.”

you sighed, grunting until you found another name. “harper?”

“like the instrument?” he asked, picking the discarded pepperoni from your cardboard box and throwing it into his mouth. 

you took that as a no, although you weren't sure if he was being serious. “alfie?”

he was silent for a small while, letting himself finish the spiced pepperoni before washing it down with a neck full of beer. nodding, you could tell he was genuinely thinking about it, as if he was spelling out alfie holland in his head, just like you were. the last bite of his stuffed crust drove you insane, and it was almost like your baby’s name depended on this very decision. “alfie thomas holland.” 

that saturday night, four weeks ago, was the last time you and tom had talked about baby names and you thought that was okay, you wasn’t putting any pressure on it. 16 weeks in, your baby the size of an avocado (apparently), tom had to fly across the pacific pond for some work stuff and you hated every minute of saying goodbye. he hated it even more. he hated when he had to say goodbye, even when you weren't pregnant, but now you were carrying a mini tom, he fought with everything he had in him to not leave the country although his pleads were denied. tommy, it’s okay. you assured him, we’ll both be here waiting for you. you’d said, watching him walk away with his lonely suitcase as he boarded the plane. that was all it took for you too pull your phone out and send the message. 

two days into tom’s work trip, you were knee deep in contracts and invoices that your boss had sent, with firm instruction that they all must be completed by the time the sun sets. tom was sat in a beauty chair, gushing to his hair stylist how perfect of a mum you’ll be, while you poured yourself a fifth cup of tea. you’d forgotten what a personal phone is, you’d forgotten what daylight looks like and you’d forgotten you were meant to be eating for two, letting the occasional lunch slip your mind. it was nothing new when you email notification sounded, the ping filling the room and making you roll your eyes, yet again. although, further research into the new email made your heart flutter and mouth smile, fully aware it was not from your boss, or let alone, any work colleague.

what about isaac for a boy?

or

evangeline for a girl?

love you soooooOooOooOOoOoO much

ps remember to eat

as a well known instagram poster, it was when you decided to go live that you decided tom was a total doofus, as if you hadn’t considered that summary beforehand. speaking to the zillion and one incoming messages, you answered as many questions as you could, trying to ignore the blue tick that kept appearing in the comments, bold capital letters threatening to take over the screen.

EMMA

IRIS

HUNTER

HANG ON...

NIKKI

BC MY MUM

in the midst, was a thousand and one people commenting how cute he was, only spurring him on to comment more names and as much as you tired to ignore it, you couldn’t. it was hard to answer any normal questions, your entire feed flooded with baby names and comments about tom and of course you weren’t mad, by any stretch of the imagination, but for once you though instagram might pull you back into normal life.

MARIE

LIKE THAT CAT

you finally gave in one night, agreeing to join tom at one of his live interviews and although you wouldn’t be appearing on the screen as such, you felt nervous for being in front of such a large audience and crew. tom had stayed with you as much as he could, before hair and make up beckoned him but even then, you stayed with harrison, who was able to calm you nerves and keep your mind occupied. 

tom, of course, appeared on the guest sofa looking like a complete snack as always, leaving you pining behind the camera. it began with many questions about the film, but when the guests had drunk a couple of sips of whiskey, the collars started to loosen and questions started to flow.

“so, tom, we have a name generator....” the host pulled out a fish bowl, full of folded up pieces of paper. “and we think, whatever you pull out you should name your unborn child...”

tom immediately looked for you, finding you just behind the camera man with a shocked, but amused expression. when you nodded, tom knew it was more than acceptable for him to play along, giving everyone what they wanted. his hand dipped deep into the bowl as he secretly wished for a name that he hoped would not only be super cute, but one that you'd already chosen together. he pulled out a single paper, the crowd and host on the edge of their sit as he unfolded. 

“thomas jr... really?!”

tom taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls  @mendesficsxbombay @cosmicholland

also thank u to @shawnsmoose​ for providing my drunk ass with names lmao

[wolexsocial]

How to Secure Your Small Business Website

When you think of crime in your small business, the first thing that comes to mind is often theft of products, materials, or equipment. However, this is not the only crime you have to worry about. As a small business, you cannot stay competitive without a website — and with exposure to the internet comes cybercrime. So, the question becomes, how do you protect your business website against these attacks?

 Wolex Technologies presents a guide that explains what you need to know.

 Use Secure Socket Layer Protection

 A secure socket layer (SSL certificates) creates a secure encrypted connection between you and whoever uses your website. This encrypted connection helps prevent would-be hackers from intercepting client data and other relevant information.

 Your entire website should use SSL. That way, customer and server side data are never exposed to anyone but you and your clients, no matter what page on the website they are on. You can recognize websites that use SSL because the web address begins with HTTPS.

 Watch Out for SQL Injection

 SQL has revolutionized the way that forms are used. This has also created issues with security. A SQL injection is when a potential threat uses a SQL form to inject new information that allows them to access client or server side data. When you are creating website forms in SQL, be sure to specify parameters. This creates a highly specific set of rules for the form input and stops hackers from making up their own using your forms.

 Hire a Professional

 When in doubt, hire the pros at Wolex who understand cybersecurity and who can efficiently set you up for multiple layers of protection. In addition to offering security solutions, Wolex also provides managed IT services, network consulting and wireless infrastructure services.

 Always Update

 You update your antivirus and other programs on your system, but what about your webserver? Make sure that you sign up for any security updates offered by your host and other website providers. It is always good to look for automatic updates when offered since this will keep you from logging in and manually updating any scripting, cart, and inventory programs.

 Use Strong Passwords and Logins

 This is a great rule for you, your clients, and your employees on any website or program you have to log into. Keep in mind rotating your password is frustrating and ultimately not beneficial. Using a strong password is an excellent way to make sure sites are secure.

 You should have password criteria that help people pick secure passwords. This means adding requirements like symbols, numbers, and capital letters.

 Beware of logins like admin, administrator, or client. You want each login to be unique to the user. This helps with tracking data, orders, and users as well as security.

 Two-Step Verification

 While you are looking into security options, you might want to add two-step verification to the list, particularly if you have sensitive client data or financial information on the web. During two-step verification you fill in your login, password and then the website sends a message to your phone or backup email to verify that it is you.

 Learn the Ropes

 It may seem extreme, but because you rely so much on your website and technology, it stands to reason that a great way to become familiar with all of the processes is to take coursework in computer science. This will give you the opportunity to fully understand the inner workings of your systems, and it can benefit you as you start to hire IT professionals or continue to work with outside agencies. Online degree programs make it easy for busy SBOs to return to school while still being able to successfully manage their businesses.

  Each of these precautions is easy to implement and hard for hackers to bypass. Keeping your website and your client's data secured should be a priority for your small business. When you’re ready to call in the pros, reach out to Wolex Technologies today! (503) 662-2190

[hogtown-socialist-alternative]

How Socialists Defeated Amazon’s Bid to Buy Seattle’s Elections

By Ty Moore -November 9, 2019

Jeff Bezos’s bid to buy Seattle City Council has backfired. Despite big business dropping unprecedented cash behind Amazon-backed candidates in all seven council races, Seattle voters rejected this attempt to flip the council to the right in all but two of the seven council races. In Seattle’s most-watched, most expensive, and most polarized council in decades, Socialist Alternative’s Kshama Sawant appears to have won a narrow victory.

(Watch the victory press conference here. )

After election night returns showed Sawant behind by 8 points, with 46% to Egan Orion’s 54%, the corporate media and big business sounded triumphalist. But 60% of late arriving ballots counted in the following days swung toward Kshama. By Friday evening’s count Sawant had crested 3.6% past Orion with a lead of 1,515 votes, with that number likely to rise a bit further in the days ahead.

Washington State’s mail-in ballot system allows voters to mail in their ballots up to three weeks before election day. Early voters tend to be older and wealthier, with later voters being disproportionately younger, working class, and renters – those more likely to vote socialist. This year the late ballot bump for Sawant was bigger than ever, a reflection of the huge 58% turnout in District 3. Even our critics in the local media were forced to credit Socialist Alternative’s record-breaking get-out-the-vote operation.

The high turnout also reflected the wave of outrage that swept Seattle in the final three weeks of the election following Amazon’s $1 million “money bomb” dropped on Seattle on October 14. This brought Amazon’s total contribution to the Seattle Chamber of Commerce PAC to $1.5 million, and corporate PAC spending as a whole to over $4.1 million – approaching five times the previous record!

