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#I would like to learn about new people and changes but I have a feeling no one was keeping track in my absence
omgthatdress · 3 days
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Sooooo ummmmmmm this is something that's probably going to piss a lot of people off, but I feel like I really need to say it.
If you get a message from an account claiming to be a Palestinian fundraiser, it is a bot. It is a scam. You need to report & delete the message and encourage others to do the same.
I know because I get messages on this account DAILY. I have a very high follower count and I'm pretty active and I interact with my followers a lot, and apparently that all adds up to one big bot magnet.
Bots following and messaging this account was a MASSIVE problem before Tumblr fixed its new account policies. I used to spend literally hours blocking and reporting the hundreds of bots that I would get following me each day.
I learned a lot about bots and how to identify them. The easiest way is with no avatar, "untitled" in the blog description (BTW if your avatar is still set to default PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD change it because you run a substantial risk of being accidentally blocked & reported as a bot).
One of the dead give aways of a bot was what I call "word salad" names. Three seemingly random words strung together making no sense, always adjective, adjective or noun, noun. If you reported a lot of these bots, you'd notice the same words kept showing up.
Nowadays, I am bombarded with fundraiser requests and sometimes, they don't even bother to hide the fact that they're a bot. The avatar is default, the blog title is "untitled," and the blog name is a classic randomly-generated word salad.
However MOST of the requests I get come from at least semi-legit looking accounts. There are pictures, a name, a story. Never mind that I've gotten that message three times from different accounts.
Sometimes, they claim to be vetted, but the whole vetting system essentially adds up to "trust me bro." There is no way of guaranteeing that this account isn't just lying about being vetted, claiming to be vetted by a false person, or are using the identity of a real Palestinian to scam people.
Previously, I've seen a lot of people getting attacked for raising questions about these fundraisers and getting attacked for being racist or for harming Palestinian families in danger, like Tumblr isn't a website famous for its scams and the words "The Arkh Project" "All or Nothing" or "Miss Officer and Mr. Truffles" mean nothing to you.
I personally have been scammed by people claiming to be charities on Tumblr before, specifically, The Leelah Project which used the name of a trans teenager who died by suicide to swindle people out of their money.
Luckily, there are actual, respected charities out there you can give money to if you want to help the cause:
Palestinian Children's Relief Fund
Palestine Red Crescent Society
United Nations Relief Works Agency
Islamic Relief
World Central Kitchen
Médecins Sans Frontièrs
One of the hardest things to accept about the situation in Palestine is that realistically, there is very little that your average outsider can do to change it. However, these large, well-respected and trustworthy charities are out there doing the hard work to keep people alive, and should be where the donation money is going
These scam bots feed on people's naïvety and need to believe that they are making a difference, and even worse, feed on the fear that by ignoring them, it somehow makes you a racist doing direct harm to a refugee family, when in fact they are using the suffering of Palestinians to take away money from those in need.
As far as fundraisers that don't send out random asks for donations, I honestly don't know. You'll have to do the work yourself and approach with much caution.
Be careful out there.
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a-lexia11 · 5 hours
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Womanizer (Part 1)
Fuckboy!Alexia Putellas x reader
Word count: Around 14k
Warning:highly suggestive (minors DNI), some angst.
Based on this request
Part 2
Note: I will be posting Part 2 in a few minutes, I just need to proofread it!
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You relocated to Barcelona, hoping for a fresh start—a new city, new people, and a chance to rebuild your life with your three-year-old daughter, Mia.
You needed a place where the past wouldn’t haunt you, where you could finally focus on giving Mia the stable life she deserves.
It hasn’t been easy. You spent five years with your ex-boyfriend, someone you once believed was your forever. But over time, the cracks began to show.
He cheated on you more times than you care to remember, always finding excuses, always making promises he never kept.
When you discovered you were pregnant, you thought maybe things would change—that becoming parents might finally bring him closer.
Instead, the moment he found out about the pregnancy, he walked out on you without a second thought.
He left you to carry the weight of it all alone—heartbroken, pregnant, and unsure of what the future held.
Here in Barcelona, you met your neighbor, Carmen, a true blessing in your life. From the very first day you moved in, she was there—knocking on your door with a plate of home-cooked food, her warm smile making you feel like you weren’t quite so far from home.
Additionally, Carmen speaks English, which has been a great relief. Navigating a new country is challenging enough, and trying to learn Spanish on top of it all has been overwhelming at times.
Still, you believe your Spanish is at a decent level.
So when you first realized she was fluent, it felt like another little gift from the universe.
Carmen, with her silver-streaked hair and lively eyes, quickly became a constant in your new world, someone who seemed to understand without asking too many questions.
