A customer wanted to return a reeeeeaaaaally old product yesterday.
TL;DR: Older customer wanted to return a very old product that doesn’t exist anymore and we refused.
Our return policy is pretty chill. As long as you can prove you bought it in one of our stores (it had our price sticker on it, or we can track your receipt or you have it, or it’s our brand) we can refund you for it.
I’ve been working here for 2 and a half years and I can count in one hand the number of times we refused to refund a customer. We sometimes let people return diapers that they didn’t buy in one of our stores if they want to get the same type of diaper only a different size.
Yesterday came in a woman with two packages of maxi pads.
She wanted to return them and get a refund.
They were REALLY old. The price sticker was ours, but of at least a decade ago. It said “8.99” and that sort of pricing had been outlawed several years ago because in my country our smallest coin is of 0.10 of our currency.
If the total comes to an uneven number and the customer wants to pay in cash, the sum gets automatically rounded up or down by the computer (Our computers always round down).
Also, that item hasn’t even existed in any store here in years.
I tell her that the item is really old and she says that she bought it a few months ago in our store in the center of town.
I told her I’d have to ask the managers, mainly to avoid arguing with her and having to refund her in any case after the argument.
I went to the back, took a picture of the items with the price stickers, sent it to the managers’ group and had a good laugh with the managers bc obviously this wasn’t refundable.
I returned and explained that I asked both the manager and the store owner and they said that bc it was so old and we haven’t stocked or sold this item in years and the company stopped manufacturing it, that I couldn’t refund her.
She said that maybe because our store was new that I didn’t know what it was.
I told her that I would go with her to the feminine hygiene aisle and then to the storage in the back, and then to all the other stores in the city (there are 3 more besides ours) and do the same and if she found this item anywhere that I’d pay her back for them myself.
She said something like, “you’re nor kidding, huh?”
I said no, sorry and wished her a good day.
Afterwards I called the manager to ask him something else and we laughed about this. He said he was going to send that picture to the store managers’ group.
Hey all! I dunno how many followers I actually factually have. Don’t really post much, I’m quite the lurker meself. But Gishwhes, that’s the Greatest International Scavenger Hunt The World Has Ever Seen, which I am involved in, has a method of drawing folks out of their shell.
That being said,
I need to make a new friend in a very small country. Talking, one of the 10 smallest countries in the world.
If you are from the Maldives, or Lichtenstein, please message me, and you too can be a part of this awesome hunt, and I promise I’m a good friend. Just need you to carry out a silly simple mission. Or if you know someone who is and can connect me!
Same goes for
St. Kits and Nevis
Je parle français si c'est plus facile á communiqué
Chani of team Shenanstigators
Love from the hot lands of the American west coast
You’re a journalistic correspondent for your home country’s consulate building. You were to spend the next few months with the princes of seven different countries. However, when Prince Taehyung approaches you with an offer of marriage you don’t know if you can refuse. He wants out of an arranged marriage and you want the inside scoop. You aren’t sure as the marriage goes on, that Taehyung is truly the man you thought he was.
Pairing: Taehyung x Reader x Yoongi.
Word Count 3.1k
You smoothed out the emerald silk of your dress. You took several deep breaths, one hand resting on your abdomen, and the other hand gently adjusting your hair. Was this appropriate? Was it too much? Too little? You weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to look at the lavish parties. You looked over yourself in the mirror completely second guessing yourself. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t go to this party and face them. The Crown Princes.
You weighed the pros and cons of not going. Pro: You wouldn’t make a fool out of yourself. Con: You would almost certainly lose your job as a journalistic correspondent for said crown. Which most certainly could not happen. Taking in a sharp breath, you shook your head and departed from the mirror, opening the door to your apartment and heading out to the town car sent for you. You lifted your dress over your ankles as to not let it touch the wet pavement, while the chauffeur held an umbrella over your head. You said thank you to hi, and he sent you a kind smile. He did not often get thanked for all he did. You put your seatbelt on and thought about what tonight would entail. You wondered if the Crown Princes would be wearing their traditional royal garments. The almost military style clothes adorned with the badges of their home countries. You more than ogled at them. There were seven of them how could you not?