National political figures weighed in against Amazon, followed by a wave of national media attention. The Wall Street Journal’s Editorial Board complained that “Bernie Sanders tweeted this week that Amazon’s spending in Seattle was ‘a perfect example of the out-of-control corporate greed we are going to end.’ Elizabeth Warren decried Amazon for ‘trying to tilt the Seattle City Council elections in their favor,’ adding that ‘I have a plan to get big money out of politics.’”

A Referendum on Corporate Power

Warning that Bezos’s $1.5 million gamble to defeat Sawant and other progressives may have backfired, Seattle Times columnist Danny Westneat said: “The election was playing out as a referendum on the performance of the City Council.” An Elway/Crosscut poll showed 67% of likely voters supporting “someone who wants to change” the Council’s direction. Westneat continued: “Now [the election] could well be a referendum on Amazon and corporate power” (10/23/19).

Of course, the Seattle Times is at the forefront of a relentless corporate propaganda offensive to blame Sawant and other so-called “left ideologues” for the failed “performance of the City Council” in addressing Seattle’s homelessness and affordability crisis, the top concern for voters. The paper endorsed Amazon-backed candidates in all seven council races, portraying them as “change” candidates.

In reality, Seattle’s housing crisis is part of the global failure of capitalism, which treats housing as a commodity to enrich billionaire speculators, rather than as a basic human right. Working people are right to be angry at the inaction of city, state, and federal authorities to address the crisis. But blame for this falls squarely on a political establishment that is complicit with corporate power, not on activists and political leaders like Kshama Sawant calling for universal rent control and taxing big business to massively expand quality public housing.

Amazon executives’ chosen opponent for Kshama was Egan Orion, a fully corporate candidate who posed as a “progressive” to win votes. Orion put posters up all over town saying he accepted no corporate PAC money despite the fact that he applied for corporate PAC money, interviewed with the PAC, and thanked them when he got their endorsement. He sent out mailers with lies about Kshama to every household.

Orion’s supporters tore down over 1,000 Kshama Sawant yard signs throughout the district, and in the final two weeks, they vandalized over 200 signs with spray-painted profanities. Crucial to overcoming the lies and attacks against our campaign was building widespread public awareness about this attempt to buy the election through thousands of conversations on the doors and at street corners by our members and volunteers.

Debate on Seattle’s Left

Once again, Seattle has shown that socialists and working people can take on the most powerful corporate titans and win. This victory should give confidence to movements everywhere, from the recent wave of mass anti-austerity and democracy protests spreading across the globe, to the youth climate strikes, labor battles, as well as other socialist election campaigns including Bernie Sanders’ inspiring fight for the presidency.

Yet it would be a major mistake to imagine that similar victories can be won through struggle and determination alone. The role of Marxist perspectives, program, and organization was essential in Seattle and will be vital to defeating the concentrated power of the capitalist class everywhere.

At the start of the election campaign, a de-facto alliance between big business, key labor leaders, and most liberal political figures had coalesced to try and defeat Sawant and block the election of Democratic Socialists of America candidate Shaun Scott in District 4. This anti-Sawant alliance came to life in the aftermath of the “Tax Amazon” campaign in 2018, which went down in defeat following aggressive bullying by Amazon, including threats to move jobs out of Seattle.

The broad coalition built around the Tax Amazon campaign, in which Sawant’s office and Socialist Alternative played a central role, initially won unanimous passage of the tax on the top 3% of Seattle corporations to pay for affordable housing and homeless services. However, facing intense pressure from big business and a well-funded repeal campaign, this coalition was shattered and city council repealed the tax in a 7-2 vote just one month later.

From left-liberal and pro-business voices alike, blame for the defeat was put on the “divisive” approach of Sawant and Socialist Alternative. Despite support from a number of unions, leaders of the Ironworkers and other trades angrily denounced the campaign as a “tax on jobs,” fearful that Amazon would follow through on their threats to cut back new construction in retaliation.

In the August 6 primary, with no endorsements from her fellow city councilmembers or other prominent Democratic Party politicians, with labor publicly divided, Sawant received just 37% in the primary election. “No incumbent in recent memory has survived a primary showing that low,” wrote Westneat in the Seattle Times (8/7/19). “[T]he days on the council for the crusader for rent control and taxes on big business could be numbered.”

The Fight for Unity Against Amazon

If Sawant and Socialist Alternative had adopted the approach of most liberal and labor leaders to try and avoid a direct confrontation with Amazon, it’s likely Jeff Bezos’ bullying strategy and attempt to buy the city council would have succeeded. There was nothing automatic about the widespread working-class distrust toward corporate power getting organized into a coherent fightback.

In fact, most elections across the U.S. don’t feature bold working-class challenges, given the corporate domination of the two-party system. Even in Seattle, where the local Democratic Party organizations have shifted leftward under the impact of Sanders and other left challengers, this hasn’t resulted in strong working class fighters running for city council in most races.

Socialist Alternative based our electoral strategy on confidence that, if offered a fighting lead, working class and young people in Seattle were capable of defeating Amazon and big business. Crucial to this strategy was the potential for working-class pressure from below to push progressive and labor leaders off the sidelines and into a united fight with us against Seattle’s corporate establishment. Socialist Alternative members provided the Marxist backbone of this strategy. Their energy, self-sacrifice, and political skills successfully built  perhaps the most powerful grassroots election campaign in Seattle history.  

Over 1,000 volunteers and SA members have helped us knock on over 225,000 doors and make 200,000 phone calls. 7,900 working people donated to the campaign, and with a median donation of $20 we raised $570,000, smashing all previous records for both the number of donors and total amount raised. We’ll be publishing a fuller report of this historic effort soon.

The dynamic unleashed after the primary election confirmed our strategy. Candidates backed by Amazon and big business moved on to the general election in all seven council races, facing off against more progressive candidates. With the looming threat of the Chamber of Commerce engineering a wholesale takeover of City Hall, our call for maximum unity against big business rapidly gained traction among grassroots activists, exerting pressure on bigger political players.

More endorsements for Sawant, as well as Shaun Scott, began rolling in from progressive leaders and groups who had sat on the sidelines in the primary. The scandalous effort of conservative labor leaders to win Egan Orion the Labor Council’s endorsement was defeated when over 300 union members signed an open letter in protest. By the final weeks, 21 unions had endorsed Sawant – a substantial majority of the union locals who endorsed in the District 3 race. A joint event promoting a Green New Deal for Seattle was organized with Sawant, Morales, and Scott speaking, an important display of programmatic left unity that was absent in the primary.

In a major defeat for the business-backed Democratic establishment who have long-dominated city  politics, local Democratic Party groups endorsed both Shaun Scott and Kshama Sawant in September (they had already endorsed Morales in the primary). Sawant is the first independent socialist ever endorsed by Seattle’s Democrats, and this endorsement was made despite her very public calls for left Democrats, labor, and social movements to join together to build a new party for working people. This victory, the product of an energetic grassroots effort, was linked to passing resolutions condemning corporate PAC spending  through four Democratic Party organizations.

All this laid the basis for our re-election campaign to become the central driving force behind a unified response when Amazon dropped their $1 million money bomb on October 14th. Alongside the Democratic Party groups, we organized a press conference two days later outside of Amazon headquarters, followed by rally called by Amazon workers a week later.

This broke the dam. A wave of national media coverage followed. In a high profile reversal, even Lorena Gonzalez and Teresa Mosqueda – the liberal city councilmembers who had publicly called for Sawant’s defeat in the primary – felt compelled to speak at the rally against Amazon and announce their endorsement of both Sawant and Scott. A wave of other progressive Democratic Party leaders followed suit.

The  naked attempt by Jeff Bezos to buy Seattle City council backfired, but only because it met a well-prepared united front strategy to mobilize working class anger into a unifying force, pushing even reluctant labor and liberal leaders into alliance with socialists to fight big business. The role of Socialist Alternative, with our clear analysis, strategy, and a politically self-confident membership, was absolutely vital to moving these wider forces into united action.

As the wave of socialist election campaigns across the country continues to expand, the rich lessons of how we defeated Jeff Bezos in his hometown can help serious socialist organizers develop winning strategies for working class struggle everywhere.

https://www.socialistalternative.org

[semperintrepida]

The Sellout, chapter two

two: the big reveal

Kassandra sipped her coffee and surveyed the Portland skyline: the muddy river far below, Mount Hood backlit by sunrise skies as soft and pink as a kitten's tongue, and the laughably light traffic skating along I5. Roofs and trees, then trees in greater and greater numbers until they made a velvety green carpet all the way to the mountains. Portland had to be the smallest big city she'd ever lived in.

She sipped again, letting the coffee's warmth ward off the chill from the polished concrete floor beneath her feet, and she wandered away from the unbroken expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows that formed the eastern wall of her condo, back to the table where her laptop waited for her to put the finishing touches on the Yelp review she'd been dying to write since yesterday afternoon.