“You remind me of my daughter,” she’d say often, her tone affectionate as she’d pass by your door or hand you a fresh loaf of bread from the bakery down the street.
It didn’t take long before she offered you a job at her pride and joy—her little flower shop on the corner. “It’s nothing fancy,” she’d told you with a shrug, “but it’s my heart. And I could use the help. You’ll like it, trust me.”
At first, you hesitated. You hadn’t planned on working with flowers, or working at all, not while you were still getting your bearings in a new city.
But Carmen’s offer came at just the right time, and something about her made it impossible to refuse.
The shop itself is small but beautiful. The soft light from the street filters through the windows in the morning, casting a warm glow over the arrangements of roses, lilies, and wildflowers.
You spend your first days trimming stems, arranging blooms, and greeting customers. It’s peaceful in a way you hadn’t expected—almost therapeutic.
——
One afternoon, while you’re carefully arranging a bouquet behind the counter, the soft chime of the doorbell rang through the shop. You glanced up, and there she is—Alexia Putellas.
Her arrival is impossible to miss. Not only because she’s Barcelona’s football darling, her face splashed across billboards all over the city, but because she’s also infamous for her reputation. A womanizer. The kind of woman who seems to have a new lover every week.
Carmen had spoken of her often, describing how Alexia visits the shop almost daily. To Carmen, she’s practically like a daughter.
But until now, you hadn’t seen Alexia yourself. She’s been away, traveling for football matches.
Your daughter, Mia, is a huge fan of hers, idolizing her both as a footballer and a larger-than-life figure.
You’d never told Mia about Alexia’s reputation though—it wasn’t something your three-year-old needed to know obviously.
Alexia entered the shop with that unmistakable swagger, every movement filled with a quiet confidence that immediately grabs attention.
She’s not alone either. A shorter woman is draped under her arm, looking relaxed and cozy, as if she’s used to being in such close proximity to Alexia.
It’s unclear whether she’s a friend or one of Alexia’s many "flings," but the way they moved together hints at something more, or perhaps nothing at all. With Alexia, it’s hard to tell.
Alexia greeted Carmen as though she’s just stopped by to visit family.
She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Carmen’s cheek. “¡Hola, Carmen!” she said warmly. “¡Qué gusto verte! Te he echado de menos.” (Hi, Carmen! It's so good to see you! I've missed you)
Carmen beamed, clearly delighted to see her. “¡Alexia! ¡Qué alegría verte de nuevo!” she exclaimed , her voice filled with affection. (Alexia! What a joy to see you again)
“Hace tiempo que no pasabas por aquí. ¿Cómo te ha ido? Todo bien con los partidos?” (It's been a while since you last came by. How have you been? Everything going well with the matches?)
“Todo bien, gracias. Una temporada agotadora, pero estamos ganando, así que vale la pena,” Alexia replied, her eyes drifting around the shop before locking onto you. (All good, thanks. It's been an exhausting season, but we're winning, so it's worth it)
“Esta es Laura,” she added casually, introducing the woman at her side. (This is Laura)
“Laura, te presento a Carmen, la dueña de esta maravillosa floristería.” (Laura, let me introduce you to Carmen, the owner of this wonderful flower shop)
Laura smiled kindly at Carmen. “Encantada, Carmen,” she said, her voice soft but genuine. (Nice to meet you, Carmen)
“El placer es mío, Laura,” Carmen replied. “¿Qué te trae por Barcelona?” (The pleasure is mine, Laura.What brings you to Barcelona?)
Laura shrugged with a small laugh. “Estoy aquí de visita. Alexia me está mostrando la ciudad.” (I'm here visiting. Alexia is showing me around the city.)
The conversation flowed easily between them, but Alexia’s gaze kept drifting back to you.
Her eyes swept over you in a way that felt unsettling—almost predatory, as if she were sizing you up.
It’s a look you’ve seen before—back when you were too trusting, too naive, and ended up burned by someone who once gazed at you the same way.
After a bit of back-and-forth, Carmen invited Laura to check out some of the newer flower arrangements, leading her away from the counter. And that’s when Alexia seized her moment.
She walked over to you, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hola, guapa,” she said in a tone dripping with confidence. “No creo que nos hayamos conocido. Soy Alexia.” (Hello, gorgeous.I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Alexia)
You focused on your work, refusing to meet her gaze. “Y/N,” you replied coolly, your voice polite but distant.
“Un placer, Y/N,” Alexia continued, clearly undeterred by your indifference. (Nice to meet you, Y/N)
She leaned casually on the counter, her eyes following the movements of your hands as you arranged the flowers. “Sabes, tienes un gran talento con las flores”. (You know, you have a real talent with flowers)
You kept your expression neutral, fully aware of what she was trying to do. You were tired of smooth talkers, especially someone like Alexia, who likely believed she could charm anyone into bed.