Prince Yoongi—who hailed from Trael; he was a bit aloof. Tended to almost look bored at these events. He liked to watch from the sidelines and when he was forced to engage in conversation typically only gave one word answers. His voice was gruff and the only time you had seen him crack a smile was when Prince Namjoon leaned in to lowly comment on something they had in common. Though, you never knew just what they were talking about. His hair was a soft black color, his hands were large and he looked dashing in red which was his country’s color.
Speaking of Prince Namjoon, who was from Asmon, was a walking wrecking ball. He was clumsy but kind. He always stood by you during these events, sat by you at dinner. He was the one who was most familiar with the customs of your home country. He made you feel at ease. Namjoon was the closest thing to a brother you had. His hair was brown in color, he sported his country’s home colors of purple and gold very well. Namjoon spent a lot of time with Prince Jin.
Prince Jin, born in Pacila typically was the object of affections from the ladies of the court. Jin was the oldest prince and one of the most handsome. Though, he never seemed that interested in the court ladies’ advances or their sighs and swoons. He preferred to make others laugh, to sit with Namjoon and make jokes. His hair was a light brown color. Jin often sported tuxes and suits with splashes of pink. Subtly showcasing his country’s colors of white and pink. He tended to dote on the youngest prince.
The youngest Prince was Prince Jungkook. Jungkook was ruggedly handsome and was from Chaot, the smallest of the seven countries. He was a little immature, he liked to prank members of the court and he and Prince Jimin were the flirtiest of the seven princes. They always had a lady on their arm and a drink in their hands. Jungkook typically wore black when he had to represent his country, It made the chocolate brown of his hair look wonderful and it made the bright silver of his country’s color stand out.
Prince Jimin, looking at the crown prince of Fila you would have thought he was the youngest, with his dyed pink locks and soft cheeks. He loved to dance, he and Prince Hoseok were always out on the dance floor. Prince Jimin liked to tease you about staying off to the side when it came to dancing. You had always been nervous and he always allowed Prince Hoseok to step in to coerce you to dance. He looked strapping in baby blue bowties. Up until recently he had light blonde hair, but what made him color his hair pastel pink eluded you.
Prince Hoseok who hailed from the country of Glea—a fitting name for a country with his shining personality as crown prince never failed to make you laugh. Whether it be with silly dance moves; gesturing to you during a faster paced song or the coy jokes he made when he finally succeeded in dancing with you. He kept his hair a dark maroon color. He was generous and caring. He apparently was the next in line to be betrothed, though you weren’t sure if he cared or not. He typically sported gold accents on his suits.
Finally, we get to Prince Taehyung. Prince Taehyung was the sun itself. Tan skin, a warm smile, and honey brown hair. He was from Iasnye, and was second youngest and the most caring gentleman you had ever met. Taehyung didn’t care for the bureaucratic life of becoming a king. He much rather cared for the people, especially children. The number of times the young prince was caught playing with children versus making connections outside of the other Princes and yourself was astronomical. Taehyung sported the color of the seas of Iasnye, that clear azure blue when he did decide to dress for his country. To say that you had a slight crush on him was an understatement.
You were pulled out of your thoughts when the town car pulled to a stop, the driver once again opening the door for you. Your view immediately landed on the people entering the large consulate mansion. Where the Princes currently resided. Taking a deep breath, you exited the car and you were pleased that the rain had stopped for now. You lifted your dress and walked up to consulate mansions stairs, your heart pounded in your chest. Once you entered you were enamored by the sheer amount of people here tonight. You looked around the room, hoping to spot a bar and when you did; the breath you had been holding whooshed out of you. Some liquid courage is what you needed right now.
You walked towards the bar, weaving past waiters and guests as the laughed boisterously. At one point, you heard the guffawing laugh of the Prime Minister of Glea, who had already clearly had too much to drink tonight. You made a mental note not to approach him. He tended to get handsy when he drank. You approached the bar and smiled at the bartender.
“I’ll have a glass of white wine please?” You asked and he nodded pulling a glass and pouring your drink for you. You turned to look at the rest of the party. To your left was the stage where a swing band was playing softly. God, everyone looked beautiful tonight. In the middle of the dance floor was Prince Jimin, who had on a lovely grey suit, his pink locks falling over his eyes as he dipped the woman he was dancing with. You took a sip from your drink and pulled your cell phone out of your clutch, checking to see if you had any messages from your boss Jeonghan.