After visiting fifty — no, closer to a hundred — coffee shops in the month she'd lived here so far, she'd never experienced one quite like Cliffhanger Coffee. The latte she'd ordered was damn near perfect, but the coffee snob capital of the US was full of near-perfect lattes. It wasn't full of beautiful, dark-haired women with fire in their eyes who could pull espresso shots while throwing volleys of sharp, sharp words at the first sign of a threat.

Despite turning up the dials on her charm and attentiveness, Kassandra had gotten skewered almost as soon as she'd opened her mouth. After two years of living with Pacific Northwest passive aggressiveness, the woman's flat-out, in-your-face aggressiveness had hit Kassandra like the first taste of a sea breeze after years in the desert.

She'd savored every sip of that latte while walking up Belmont back to her car, and later on, she'd fallen asleep thinking about the woman's sharp words, the muscled lines of her forearms, and how they'd disappeared into blackwork tattoos that ran under the rolled-up sleeves of her flannel shirt. Trees on one arm and plants on the other, ferns giving way to some kind of vine, twisting in intricate lines on her skin...

Kassandra shook the thought away and focused on the text she'd written. Come for the delicious drinks, stay if the barista likes you... She tapped a finger against her chin in thought, then typed out one final sentence before she clicked "Post Review."

She examined her handiwork with a satisfied grin, then finished off the last of her coffee. Maybe she could squeeze in a visit to the other side of the river after her one o'clock planning meeting downtown. She picked up her phone.

Dessa answered in the middle of the first ring. "Good morning, Kassandra." She'd been Kassandra's assistant long enough to know her working hours went from seven a.m. to seven p.m. and often beyond.

"Dessa. Good morning. How's my two to four looking this afternoon?"

Quiet click-clicks as Dessa brought up her calendar. "You've got a one-on-one with Trevor Adams from two-thirty to three-thirty."

"Reschedule him to early next week."

"Consider it done."

"Any messages for me?"

"Kevin would like you to call, but he says it's not urgent."

Kassandra snorted. A CEO's not urgent merely meant right now instead of yesterday. "Coordinate a call with Lisa so I can talk to him at his earliest convenience." Lisa, his long-suffering admin assistant, who'd followed him from Microsoft to Juniper and every other stop along the way.

"It'll probably be around eight-thirty."

"That works." She drummed her fingers on the tabletop. "How're things back at the ranch?"

A sigh. "Markos has been looking for you."

Kassandra rolled her eyes. "He can make a calendar request like everyone else."

"I told him that, but you know how he is."

She did, all too well. He liked his meetings with her to be in person and off the record, like he was some big-shot politician instead of a middling marketing executive. "I'll be on site tomorrow morning. If he weasels by again, tell him he can buy me lunch."

"Will do. Anything else you need?"

"That's it for now. Thanks, Dessa."

She gave one last smirking glance at Yelp, then closed the browser tab and pulled up Outlook. The number of messages in her inbox had reached quadruple digits, and she made a mental note to spend some time cleaning it up later. She scrolled around until she found the email she wanted, then picked up her phone again. "Hi, Evelyn. It's Kassandra. Ready to start crunching those square footage numbers on the southeast flagship?"

.oOo.

A little after two o'clock, Kassandra turned her Audi R8 onto the looping ramp that led up to the Morrison Bridge, and just past the apex of the curve, she punched the gas and grinned as the big V10 began to howl. The acceleration shoved her hard into her seat, and it was like sitting in a recliner strapped to a rocket, more than making up for the fact that the car only came with an automatic transmission. No matter. If she wanted to shift gears herself, she had motorcycles for that.

She found a place to park on a side street off Belmont, slung her laptop bag over her shoulder, then backtracked a couple of blocks to the building that housed Cliffanger Coffee. The neighborhood wore its light industrial roots proudly: lots of brick and corrugated metal, and the coffeeshop's building was no exception. The ground floor units had lofted ceilings, but there were two more floors above them that looked like they'd been converted into apartments sometime in the last forty years. Likely rent controlled. Probably what had kept the owner from tearing it all down and putting up a mixed use development in its place.

A development on a street corner like this could net tens of millions.

The corner unit was occupied by a store selling overpriced furniture, and she scanned the price tags through the windows as she passed: five-hundred-dollar end tables and six-thousand-dollar couches. The store had probably been open for less than a year. She wondered what had been in its place a decade ago, when the coffee shop next door had moved in and nudged this neighborhood a little further down the path of gentrification.

A slate-colored sign bearing the words "Cliffhanger Coffee" hung over the door, the bold white lettering in a font that was clean and timeless rather than trendy, set over an angular slash that was more suggestive of a cliff than explicit.

Kassandra pushed the door open and stepped inside. Busier today, with customers dotting the interior tables, and the same three people from yesterday seated at the couches, deep in conversation. The woman — the owner, Kassandra reminded herself — was at the register, smiling as she handed a cup to a customer. At the sound of the door opening, her gaze slid from the man, to Kassandra, then back again.

The woman's smile faded as soon as the customer turned his back to her. She wore a blue and white plaid button-down with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and tight black jeans. The buckle of her belt glinted silver under the menu board's lights. "What do you want?" she asked as Kassandra walked up to the counter, her gaze as opaque as smoked glass, and Kassandra knew she wasn't really asking about a drink.

"I'll take a double shot, bone dry cappuccino, please."

The woman's eyes narrowed a fraction as Kassandra's weaponized order hit its mark. "Four dollars and thirty cents," she said flatly, slamming her fingertip into the register's touchscreen so hard its plastic casing creaked. This time, Kassandra took a good look at the woman's hands: long and slender, implying fine bones within, but her fingers were wrapped with muscles, as were her wrists and forearms, powerful lines disappearing into black foliage and vines that climbed up her arm.

That kind of muscle didn't come from pulling shots at an espresso machine — it came from training and effort. Kassandra knew it well; she wore it herself from her neck to her calves, earned it in the weight room and on the pitch, and, once everyone figured out she'd grow up to be tall instead of fast, on the basketball court. The woman had probably started young at whatever sport it was, but she was too tall and lean to be a gymnast, and no soccer player who wasn't a goalkeeper had wrists like that, and she wasn't tall enough to be a keeper anyway...

Kassandra realized she was staring, and her fingers fumbled at her wallet inside her suit jacket's pocket. It took her two tries to pull a twenty from the cash in her money clip, and she made herself take a slow breath before she pushed it across the counter. "Can you make that drink for here, please?" she asked once she'd regained her poise.

The woman tilted her head and eyed the twenty. Her look could have shattered concrete. Then the twenty disappeared into the cash drawer and a stack of coins and bills took its place. "You might as well have a seat," she said, tossing the words over her shoulder as she moved to the espresso machine.

And just like the day before, the woman's shroud of irritation fell away as soon as she focused her full attention on making the drink, her eyes lighting up with a clean, unburdened joy. This woman was the one Kassandra wanted to talk to. She wanted to ask, Does it feel the same way for you too? It was beating everyone in the paint to a rebound, or hitting a holeshot on the racetrack, that flowing perfection where everything is just so and all is right in the world. Kassandra had spent a lifetime chasing it.

One espresso shot and two full pitchers of steamed milkfoam later, the drink slid across the counter. "Bone dry," the woman said in a voice to match.

Kassandra picked up the cup, murmuring her thanks before she drifted around the perimeter of the shop. Lots of brick and exposed metal, softened by green plants. Real ones. This place would Instagram well. She sipped the drink, the hot espresso tunneling through a thick layer of fluffy foam, completely free of milk and its diluting effects. Yesterday's latte had been near-perfect, but this drink was perfection in every way, its components correctly proportioned, the shot ecstatically good. She needed to find out who the woman's coffee roaster was.

A set of shelves crammed with books occupied much of the back wall, under a small, hand-lettered sign reading take one, leave one. Past the shelves, a bulletin board hung over a small self-service bar that held carafes of cream and a variety of sweeteners. Kassandra's eye lingered on a line of brightly colored stickers running along the edge of the board: Best of Portland 2010, Best of Portland 2011, 2012, 2013... all the way to last year, 2017.

She chose a table against the wall that was mostly hidden from the counter's line of sight, pulled her laptop from her bag, sat down, and pretended to get to work.

A steady stream of customers passed through the doors of the shop, despite the doldrums of the mid-afternoon, and the thread of tension wound tight around the woman's voice began to loosen as she filled orders and chatted with customers. Once, she even laughed, low and round and rich, the sound fuming in the air like a good bourbon. Until that moment, Kassandra wasn't sure the woman was capable of it.