You’ve seen it all before—Mia’s father had the same cocky attitude before he left you when things got tough.
Without looking up, you switched to English, knowing full well that Alexia speaks it fluently. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate you flirting with someone else.”
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah, what a beautiful voice you have, Y/N,” she replied in flawless English, her thick accent making her cockiness even more apparent.
“She’s not my girlfriend, don’t worry. Just a friend… we have a lot of fun together.” She winked at you, making her meaning painfully clear.
You rolled your eyes and refocused on the flowers, hoping that by ignoring her, she would eventually leave you alone.
But Alexia leaned closer, not giving up so easily. “You seem annoyed. I could help with that, you know,” she said, her voice low and suggestive.
You let out a huff, finally meeting her gaze. “You’re the one annoying me.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “Feisty. I like it,” she said, leaning even closer, her grin widening. “You know, people like you? They’re always incredible in bed.”
You shot her a withering glare but remained silent, resolved not to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
You figured that if you didn’t engage, she would get bored and leave. Just before she could say anything else, though, Laura called for her from across the shop.
Alexia straightened up, glancing over at Laura before turning back to you with a smirk. “Don’t miss me too much. I’ll be right back,” she said, winking playfully before sauntering off.
You watched as she approached Laura, wrapping her arms around her from behind and brushing her lips against the top of Laura’s head.
As if sensing your gaze, Alexia glanced back your way and sent you another wink, clearly enjoying the game she was playing.
You rolled your eyes again, muttering under your breath as you gave her the finger. Alexia just grinned, clearly amused, before turning back to Laura.
Eventually, they returned to the counter to pay. Carmen chatted happily with them as they gathered their things, but you kept your focus on your work, doing your best to ignore Alexia’s presence.
As they finished paying, Alexia turned to you one last time. “Adios, Y/N,” she said with a playful wink. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
You didn’t bother replying, simply giving her a blank look as she left the shop, the bell chiming softly behind her.
Once they were gone, Carmen walked over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said gently. “I left you alone with Alexia. She can be… intense.”
“Intense is an understatement.”you replied with a small laugh.
Carmen chuckled, shaking her head. “Yes, I know. She really enjoys the company of women, but I promise you, she’s a good person at heart. You just need to get to know her better.”
You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure,” you muttered, not believing a word of it.
——
“Mommy!” Your daughter’s voice called out as soon as you walked through the door of your apartment, returning home from work.
“Hi, baby! I missed you so much,” you said, scooping her up and wrapping her in a tight hug, showering her face with kisses.
“I missed you too!” she giggled, her small arms clinging to you.
You gently set her down and handed her the single flower you’d brought home. It had become a ritual—bringing her a different flower each week because she absolutely adored them.
“Ooh, this one is so pretty! Thank you, Mommy,” she said, planting a kiss on your cheek before dashing off to her room, likely to add her new flower to the others.
“Muchísimas gracias, María,” you said, turning to María, Mia’s babysitter, who had been helping you since you arrived in Barcelona. You handed her a small envelope with money. (Thank you very much,María)
“You’re welcome, Y/N. I love taking care of her. Es una niña maravillosa,” María responded warmly, her smile genuine. (She’s a wonderful girl)
María has been babysitting Mia since you moved to Barcelona. As Mia hasn’t started school yet, she’s still learning Spanish, and María has played a key role in helping her with that.
“Mia, come say goodbye to María, please,” you called out.
Mia came running, her face lighting up as she threw herself into María’s arms and planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Adiós, María,” she said in sweet, accented Spanish.
“Adiós, Mia. Hasta mañana,” María replied, giving her a final hug before turning to you. “Adiós,” she said, and you echoed her farewell as she left.
After dinner, Mia begged you to let her watch the Barcelona match. You rolled your eyes internally at the thought of seeing Alexia again, even if only on the screen, but Mia’s big, pleading eyes made it impossible to refuse.
Now, you’re settled in front of the TV with Mia snuggled next to you, both of you watching the match. Mia is practically vibrating with excitement.
When Alexia scored a goal, Mia leaped up from the couch, clapping her hands and cheering loudly. “Did you see that, Mommy? It was amazing!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling as she mimicked Alexia’s celebration, kissing her shirt just like Alexia did on the screen.
“Yes, I saw that,” you replied, forcing a smile even though your heart wasn’t in it. You couldn’t ignore the pang of frustration at how deeply Mia admired Alexia.