“Miss Y/N, you really shouldn’t have your phone out here it’s not proper,” A low voice pointed out. “Is the party really that boring?” Your eyes flicked up to see Prince Namjoon, flustered you put your phone away and curtsied. He made a tutting noise.
“Sorry, Prince Namjoon.” He tutted again and you were confused.
“Y/N, what have I told you about being so formal with us? None of the other Princes like it when you do that.” Namjoon whined and you fought a giggle. However, he smiled at you and ordered a glass of red wine for himself.
“How are you Namjoon?” You asked, testing his name without formality. Namjoon shrugged his shoulders and watched the crowd with you.
“I’m fine, business as usual here at the consulate building.” Namjoon had passions outside of governing and he often felt the stress of doing both writing and governing too much sometimes.
“I see, why not go dancing and relieve some of the stress?” You suggested; he laughed loudly.
“Oh no, if you don’t have to dance then I most certainly don’t have to.”
“You’re a Prince, you have to dance.” You countered with a coy smile. Namjoon rolled his eyes.
“Y/N, I am walking destruction. Do you really want to see that on the dance floor?” He gestured over himself to prove his point and you laughed lightly.
“Hell yes.” You replied and put a hand over your mouth. Oh no! You were supposed to be professional. Namjoon tilted his head to the side at your expletive before laughing again.
“You know, that might have been the first time I have heard you curse.” Namjoon pointed out and he pondered it for a moment. “You should do that more often.” You gaped at the older male and sputtered. He took a sip from his wine glass and watched as Jimin detached himself from the woman he was dancing with, not before he whispered something in her ear to make her blush furiously. Jimin’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted you and Namjoon; a wide grin breaking over his face. Jimin immediately walked over and pulled you into a hug.
“Ah Y/N is here tonight!” Jimin exclaimed as he twirled your body around. You struggled to keep a grip on your wine glass as Jimin spun you about, worried about the contents of the glass getting all over his nicely tailored suit. You flushed and asked him to release you, only to hear a whine from the boy.
“Jimin, you’re going to suffocate her.” Namjoon warned, but you heard the laugh in his voice. Jimin let you go with a huff and smiled at you. He took your hands in his and looked up and down your body.
“You look amazing, green is your color.” Jimin praised and you felt another blush creep up your cheeks. It made the skin feel hot. Jimin pressed a kiss to your cheek, something he did every time you saw him. You tensed up and he let out another giggle. “You’re so uptight Y/N”
“I am not!” You protested and set your wine glass down on the bar. You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted petulantly. Jimin shook his head.
“Oh, prove to me you aren’t uptight.” He challenged and you waited for the same question he was bound to ask you. “Dance with me.” It was pretty standard of Jimin to tease you and then offer you to dance with him. With tried and true patience your replied with,
“No, I’ll look silly dancing next to you.”
“You’re going to refuse a Prince?” Jimin gasped and you rolled your eyes. He pouted cutely at you and you shook your head.
“Yes, go find the girl you were dancing with earlier or better yet, find Jungkook.” Namjoon let out a long snicker at your response and Jimin looked at you agape. He feigned hurt and scurried away, seeing Prince Jungkook enter the room. You shook your head and let out a laugh. Namjoon looked at you and back at the crowd before he told you he had to depart. Namjoon would have preferred to keep your company all night. But, you understood that he was obligated to mingle with the rest of the people. You figured you should attempt to do your job, finding sources for articles and keeping up the guise that you actually had something of substance to write about.
The night went on and you were seated by Prince Jin at dinner. You both shared some polite small talk between courses. But, mostly you observed. Watched each interaction the Princes had with officials and took small notes about what the officials were saying. You talked with Namjoon a lot and a bit with Prince Yoongi, though he seemed more interested in blending into the beige walls than making conversation. While speaking to Namjoon about your job you were interrupted by Prince Taehyung.
Taehyung looked radiant tonight. His suit was a deep blue color and his hair was pulled back away from his forehead. He gave you his signature box smile. “Prince Namjoon, do you mind if I steal Miss Y/N for a dance?” He requested politely and Namjoon raised a brow puzzled. Never was Taehyung so formal to him. Also, it was a surprise to see him actually engaging with another adult. Namjoon looked to you and you looked to Taehyung before nodding meekly. Taehyung smiled at you again and took your hand, leading you onto the dancefloor.