The shop began to empty out as the clock swept past three. Kassandra packed her laptop away and carefully set the empty cup into the bus tub under the self-service bar. She strolled over to the counter, ignoring the hostile glances from the regulars at the couches. There was a jar full of business cards next to the register she hadn't noticed before. Enter to win a ten-pack of drinks written in strong, angular lettering.

The woman turned to her and crossed her arms.

"The drink was perfect," Kassandra said.

Silence.

"I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't give it to you."

Not this way, Kassandra wanted to say. Let's not do it like this. Let's just talk. Tell me about your coffee: who grew it, where it came from, and what drew you to doing this? Because she wanted to see that bright joy return to the woman's eyes instead of the anger living there now. "You don't like me at all, do you?"

"Have you given me a reason to like you?"

"Have I given you a reason not to?" Her brows knit with real confusion. "If I've caused any offense, I'm sorry."

"You seem to think that I have to give you the time of day because you're dropping twenties on drinks."

That stung. "Consider it compensation for wasting your precious time, then." She had tried to be nice from several angles, but had bounced off the mirror finish of the woman's anger every time. Nice didn't work on everyone. She'd keep her interest professional then, and run a different play from the playbook. "I guess you really wanted that fifth star," she said, and then she reached into her laptop bag and fished out one of her business cards, and she smirked as she caught a glimpse of a siren's enigmatic smile looking out from a familiar green circle. She locked eyes with the woman and threw the card into the jar by the till. "See you later."

As she walked out the door and onto the sidewalk, she couldn't help but grin. She would have loved to see the woman's face as she read the words on the card:

Kassandra Agiadis Vice President of International Real Estate Development Starbucks Coffee Company

Chapter two of The Sellout. Continued in chapter three...

[ackb]

I used to listen to audiobooks while driving around doing errands or while the kids were in classes. These days I don’t do those things anymore, so my listening is mostly relegated to when I’m making dinner or mowing the lawn. This means I’m going through books even more slowly than usual. And as a result, sometimes I take out my phone and am greeted by the sad words “This title has been automatically returned on the due date.” 

It was on one such evening when I needed to find something quickly to listen to and came across Susan Orlean’s The Library Book. I had heard good things about it, but the description somehow didn’t really capture my interest. 

[sidenote: This is patently absurd. Reading the description now, I find the idea that I wouldn’t have found it interesting is absolutely ridiculous. If I didn’t know better, I’d bet someone a million dollars that if I went back in time I would confirm that past me would be totally into that book based on that description. There is, in fact, nothing at all in the description that doesn’t interest me. Library? check. History? check. Books? check. Fire? check. Mystery? check. I love all that shit. So why on Earth had I EVER read that description and thought to myself meh, no thanks. ?!?!? ——I’ll tell you why. Fate. I needed to experience this book in May of 2020 and somehow my brain knew it. And so anytime the book came up in conversation or in my periphery, my brain took the wheel and redirected me elsewhere. these aren’t the droids you’re looking for...]

So I beep-beep-boop checked out the audiobook from my public library on my phone and I was on my way. 

The Library Book is a love letter to libraries and the people who love them and keep them running. It’s intricate and beautiful and I adore it. It’s a great book and you should read it. 

Here’s the thing, the reason the universe wanted me to save it: The public library is what is best about us. It is a place of hospitality when the rest of the world is not. It is a small boat of sharing and giving in a rough sea of capitalism and greed. It is a tidy set of solutions, built up against problem after problem after problem. It embodies the reality that there is always more to learn, as well as the hope that we, ourselves, can grow in wisdom, knowing better to do better. 

It’s not just that during the pandemic I miss going to the library, but rather during the pandemic, I desperately long for the ethic of the public library to guide us. We are capable of pooling our resource to lift us all up. We are capable of making space for and caring for our most vulnerable within an environment we all enjoy. We are capable of figuring out how to get the things people need to them in creative ways. But it is exactly this ethic that’s missing. And that is what’s so very wrong.

I love libraries for what they say about human beings. And these days, I need the knowledge that we are a people who have libraries, and therefore all is not lost.

[bluekidlight]

Learning The Ins And Outs Of The iPhone

Using an iPhone is treasured by many, but some find it to be annoying. You may feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of applications available and tools you can use with your iPhone. Keep reading this article to get a good idea of how to get the most out of your phone.

You don't need to hit the Shift button following the end of a sentence on an iPhone. The phone automatically uses a capital letter for the next word following the space after an ending punctuation mark. You can override this feature by going to Settings, looking under General, and going to Keyboard. Locate Auto-Capitalization and turn it off.

If you are trying to clean up your iPhone screens by placing apps in folders, try placing the folder you are working on in your bottom app bar. This way, the folder stays with you no matter what page you are on. You no longer have to drag that folder from page to page as you clean up your apps.

Aviation enthusiasts will love this iPhone trick. First, you must make sure that Location Services are enabled in the phone's Settings app. Next, instruct Siri to ask Wolfram which flights are overhead. Siri will then use data from the Wolfram Alpha search engine to provide you with detailed information about any nearby flight.

If you are working in one app and want to return to an app you were previously using, take advantage of app switcher. App switcher is accessed when you tap twice on the home button. You will see all of your recently opened apps, and can easily switch from one to the other.

Experiment with scrolling while looking at webpages. You might find it easier to scroll with one finger or two, depending on what you are looking at. If boxes were used to design the webpage, you will be able to scroll through only one box if you use one finger. You'll find that using two fingers will increase the speed at which you can look through webpage content that is not visible all at once on the screen of your phone.

As a default setting, incoming messages are previewed on your iPhone's lock screen. This is something that some find convenient, but others do not like so much. You can disable this feature. Access settings, select "notifications" and then enter the "messages" option. The feature you want to disable is called Show Preview.

Your iPhone has an on-board calculator that can take all of the guesswork out of any basic math that you run into. It's available in standard form if it's held vertically, but can become a scientific calculator if it's held horizontally.

When in a call with someone, take advantage of the mute button. The mute button is located on the top left when you are in a call and will prevent the person on the other end of the line from hearing your voice. If you need to talk to someone else while on the phone, this is a great time to use this function.

Usmilewireless is providing iPhone screen repairing services in Orlando. Usmilewireless is a team of professional and experienced technicians who are serving in mobile repairing industry from many decades.

When you are scrolling down the screen viewing long list or web page on your iPhone, there is a quick way to return to the beginning. Instead of swiping over and over again to scroll back up, simply tap the bar at the top of your screen. This will take you back to the top of the page right away.

Having trouble finding a specific app over the pages and pages of your iPhone? Try using the "Search iPhone" feature. Simply click your home button once (or twice if you are off of your first screen) to get to the search feature. Then start typing the name of the app you are looking for. This also works for finding a contact, a scheduled meeting and even specific emails.

If you use your iPhone to store huge numbers of contacts, songs, email and websites, you may find it time-consuming to scroll from the end of the list to the beginning. Save time by double-tapping the clock icon at the top of the screen. This will immediately take you to the very top of the list.

If your iphone freezes completely you do have options for getting it going again. First, you can take out the battery and then replace it and give it a try after that. If that does not work you can hold down the start and menu buttons at the same time for at least 10 seconds to get it to reboot.

If it is crucial that you receive notifications on your iPhone, you can use LED flash. To use this feature, all you need to do is go to "settings," then tap on "general" and finally "accessibility." Just turn the slider on for "LED Alerts for Notifications." You will see the LED light go on the next time you receive a notification.

Your iPhone can be used to send valuable pictures to your family and/or friends. There are two different ways you can achieve this. First, save the picture and attach it to your email. Alternatively, go to Facebook and upload it for all to see.

Create your own ringtones for a truly personalized phone. The Ringtone Maker app is free of charge to use. You can make ringtones from you favorite clips of songs. Doing so is possible within seconds, and you can choose tunes appropriate to each person or number you assign each ringtone to.

You can get through contacts with your fingers, but you can do something else that does not require flicking. Put your finger right on the list. Then, you just slide up and down. You will have more control over the list, which is especially helpful if you have a large number of contacts.

You can't own an iPhone without realizing that it offers a great deal of features. But, if you have become overwhelmed by the options, you may fail to get the most use out of your device. Put the advice you have read here to good use in optimizing all that your iPhone can do for you.

[choupichoups]

👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻👻

👻- 2 or 3 sentences (lmao) from something you haven’t posted yet

Feet dragging across linoleum, Lucas opens the fridge, ignoring the cool air blasting right in his face as he stares blankly at the line of drinks available for purchase.

His hand automatically goes for some chocolate milk.

Lucas doesn’t even like chocolate milk.

But Eliott does. 

And god, he’s being so, so pathetic right now.

He shuts the door with a thud, flinching when some of the bottles rattle from the force of it, but he doesn’t wait until the rattling stops before scurrying off behind the snack aisle. The last thing he needs is a hefty bill from some dingy store for accidentally shattering their bottled drinks. 

As if his current existence isn’t sad enough, he lingers on Eliott’s favourite sour candies, but then manages to dig up a mustard seed’s dignity and heads towards the liquorice instead. 

Chocolate milk and liquorice in hand, Lucas thinks he’s equipped enough to endure a night of Netflix and Tears.

He glances down at his phone after ringing up, checking if anyone’s thought to update him on the game. Seeing the work group chat being blown up by exclamation marks and capital letters clues him in on the fact that Eliott’s team most likely won even though there’s no clear confirmation of it yet.

Lucas is a little regretful about not being there, but he doesn’t think he can stomach Eliott looking right past him when the final whistle blows. Dramatic as it may sound, it’d break Lucas to watch Eliott search the crowd for someone else as the team celebrates their win. 

He bumps into an incoming customer by the exit doors and Lucas staggers to the side, clutching his grocery bag as he struggles to get his footing back. Luckily, the other guy is quick to catch him, hands grabbing around Lucas’ arms to keep him from falling over. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed. Nothing’s going right for him today, huh. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” says a voice that is most definitely not a stranger. “Now can you explain why you weren’t at the game tonight?” 

Lucas’ head snaps up, abrupt enough to have him seeing stars. And there Eliott stands, hair wind ruffled, chest heaving as if he’d ran towards the convenience store for whatever reason. 

“What are you doing here?” Lucas stutters out, watching Eliott wipe the sweat off of his temples. “Do you, uh, I have… milk?” He holds out the chocolate milk, increasingly baffled when Eliott aggressively snatches it off his hand and pops the cap off like he’s developed a sudden vendetta against it. 

Eliott gulps down about a third of the drink before repeating, “Where were you?”

“Working?” Lucas is so confused right now. But hey, at least he’s more confused than sad at this point. He calls that progress. 

“Thought you said you’d never miss a game?” Eliott insists, finishing up the last bit of the milk before crumpling the carton in his fist. “All that bullshit about a lucky charm is really just bullshit then?”

Whoa, why is he so angry? 

“Eliott what— there’s no—” Lucas very vividly remembers Eliott rejecting his lucky charm spiel. “Did you guys lose? Is that what it is?” He can’t think of anything else that would have Eliott’s proverbial panties in a twist. 

“... No, we won.”

Lucas opens his mouth, about to take another guess, when Eliott pulls a hedgehog keychain out of his pocket, dangling the smiling little guy in front of Lucas’ reddening face. 

“Uh, where did you get that?” He tries to catch the trinket with both hands, slapping them together as if going for a mosquito, but Eliott raises it out of reach. “Give it.”

“No.”

Tears gather at the corners of Lucas’ eyes, frustration feeding his heartbreak to new heights. He doesn’t understand what Eliott’s playing at, repeatedly rejecting him, entertaining a new potential girlfriend, and then turning around and poking fun at Lucas’ admittedly lame attempts to get him back. Today hasn’t been kind enough for Lucas to deal with any more of this fuckery. 

He sighs, exercising the secret trick he likes to call blinking back the fucking tears, and asks instead of bawling, “Shouldn’t you be at the after party?” 

“No, I didn’t want to go.” Eliott shuffles his feet, lowering his arm as he closes his fingers around Lucas’ hedgehog keychain. “We barely won. The other team was only two points behind.” 

Lucas stares at him, wondering what he’s supposed to do with that information. And then it dawns on him that Eliott is actually implying their almost loss is due to Lucas’ absence and that’s just—

“Well, you still won so.” Lucas grabs his keychain back the moment he sees Eliott’s hold on it go slack. “You don’t need this.” Or me. ���The magic wore off.” 

He turns around and starts walking home without waiting for a response, aiming to get away so he could quit delaying the pity party waiting for him back at his apartment. 

Eliott’s footsteps hurry to follow him and Lucas just about screams. 

[angelofthequeers]

Ladybug and Reine Nuit: Chapter 17

Dark Cupid I

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

I’m still salty that Kagami’s canon outfit is a literal school uniform because…she’s Japanese?

And Chloé seems pretty stagnant now but that’s because there’s not much pushing her to change. She’s still under the delusion that Adrien will eventually come back to her and she hasn’t hit rock bottom…yet.

@miraculousl4dybug​ @livinthebilife​ tagged as requested :)

Check out my Ko-fi for writing commissions!

Chapter 16 | Chapter 18

“In most fairy tales, the prince breaks the spell by kissing the princess,” Ms Bustier says. “Can anyone tell us why?”

“Because only love can conquer hate!” Rose sighs. Although Adrien’s only half-listening to the lesson, his brain demonstrates its useful skill from years of home-schooling by still absorbing what’s being said while his focus remains on the terrifying project in front of him: a love letter. More specifically, a love poem. For Marinette.

Wait, what is he even thinking? This is a terrible idea! He’s going to utterly fail, and Marinette’s going to hate it, and their friendship will be over with a capital O, and they’ll never run away to an island far away from everything and live off nothing but fruit and get married and have two kids – or maybe three, depending on what Marinette wants – and a little pet hamster –

“Adrien, I hope what you’re writing has to do with my lesson.” Ms Bustier’s voice jolts him out of his panicked daze. “Can you tell me what I just said?”

“That's why in most fairy tales, the prince breaks the spell by kissing the princess because only love conquers hate,” Adrien rattles off automatically.

“Very good!” Ms Bustier says just as the bell rings. The students immediately start packing up, so she calls out their homework for the night before they can start swarming to leave. “And Happy Valentine’s Day, everybody!”

Adrien fumbles to pull a small box out of his pocket with trembling fingers as he, Marinette, Nino, and Alya emerge into the crowded courtyard. This is it. Even if he can’t go through with the poem, he can do this, right? This doesn’t require words –

“You got this for moi, Adrikins?” Chloé snatches the box from him and gives an exaggerated gasp when she opens it to reveal a small golden ring with a ruby set in the centre. “Oh, you shouldn’t have! I love you too!”

“I didn’t –”

“I’m flattered!” Chloé slides the ring onto her finger and holds it up to show everyone who’s stopped to investigate the noise. “I’ll be expecting you to pick me up tonight, Adrikins! Mwah!” She gives him a wet kiss on the cheek and saunters off, while girls everywhere rush after her, some of them even crying.

“But that’s not…for you…” Adrien sighs and looks down.

“Uh, is that thievery?” Nino said. “Dude, I’m pretty sure she robbed you.”

“Oooh, who was it for?” Alya says, nudging Adrien. “Who’s the lucky lady who’s caught Adrien’s eye?” The smirk on her face strikes fear into Adrien’s very soul. There’s no way Alya doesn’t know who he’s crushing on. No way at all.

“Alya, leave him alone,” Marinette chastises half-heartedly.

“Hey, my dad got akumatised two days ago because Kim thought he could run faster than a panther,” Alya says. “It’s either this or I sulk and ruin everyone’s day.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Adrien mumbles. “She wouldn’t be my Valentine anyway.”

“That’s a load of rubbish, Adrien Agreste!” Marinette snaps with her hands on her hips. “You’re a total dork, and you’re cute, and you’re really sweet, and anyone would be lucky to have you!”

Blood rushes to Adrien’s cheeks at Marinette’s vehement defence of him, especially with her beautiful face set in a scowl like an avenging angel from above. “Um – manks, Thari – I mean…thanks, Marinette.”

“She’s right, you know,” says a voice from behind her. Marinette steps aside to let Kagami walk next to her as they descend the school steps. “You need to be surer in yourself, Adrien. If you’re uncertain in yourself, how do you expect anyone else to be certain in you?”

Adrien sighs. “Thanks, Kagami. But she’s way out of my league.”

“Of course she is, if you let brats like that steal right from the palm of your hand.” Kagami jabs her thumb over at Chloé, who’s showing off “her” ring to a crowd of envious girls. Sabrina, who’s passing by with Alix and Nathaniel, blinks at Chloé and jumps away on autopilot. Alix and Nathaniel immediately sling their arms around her comfortingly and escort her away.