“You look very beautiful tonight.” Taehyung complimented and you flushed. His hand rested lightly on your waist and you held his shoulder swaying gently with him. Taehyung knew better than to try and pull you into a full waltz. You didn’t know how to dance.
“Thank you, your highness.” You answered, your mouth was slightly dry and you felt as if your heart was going to explode from your chest. He nodded and didn’t protest your statement like he normally would. Taehyung was eerily quiet and that was unsettling for you. “Is everything alright?” You inquired after a minute.
“Oh? You didn’t hear?” Taehyung sounded surprised as he looked down at you. You quirked an eyebrow. Hear what?
“Obviously not.” You replied and a wave of worry went through you. Was he going back to Iasnye? You felt his grip on your waist tighten.
“I am engaged to be married.” Taehyung answered solemnly. You couldn’t help the gasp of surprise exit your lips and you struggled to find a way to respond. Before you could answer the song abruptly ended and he detached himself from you. You wanted to stop him and ask what had happened. To inquire who he was getting married to and you thought this confession could be your big break as a writer. If you had the opportunity to cover a royal wedding! You could finally earn that promotion and get your name out there. You both clapped for the band and he walked you towards one of the balconies. You wondered if he was going to be talking to you about it. But, before you could inquire further the Prime Minister of Glea sauntered over, his rotund body separating you and Taehyung. If matters couldn’t get any worse your phone began to ring. You excused yourself outside and took the call, grateful the rain was gone.
“Hello?” You asked as you picked up the phone.
“Y/N!” The voice of Jeonghan, your boss spoke from the other line. “You need to come to the office.” You tilted your head to the side as he spoke, confused as to why the office needed you right this minute. “Sir, I’m currently at the consulate building working.” You replied.
“I know, but we’re pulling the article.”
“Y/N, your story has no traction, it’s a glorified fluff piece. You’re being reassigned.” You couldn’t believe this. You had been working on this story for two months. Did he understand how hard it was to get anything out of the princes? Did Jeonghan understand that it was damn near impossible to try and talk to them when the crown forbade the press for sitting in on governmental meetings? “I want you in the office tomorrow.” Then you heard the click and dial tone. You let out a frustrated groan and shoved your phone back into your clutch. You ran a hand through your hair, pulling the bobby pins out and you let it cascade over your shoulders.
“Work trouble?” The deep baritone voice of Taehyung made you jump. You turned towards him and sighed.
“Yeah, they’re pulling me from the article. I can no longer come to the consulate building.”
“Why?” Taehyung asked eyes wide. He stepped towards you and put his hand comfortingly on your shoulder.
“My story is not going anywhere, so they don’t want me writing it anymore. It needed a kick, something to gain readers.” You couldn’t believe this was happening. It was completely unfair. Taehyung looked at you and you could see the wheels in his head turning. You were at a loss as to what to do. You couldn’t believe this. Honestly, you couldn’t even think of a story that would get you the types of connections this one offered for you. Taehyung placed his hand on your chin and looked at you as if he had come up with the greatest idea in the world.
“Marry Me.” He stated and you flinched back. Shocked. Marry him? Why?
“What?” you croaked, throat dry and constricted. You needed a drink. A large stiff drink that would make you forget your name.
“Marry me, you need a big story and I don’t want to marry the woman I am betrothed to.”
“Prince Taehyung,” You began and he stopped you.
“It would only be for a short amount of time, just until my father gets off my back. Think about it, if you marry me you can write the big story you want. If you’re crown princess of Isanye you get into all those government meetings.” He was determined to get you to say yes. You thought about it for a moment. It would be amazing for your career to do this. But, you had always thought you would marry for love.
“I don’t know the first thing about being a princess!” You exclaimed. Taehyung looked at you beseechingly.
“I can teach you, please think about it.” Taehyung held you close. You couldn’t breathe he was so close. “Please.”
“Fine, I’ll marry you.” You had to put your career first. You had to. You didn’t want your whole world to implode and this was your golden ticket. You felt guilty, though, using him. Though Taehyung was planning on using you too. You couldn’t believe you were going to do this. Taehyung looked down at you and beamed. He kissed your forehead and pulled back.
I was very surprise when I discovered how little love Rashid recives. It’s not like the fandom hates him or something, it’s just like he doesn’t exist… And I don’t undestand why! LOOK AT HIM! He kyut. He smol. He has the fluffiest hair!