Poor Sabrina. Untangling herself from Chloé is a daily struggle for her, especially since she can’t even look at Chloé without starting to panic, no doubt triggered by her ordeal with Antibug. Her new style, divorced from her old one while still retaining her nerdy nature, is just one way she’s working on that, such as the white blouse and lilac cardigan she’s wearing with her royal blue plaid skirt today. The only reason she hasn’t moved to another class is because Alix and Nathaniel are the only people who seem to be willing to befriend Chloé’s Best Friend; even the other classes are well aware of Chloé Bourgeois and her reign of terror.

Adrien shakes himself out of his thoughts for the second time that day as they draw level with his car, where his bodyguard holds the back door open for him.

“Bye, dude,” Nino says, holding his hand out for a fist bump. Adrien bumps it and gets into his car, then rolls down his window to wave at his friends until his bodyguard drives off.

.

“So, Mari, who’s your friend?” Alya says with a nod at Kagami, trying to act like she’s never seen the girl before in her life. Even though she technically has. But no one’s supposed to know that she’s Reine Nuit. And Kagami’s wearing a different outfit to the fencing uniform she’d worn the first time Alya had seen her: a red sweater over a white collared button-up, both elbow-length, tucked into a black skirt, with black tights and red sneakers.

“Oh!” Marinette facepalms. “Alya, Nino, this is Kagami. We met her when she showed up to the fencing tryouts.”

“And got akumatised,” Kagami mutters.

“No sweat, dude,” Nino says. “I got akumatised too ‘cause Adrien’s dad wouldn’t let me throw him a party. It’s that dick Hawkmoth’s fault, not yours.”

Kagami frowns at Nino, as though she’s studying him in a new light.

“This is my best friend Alya,” Marinette says, gesturing to Alya. “And this is Adrien’s best friend Nino. Not that he’s not our friend, of course!”

“Operation Valentine’s Day is commencing!” Max announces from nearby. Alya, Marinette, Nino, and Kagami slow their pace to listen in. “According to my extensive research and cross-referencing of online shopping sites, this particular jewel –” He produces a heart-shaped box from behind his back and offers it to Kim, who opens it, “– was ranked highest in popularity.”

“That's perfect, Max!” Kim says. “I better hit a home run with this one. Love is like baseball, right? You gotta have a strategy or you'll strike out. But if you aim right, you'll hit it out of the ball park. Score!”

Alya lights up at this major crush scoop, and she drags Marinette over to the boys. Nino and Kagami exchange glances and follow them.

“Oh, yes, Kim, lovely metaphor,” Max says absently.

“Meta-who?” Kim says, looking inside the box again.

“Ooh, sparkly!” Alya pulls Kim’s hands down to see what’s inside the box, and she catches a glimpse of a golden heart-shaped brooch inlaid with sapphires. “Is that for moi? You know, to make up for getting my dad akumatised?”

“Negative, Alya,” Max says. “The recipient of this gem has already been determined. It’s –”

Kim grabs Max around the neck and slaps a palm over his mouth. “Shh!” the jock hisses. “Keep it on the down-low!”

“Omg! Kim’s got a major crush!” Alya giggles, giddy with Valentine’s-Day-by-proxy fever. Well, at least she seems to have moved past the Animan incident, if she’s not wanting to strangle Kim now. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“I don’t think that’s exactly appropriate to ask if he’s said he doesn’t want to disclose that information,” Kagami says. Kim shoots her a grateful look.

“Fine, fine,” Alya says. “I won’t pry.”

“It’s awesome, dude!” Nino says. “She’s gonna love it.”

“Technically, she's still gotta accept it,” Kim says, scratching the back of his head. His eyes widen. “What if she says no?”

“She won’t, Kim!” Marinette says, pumping her fist. “Don’t hold back! Go for it! No regrets!”

Kim grins and high-fives Max. “Operation Valentine’s Day is underway!” He starts jogging on the spot, while Max pulls out a map of the area.

“Her route is highlighted here in yellow, yours in red,” Max recites. “If you run at ten miles per hour, you're going to gain a four-and-a-half-minute advance on her. Halt and wait here facing northwest – the third most romantic spot in Paris.”

Alya and Marinette grin and shoot Kim encouraging thumbs-up.

“Go on, dude!” Nino says. “Knock her over!”

“Thanks, guys!” Kim says before sprinting away.

“Come on!” Alya says to Kagami and Nino. “I bet we can get Marinette’s papa to sneak us some of their Valentine’s Day treats!”

“I don’t know…” Kagami says. “I should have called my driver minutes ago.”

“Dude, Adrien’s getting pushed around by his schedule enough,” Nino says. “Fight the system!”

Alya and Marinette raise their eyebrows at him. Kagami takes a deep breath, then types a message on her phone.

“I told my driver to wait an hour before picking me up, so that I can spend time with Adrien and develop our friendship. My mother will be displeased, but I’ll offer her extra training to compensate for this. I just hope she doesn’t realise that I’m lying.”

“Hey, rich kids gotta stick together, right?” Alya teases. Kagami, who looks a little pale, just raises an eyebrow at her.

“Yay!” Marinette hugs Kagami. “Come on! If we hurry, we’ll make it before Papa sells all the treats!”

As they’re sprinting down a street and weaving between shoppers, Marinette crashes into someone and shrieks as they both lose their balance. Acting on superhero reflexes, Alya grabs Marinette and keeps her on her feet, while Kagami catches the other person.

“Adrien?” she says as the person groans. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be at home?”

“I –” Adrien stuffs something into his bag and grins sheepishly. “Nothing! I just…wanted to get out of the car…”

“You’re a horrible liar, Agreste,” Kagami says. “Although at least I’m technically not lying now.”

Just then, everyone’s phones except for Kagami’s buzz, and Alya gasps when she’s fished hers out and sees what Chloé’s sent them.

“That witch!” she hisses, angling her phone so that Kagami can see the picture of Kim kneeling and covered in trash.

“Nothing I say is even doing anything!” Adrien’s shoulders slump. “I thought she really valued our friendship enough to want to become a better person. Maybe if I give a little and talk to her to nudge her –”

“Nope,” Alya says immediately. “That’s what she wants. You give her an inch, she’ll take a mile.”

“It’s not your responsibility to make her change, dude,” Nino agrees.

“Some people just won’t change,” Kagami says. “You just need to –” Her eyes widen. “Look out!”

Alya has just enough time to register the winged red and black figure behind Adrien before they’re nocking an arrow to their bow and shooting straight at Marinette. Before a wide-eyed Marinette can so much as blink in reaction, Adrien’s throwing himself in front of her with his arms out, taking the arrow straight to his chest.

“Adrien!” Marinette gasps as he doubles over, while the arrow dissolves. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? What did he do to you?”

“I – I –” Adrien straightens up and rips himself free of Marinette’s grasp. His lips, curved in a snarl, are now pitch black. “I loathe you, Marinette! Everyone thinks you’re such a perfect princess!” He grins cruelly at Kagami. “We both know I won that point, Kagami. Marinette’s just too sickeningly soft to stand by her judgement. Always afraid to hurt other people like the disgusting angel she is!”

“Come on, dude!” Nino grabs Marinette’s arm and drags her out of the way of another arrow. “We gotta get out of here!”

“But what about Adrien?” Marinette protests. Kagami and Alya grab her other arm.

“Nothing we can do for him right now,” Alya says. “We just gotta wait for Ladybug and Reine Nuit to show up!”

Her words seem to pierce through Marinette’s daze like one of the akuma’s arrows, because Marinette shakes her head and flees the scene with her friends, ducking and darting around the screaming passers-by. A good distance away, Alya ‘accidentally’ loses her grip on Marinette and lets herself get sucked into the crowd, pretending she doesn’t hear her friends’ cries. Once she’s able to extract herself from the panicking people, she darts down an alleyway and cries, “Plagg, claws out!”

As Reine Nuit, she leaps out and elbows her way through the crowd back to where the akuma had been, but he’s nowhere in sight. Thankfully, an angel of an entirely different kind lands next to her and says, “It’s Kim! Hawkmoth must have gotten him after Chloé did that.”

“I wish I could slap her and get away with it,” Reine Nuit huffs, crossing her arms.

“Ladybug! Reine Nuit!” Nino skids to a halt, with Kagami following at a more dignified pace. “Marinette and Alya! We lost ‘em – they could be –”

“Marinette’s safe,” Ladybug says quickly. “I got her out of here. She told me that it’s Kim and the akuma has to be in the pin she saw – the one he wanted to give to Chloé.”

Of course! “Alya’s safe too,” Reine Nuit says. “Pulled her out of the way just in time. You guys need to get somewhere safe. Angel bug and I have to…” She shudders. “Protect Chloé.”

“That’s the spirit!” Ladybug says cheerfully with a wide, plastic smile. “Let’s go!”

They bound towards Le Grand Paris, praying that they won’t be too late – although in Reine Nuit’s case at least, it’s more because it’ll be a pain to predict where he’s going once he’s got his revenge on Chloé. They arrive just in time; Chloé’s about to enter the hotel, and Kim is nearby with an arrow ready. Just as he’s about to shoot, Ladybug catches his wrist with her yo-yo and yanks his aim off.

“Ladybug!” he snarls, whirling to face them on their rooftop. Chloé screams and runs away down the street.

“Stop it, Kim!” Ladybug says.

“I’m not Kim! I’m Dark Cupid, and I’ll never stop! If I can’t have love, then no one can!”

“Okay, Dark Cupid, I get it.” Ladybug holds her hands up placatingly. “Chloé totally burned you. But that doesn't mean you have to take it out on all of Paris!”

“Oh, yes I do! I won't stop until everyone's heart is crushed. Say adios to your loved ones. From now on, you'll hate them!”

Dark Cupid shoots arrow after arrow at Ladybug and Reine Nuit, who use their yo-yo and staff to deflect them. But they can’t win like this; they’re on the defensive, and they can’t stay like this forever. All it’ll take is one arrow to slip through their guard.

It happens almost in slow motion. Just as Dark Cupid fires another arrow, Ladybug slips and loses her footing, throwing her yo-yo at a chimney to stop herself from falling off the roof. But this lets the arrow strike her directly in the centre of her back.

“Ladybug!” Reine Nuit dodges another arrow and throws herself down next to Ladybug, whose entire body is tense and trembling. “Are you okay?”

“Reine Nuit,” Ladybug gasps. She looks up, her lips now jet-black, and all the tension melts out of her body. “I hate you!”

“Hey, snap out of it!” Reine Nuit tries to shake her partner’s shoulders, but Ladybug slaps her across the face and then straddles her to keep her pinned. Reine Nuit struggles to stop her body from tingling and flushing. Okay, so she’s had fantasies of being pinned by Ladybug, but not like this.

“You’re the worst partner I could’ve asked for, ditzy kitty!” Ladybug snarls. “What good are you? What, you can pop a Cataclysm or two? I could’ve gotten by perfectly well without your little power!” She smirks. “But you can’t do a thing without my powers, can you? You’re useless!”

Sorry about this, Reine Nuit thinks. She forces her baton under Ladybug’s stomach, then extends it to send Ladybug flying along the rooftop. Before the brainwashed hero can recover, Reine Nuit leaps off the roof and takes off down the street, ducking for cover to try and throw Ladybug and Dark Cupid off her trail if they follow her. It’s not until she’s a few blocks away that she finally allows herself to sag against a brick wall, panting and trying to resist the urge to thump the back of her head on the wall repeatedly.

Great. Ladybug’s gone. And she’s the only one who can purify the akuma. What is Reine Nuit going to do? Ladybug had been right when she’d said that Reine Nuit is useless without her.

Snap out of it! Reine Nuit shakes her head. Save Ladybug now, mope later. She’s a hero. So, she has to act like one.

[buckleyy--diazz]

Here's some very short and heavily unedited Narry! Enjoy xx

°•°•°•°

Niall fluffed his pillow and Niall got into his bed and sat next to Harry, his back against the headboard of their bed. Harry was reading so Niall took his phone amd started scrolling aimlessly through his Twitter mentions even if Harry had told him many times it wasn't healthy and he should stop doing it. Harry hated social media but Niall loved knowing what his fans were thinking about him. He was scrolling and he spotted a Tweet full of capital letters and exclamation point, most of it was completely incoherent until he kept scrolling and saw a bery blurry picture of himself and Harry at the Eagles concert.

They were getting reckless but after so many years they were also tired of hiding, it was getting difficult and it was also tiring. There was many shows they wanted to enjoy together but they had to go seperatly to avoid reunion rumors. It was mostly what they wanted to avoid. They didn't care if people knee they were together but they were tired of reunion rumors when they knew full well it wouldn't happen anytime soon. They both had knew album coming soon, another tour to plan. Same for Louis and Liam who didn't have an album out yet. It wasn't just the right time for any of them.

Niall chuckled when he saw the pic and reaction. He had spotted the girl taking the picture and for a moment he had contemplated the idea of sending Bas asking her to delete it but it would have been an asshole moves, they were in a public place after all. Harry put his book against his chest and turned his head to look at Niall a small smirk on his lips. He knew full well what Niall was doing even if he wasn't approving.

"What are you laughing at?"

"We made our way to Twitter. Fans are losing their minds," laughed Niall and Harry shook his head.

"What are they saying?"

"It's mostly incoherent stuff."

Harry closed his book and put it on the nightstand and shuffled closer to Niall. Automatically, Niall lifted his arm and wrapped it around Harry's shoulders.

"Show me?"

"You want to look at social media?"

Niall pressed a kiss on top of Harry's head and he resumed his scrolling through Twitter for a while in silence.

"Wanna take a look at Tumblr?"

Harry looked up at Niall a grimace on his lips.

"C'mon pet, it'll be fun."

Harry nodded and looked at Niall log into his old account he had always kept active so he could stalk from time to time. It was the same thing on Tumblr, mostly capital letters mixed with a lot of exclamation point and crying emojis.

"They are really onto us," said Harry and Niall chuckled.

"After going out in the Spice Girls hoodie they really started to connect stuff together. Our fans are smart," replied Niall.

"They are. I'm tired of hiding."

"Me too."

"Want to give them something to talk about?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Kiss me and take a selfie?"

"You, Harry Styles wants to take a selfie?"

"One won't kill me."

"C'mere," said Niall as he closed the gap between their mouth and took the picture.

"Now what?"

"Instagram?"

Niall nodded and uploaded the picture. They effectively broke the internet. They spent the rest of the night scrolling through the thousands of comments under the picture. Niall felt great, they wouldn't have to hide anymore and it was the best feeling in the world. After being with Harry for so long, the break up and the makeup everything was finally falling into place.

[florbexter]

The F in Fake stands for Love

Part 7

“Are those macarons?”

Can looked down and saw that he still had the bag with the last croissant in one hand and the box with the macarons in the other. Amth, a fellow football teammate, stood in front of him and Can had no idea how he had made it to the lecture and what it had been about.

“Yeah, macarons… you want one?”, he asked but pulled his hand back the moment Amth wanted to take one. “But not the strawberry ones.” Tin had said they were his favourite and he bought the box so it would be unfair to not give him the remaining one. Which, again, made him think about the scene in the car and he was torn between a shiver and goosebumps. When he moved his head he had the feeling to catch a whiff of Tin’s smell as if he had imprinted himself on him in the car.

It messed with his head and he had the urge to turn around and see if Tin stood in the door to the classroom and looked at him. What exactly had happened back in the car? Had Tin flirted with him? That couldn’t be right… nobody had been around to see them being fake-boyfriends so why would he...

“Nothing about you is simple,” he had said. What did that mean? He was simple. That what made him Can. He wasn’t complicated, he had no secrets… oh, yeah, that was wrong wasn’t it?

He was one of the last to leave the classroom and wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He didn’t remember his timetable… what time was it anyway?

His cellphone vibrated and on the cracked screen, he saw a message from Tin. Figures, he thought. The internet just worked sporadically most of the time but Tin’s messages went through.

“Don’t forget our lunch date. xo.”

Can blinked and his eyes traced the shapes and forms of xo. That didn’t mean what he thought it meant, right?

He groaned and put the phone back in his pocket. He wasn’t… he… he wasn’t equipped for stuff like that, as if they were in one of the drama shows his mum loved so much. He stomped with one food and wanted to start a string of whining, but in the distance, he saw a familiar face and without thinking he yelled: “P`TYPE!”

His senior startled and Can saw that for a moment he contemplated to run away, but he didn’t. Can liked him for that. He jogged up to him.

“N’Can, I’m sorry but I’m not able to feed you today. Moreover, it’s not lunchtime, you can endure until then.”

“I’m not hungry P’Type!”, Can said and pouted. Which, strangely was true. He remembered the croissant and held the bag up for P’Types inspection.

“I need your advice. I have one croissant if you want.”

P’Type frowned at him and looked behind Can as if he wanted to make sure he wasn’t pranked. Can understood him. Never had Can provided food for others. Can remembered to do a wai and did another for good measure.

“Please! Please, please, please. I need your help. P’Type!”

“Fine! You don’t have to scream in my face. Come on, let us sit outside.”

P’Type had snatched the bag out of his hands so Can pouted a little bit. At least he still had the macarons.

Can had been, from the first moment he had met him, convinced that P’Type had the answers to almost every question. So it was only logical to go to him when he didn’t know what to do.