Lol no, let’s be serious, I really like his character.
He doesn’t like being a king, but he does it anyway and does a really good job! He made Balbadd a trading country, while everyone were making war against one another he was like “You know what? We’re gonna sell fish. A LOT of fish”. Srsly, Rashid made Balbadd the second biggest trading center in the world after Rehim, and Balbadd is the smallest country in the continent! That’s amazing! Yes, Balbadd isn’t the perfect country and Rashid can be seen as an absent father, but I don’t think it’s all Rashid fault. I’m quite sure that his marriage was arranged and Ahbmad and Sahbmad were educated by their mother. When Rashid understands that his children aren’t suited to be kings, he takes with him is illegitimate child under his wing and raises him to be king. Yeah, maybe that sounds a bit opportunistic, but he made this choice because he was worried about the future of his country. And I don’t think the queen and part of the nobility were too happy about this decision… If Rashid had given
Alibaba too much attention maybe someone would have tried to kill him. And than there are all the buisness trips that Rashid has done as a king. In short, I think Rashid is a wonderful character and I would love to talk about him with other people in the fandom! Opinions, headcanons, ships… Share with me everything about this cutiepie!
The true megayachts (those well over 200-feet-long), don’t really
come out to play or to be seen by potential buyers until the Monaco Yacht Show
later in the month. And since Monaco is home to the largest number of
millionaires and billionaires per capita in the world, it’s only fitting
that some of the world’s largest yachts come to show off in the world’s
second smallest country that’s synonymous with luxury. So here’s only a
taste of the over 500 yachts and countless toys (everything from
personal submarines to fully enclosed “limousine tenders” that allow
yacht owners to go ashore without getting a hair out of place) that will
be on display from September 23-26.
Floating in the Mozambique Channel, between the northern tips of Madagascar and Mozambique, are the Comoros, a handsome four-island nation sprayed across a volcanic archipelago. Grande Comore, the largest island, Mohéli and Anjouan form the self-governed Union of the Comoros; the fourth, Mayotte, remains a contested French overseas department. In the days of package tourism, its stretches of white beaches, palm trees and warm sea (home to the world’s largest crab, biggest clam and oldest fish respectively) were once Comoros’ claims to fame. Those days are long gone, however. Most people, nowadays, have never heard of the third smallest country in Africa.
the highest form of tradition and destruction of the bourgeois order
absence is a kind of opium that veils danger and summons up the
deceitful consciousness of order. That, however, is an intolerable
luxury at a moment that demands one not speak of traditions but
create them. We are living at a moment in history when all depends on
an enormous mobilization and concentration of the forces at hand. Our
fathers had perhaps the time to occupy themselves with the ideals of
an objective science and an art existing for its own sake. We in
contrast find ourselves quite clearly in a position in which not this
or that but the totality of our life is in question.
makes imperative the act of total mobilization. Its task is to pose
to every phenomenon, both human and material, the brutal question of
its necessity. Instead, in the years since the war, the state has
occupied itself with things that are not just superfluous to an
endangered existence but harmful, and it has neglected other things
that are critical to survival. The image one ought to have of the
state today resembles not a convivial passenger steamer but a warship
ruled by extreme simplicity and economy on which every motion is made
with an instinctive sense of confidence.
ought to inspire respect in foreigners visiting Germany are not
facades preserved of past times, not ceremonial speeches made during
the centenary celebrations of classic artists, and not the concerns
from which novels and plays derive their themes; it is rather the
virtues of poverty, work, and diligence which today represent
cultivation much more profoundly than the bourgeois ideal can even
people not know that our entire so-called culture is incapable of
preventing even the smallest neighboring country from violating our
territory? Do they not know that it is, on the contrary, enormously
important for the world to know that the defense of the nation will
enlist even children, women, and the aged in its cause? And that,
just as individuals renounced the pleasures of their private
existence, so would the government not hesitate for a second to sell
the art treasures in all the museums to the highest bidder, if its
defense required it?
expressions of the highest form of tradition, namely, the vital,
living form, obviously presuppose a supreme sense of responsibility,
a sense to which it is clear that the point now is not our
responsibility to images but to the primal strength to which these
images bear witness. That requires, to be sure, a genuine greatness
of another kind. Let us however be persuaded: if there still exists
among us genuine greatness, if somewhere a poet, an artist, a
believer is hidden, then it is this sense of responsibility and their
need to make themselves useful that will make them recognizable.
requires no prophetic gift to predict that we are standing not at the
beginning of a golden age but before great and difficult changes.