“So… what do you need my help for?” P’Type asked and took a huge bite out of the croissant as if he wanted to make a point. Can fiddled with his fingers and wasn’t sure how to begin. P’Type scrutinized him.

“Is this about your fake-boyfriend?”

Can spluttered and jumped up. “How… this is… I’m… not… lies!!!!” P’Type just rolled his eyes.

“I’m not sure how you thought people would believe you,” he stopped and frowned. “Or how you thought I would believe you? I’m not surprised about Ai No, to be honest, but deeply disappointed in Champ.”

Can sat back down. “Why didn’t you say something?”, he asked.

P’Type just shrugged and devoured the rest of the croissant. “It’s not my place I thought. You’re normally not someone who lies so I thought you maybe had a reason.”

Can wanted to say something but P’Type interrupted him: “How Champ fell for your lie is still a mystery to me, we know you, he knows you! As if it isn’t strange that we didn’t witness your whole falling in love part… how?”

“Could we focus back on me, please?”, Can asked and P’Type blinked at him as if he had to shook himself out of his disappointment over P’Champs gullibility.

“Yeah, sure, sorry. Tell me.”

And Can sighed, and took a deep breath and told him. About the pictures in Ai Pete’s phone, his lie, that Tin had the audacity to come back from England. That he was suspicious of Ae’s intentions towards Ai Pete and how he blackmailed him to be fake-boyfriends for two more weeks.

“Wow,” P’Type said at the end of Can’s ramble and methodically smoothed the crinkles out of the croissant bag. “That is quite a development.”

“What should I do?”, Can asked.

“You have to decide first if you really care about Tin telling everyone about your fake-relationship or if you’re freaking out because you want to kiss him.”

Can gaped at P’Type. No… no, he didn’t want to kiss Tin! Tin had planted those thoughts inside his head because he had pulled that stunt in the car. Can had never and would never want to kiss Tin! Maybe other people wanted to kiss Tin because - objectively - he was handsome and smelled nice and why would you kiss someone who you didn’t find attractive and smelled bad? That would be stupid and he wasn’t stupid and… wait… what?

“I don’t want to kiss Tin!”, he said out loud to make P’Type understand. Meanwhile, P’Type had folded the bag in a tiny little square.

“Believe me, you want.”

“I don’t really know him! He’s rude, he blackmails me… how could you think!” Can had to stop because he had started to breathe heavily and needed time to not hyperventilate.

P’Type patted him on the arm in a very condescending way.

“There are no rules, you know? You’re allowed to want to kiss someone after you met them, or after you knew them all your life. You’re allowed to crush on someone you met for only a minute or your whole lifetime. You can fall out of love as quickly as falling in love. There’re no rules.”

Can just stared at P’Type. “You stole his photos because you’re attracted to him. This whole blackmail thing is a huge mess and still… you’re allowed to like him despite that. And if you really think that it would be that big of a deal if Tin would tell everyone about your fake-relationship… there are more ‘scandals’ happening at the university than I’m comfortable with. I promise you no one would care. You two should go back on even ground. Ask him if he really wants to ‘investigate’ Ae’s and Pete’s relationship or if he has other motives.”

“Other motives?”

“You think you’re the only one making stupid decisions when being cornered? Or when you thought there are no other options? Get this whole blackmail thing out of the way and I would advise communicating but If you have the urge to run away for some time by all means…”

P’Type looked up and wanted to hit himself. Can had a dazed look on his face and P’Type knew he had unloaded too much on him way too soon. He should have just fed the guy. With a glance to his watch, he saw that he had to go to his next lecture. He felt a bit bad leaving Can like this, all alone and lost.

“You have some thinking to do… And, actually, I can’t really tell you how you feel or how you should feel. Or who you want to kiss. That’s your decision. Just… stop the blackmailing or whatever you two are doing, okay?”

Can nodded, but it seemed like an automatic response. P’Type patted his head because Can looked like a lost puppy.

“See you,” he said and Can waved half-heartily at him. He looked back before he turned around a corner and Can still sat on the bench and looked at his box of macarons.

++

Can had given up on his normal schedule for the day. He prayed his mum wouldn’t find out, but he wouldn’t be able to concentrate in the classes anyway, so… the library was not very occupied at this time of the day just some haggard looking grad students mumbling to themselves.

He had thought to talk to P’Type would clear everything up but his thoughts were a mess and he couldn’t concentrate. Which was why he was in the library and dumped every thought on a piece of paper.

I don’t want to kiss Tin, he wrote on the top of it. Because Tin was rude, and didn’t stay in England, and because he didn’t follow the rule of enough distance between their bodies. And the blackmailing thing. He couldn’t forget that, he thought and wrote it on the paper in capital letters.

P’Type had said he should stop the blackmailing. And when Can really, really, really thought about it then he had to admit that he didn’t care what the IC faculty would think about him. He didn’t know anybody there… expect Ai Pete, but he was an honourable Thai Program, so he didn’t count. P’Champ would roast him endlessly… but that was nothing new. If it wouldn’t be Can it would be someone else… so he took one for the team. Also, if he was brutally honest with himself… he wouldn’t have been able to last the whole two weeks. He would have screwed up, either because of embarrassment or for prattling away. He wasn’t a good actor, telling the boys that Tin was his boyfriend had been the first deliberate lie he had ever told…

A letter, a letter would be a good idea. Can wasn’t always sufficient enough verbally so he could write a letter and explain to Tin that their arrangement was null and void and he could kiss his… someone put a stack of books on the table with a loud thump.

++

The IC parking lot was deserted, nevertheless, Can had the urge to tip-toe to Tin’s car. Which would make him look like he wanted to steal the car he realized… He pinned the letter between the windscreen and the wiper with care because the car was a beauty and shouldn’t be scratched and when he stood back he was pleased with the result. It shouldn’t fly away and there was no scratch on the car and…

“Are you serious?”

Can turned around and squeaked. He may have even flailed a little bit.

Tin looked at him but there was no frown on his face. It was strangely blank and only his eyes seemed to convey an emotion. He was angry.

Can felt a huge lump in his throat and swore internally. Why was he the unlucky one in this universe? He pointed at the letter.

“I wrote you something, you should… read it… yeah! Bye!”

He didn’t get far. Can was still insistent about the fact that Tin wasn’t that much taller than him, but he had some really long legs and moved like lightning. Can groaned at the hand around his upper arm.

“You’re staying here.” Tin said and Can heard a weird vibration in his tone. He was dragged back to the car and Tin pulled the letter off with his free hand. Can felt like a wet towel hanging off Tin’s arm and he squirmed.

Tin shushed him.

Heat flushed his face while Tin read the letter and why hadn’t he memorized Tin’s timetable?

“Your grammar is appalling,” Tin said and Can tried getting off his hold again. Tin’s hand was unforgiving and why was a rich spoiled kid so strong?

“Just let me goooo,” he whined. Why was it only him who got humiliated all the time? What did he do to deserve this kind of karma?

“You break up our fake-relationship with a letter? How pathetic can you be?”

Can spluttered. “Your reading this letter wrong! I’m telling you off!! Off!! This is about me no longer bowing down to your paranoid and weird stalking of Ai Pete’s and Ae’s relationship.”

“With very bad handwriting,” Tin mumbled and didn’t he get the point?

“This is not what you should be focusing on you asshole! I’ll no longer be blackmailed by you, you hear me?”

Tin let go of him and Can stumbled backwards. The spot on his upper arm hurt a little bit and he stroked it with a frown. Tin seemed to read the letter again and folded it in half afterwards. Can wasn’t sure but he didn’t look angry anymore… disappointed? The lump in his throat grew which was weird. He shouldn’t be the one feeling guilty.

Tin looked at him as if he was surprised he was still there. He waved with the letter.

“I get it… just forget about everything.” Tin was about to get into the car and Can felt panic rise up in him. This wasn’t what he wanted, he realized. But he had no idea what he really wanted and…

He remembered P’Type words and surged forward.

“Wait,” he said and Tin turned around and flinched because Can was suddenly in his space. Can thoughts didn’t make sense to him, but that was normal so he just did what his instinct told him. He grabbed Tin’s face and kissed him. It wasn’t a very long or, he thought, a good kiss and their lips weren’t perfectly lined up, but it counted.

His heart pounded so hard it kind of hurt and he hastily stepped back after a few seconds. Tin stared at him and Can wasn’t sure what his face meant. Maybe he had hated the kiss or wanted to laugh at him so Can held his head up high and tried to look as confident as possible.

“You got my first kiss… we’re even now.” His voice sounded scratchy and rough and foreign. He ran away.

[markmarcus]

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