There is no optimism capable of obscuring the fact that great
conflicts are more numerous and more serious ever. The point is to
match the stature of these conflicts by creating orders that are
situation in which we find ourselves, however, is that of an anarchy
concealed behind the delusion cast by values become obsolete. This
situation is necessary insofar as it guarantees the decay of those
old orders whose fighting strength has proved insufficient. The
strength that one finds in the depth of the people, in contrast to
the creative soil of the state, has preserved itself in unsuspected
today we are justified in saying that exhaustion has been essentially
overcome – that we possess a youth that knows its responsibility
and whose core was invulnerable to anarchy. It is inconceivable that
Germany would ever lack good people. How grateful is this youth for
every sacrifice asked of it. The critical point, however, is lending
this willing and ready issue of nature a form corresponding to its
essence. This task poses the greatest and most significant challenges
to our productive energies.
what can be the spiritual nature of minds that fail to comprehend
that there is no more profound or knowing spirit than that of any
given soldier who fell somewhere on the Somme or in Flanders?
is the standard that we need.
Domination and Form” (1932)
He loves Argentinian empanadas and dulce de leche. In 2015, he said that if he had only one wish, it would be to travel unrecognized to a pizzeria and have a slice — or two or three. In other words, he may be protected by the world’s smallest army and be responsible for the spiritual governance of 1.2 billion people, but when it comes to eating, Pope Francis loves comfort food as much as the next person.
In fact, everyone whose return address lists “Vatican City” carries food close to their heart. Or so it would seem, judging by The Vatican Cookbook, which will be released in English in April 2016. It’s a tour of life and food in the world’s smallest country, as told by members of the Pontifical Swiss Guard.
The Principality of Sealand is a micronation located in the North Sea. Its mass consists of what was HM Fort Roughs, a former Second World War Maunsell Sea Fort, off the coast of Suffolk, England, United Kingdom.
While it has been described as the world’s smallest country, or the world’s smallest nation, Sealand is not recognised by any established sovereign state, although Sealand’s government claims it has been de facto recognised by the United Kingdom (after an English court ruled it did not have jurisdiction over Sealand as territorial water limitations were defined at the time) and Germany.
Since 1967 the facility has been occupied by family and associates of Paddy Roy Bates, who claim that it is an independent sovereign state. Bates seized it from a group of pirate radio broadcasters in 1967 with the intention of setting up his own station at the site. He attempted to establish Sealand as a nation-state in 1975 with the writing of a national constitution and establishment of other national symbols.
People seem to sometimes confuse her as a micronation, and tag her as so, but you should know she shouldn’t be considered as one.
She is considered a microstate
Monaco is the second-smallest country in the world (behind Vatican City), and yes it’s not even a mile large, but it has been part of the United Nations since 1993 and the Council of Europe in 2004. It is a city-state like Singapore or San Marino. France provides military defense. It’s not part of the EU but has adopted some policies. It’s a small but very rich country.
When you tag her as a micronation, you are saying that “she’s small, she’s not recognized by anyone” (the definition of micronation, according to Wikipedia is “an entity unrecognized by any world governments”). As a microstate (a small independent state no larger than a few square miles), you are saying “she’s small, but independent!” Monaco is not like Sealand or Wy; Monaco has diplomatic relations with several countries.
Monaco is a microstate not a micronation, and she is a great character too, and it’s so exciting that she will finally make her debut on the anime.
Aiden Kalani has lived her whole life in the small island nation of Akamukai. After Aiden’s freshman year of high school, her father’s job relocates their family to Makani, the smallest island in the country. While Aiden is rattled at having to hit the reset button on her highschool life after just settling in at her old school, she realizes it is also an opportunity to try out for the schools’ baseball team. But only boys are allowed to play. With a fresh start, an androgynous name, and going to a school where no one knows her, she decides to spend the rest of her summer vacation preparing to put on the ultimate act to be on the team - to play the part of a boy.
i’ll be posting sneak peaks of her comic on my Patreon. but don’t worry, if you can’t pledge, the full comic will be available to everyone when it’s ready.