“I want to be just like her when I grow up,” Mia declared, her gaze fixed intently on the TV. Her little hands were raised, as if she were celebrating her own goal.
“Eww, no,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
“Why not?” Mia asked, her voice quivering slightly. “I want to be a great player like Alexia. you think I can’t ?”
“Shit, Y/N, think before you speak!” you mentally reprimanded yourself, recognizing that your impulsive reaction could have hurt her feelings.
Your heart melted at the sincerity shining in her eyes.
“Of course you can be a great player,” you said, lifting Mia onto your lap and kissing her forehead.
“Even better than Alexia. But remember, you don’t have to be like her. You can be yourself and still be amazing.”
“Yes! I can be better!” she exclaimed, her spirits lifted. She turns back to the TV, still nestled in your arms, eyes glued to the game.
As you watch the match, you can’t help but feel conflicted. You understand that Alexia’s skill on the field has earned her immense admiration and a place in Mia’s heart.
Yet, you found it difficult to reconcile your daughter’s admiration for someone whose reputation clashed so sharply with your own values.
——
“Hola, guapa. I missed you since yesterday,” you heard Alexia’s voice, laced with her trademark confidence, as you arranged some flowers in a pot.
Startled, you turned to find her standing just behind you. With Carmen out for her dentist appointment, it was just you and Alexia. You let out a sigh, feeling a wave of annoyance wash over you.
You attempted to ignore her, concentrating hard on your task at hand.
“Hey, it’s rude to ignore a customer,” Alexia teased, her tone playfully mocking. “I might just have to tell Carmen about this.”
“You’re not a customer, just a nuisance,” you shot back curtly as you made your way toward the register.
Alexia followed you, casually leaning against the counter with her elbow propped up and her chin resting on her hand, her gaze fixed intently on you.
“Oh, me encanta cuando las mujeres se hacen las difíciles. Es un gran excitante“ (Oh, I love it when women play hard to get. It’s such a turn-on)
“I’m not playing hard to get; I genuinely have no interest,” you replied, focusing on cutting the roses.
Alexia’s smirk grew wider. “Oh, really? Who isn’t interested in me? Me has visto? (Have you seen me?)
You glanced her up and down, feigning disinterest. “Yes, I see you, but there’s not much to see,” you retorted, even though you couldn't deny her stunning looks.
“Por favor, amor, you and I both know you’re lying,” she replied with a smirk, clearly relishing the back-and-forth.
She continued, “You know, last night I had a match.” You merely hummed in response, your disinterest evident as you focused on your work. “Did you watch it?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of pride.
You made a face of mild disgust before lying, “No.”
“Qué pena,” she said with a self-satisfied grin.(What a shame)
“We won, and I even scored a goal—just for you,” she added, her tone brimming with confidence and a hint of arrogance.
You can’t help but scoff at her audacity. “Do you use that line on every girl you want in your bed?” you asked, finally looking up from arranging the flowers.
“A few of them,” she replied with a casual shrug, her playful smile still intact.
You tried to brush off the way she was getting under your skin. “So, what do you want? Carmen won’t be here until this afternoon if you’re looking for her.”
Alexia's eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t come for Carmen. I just wanted to see you. Echaba de menos tu actitud atrevida,” she said, her gaze lingering on you as she bit her lip. (I missed your feisty attitude)
You pointed the flower cutter at her, trying to emphasize your point. “Don’t make me use this on you.”
Alexia’s grin only grew wider. “Dios, you’re so incredibly hot when you’re all aggressive. It just makes me want you more.”
You decided to ignore her comment.
“I want to buy some flowers,” she finally said, a smirk playing on her lips.
“Well, there are plenty of flowers to choose from. Just pick what you want, pay, and then leave,” you snapped, your patience wearing thin.
“Hey! No need to be rude,” she teased, crossing her arms as she sat on the counter. “Necesito un consejo.” (I need some advice)
You looked at her, signaling for her to continue.
“So, what kind of flowers should I get to say I’m sorry?” she asked, her tone surprisingly earnest.
Recognizing her genuine curiosity, you decided to help out. “You might want to consider blue hyacinths. They symbolize sincerity and heartfelt apologies,” you suggested, motioning for her to follow you as you walked over to the flowers.
“Or red carnations,” you added, pointing to another option. “They also symbolize an apology and love.”
Alexia studied the flowers with a focused intensity that caught your attention, her fingers lightly brushing over the petals as she contemplated her choices.
Standing this close, the faint scent of her perfume enveloped you, making it hard to resist being drawn in.
You realize you’re watching her more than you intended, taking in how her long, blonde hair fell over her shoulders, glinting in the light.
Her hazel eyes appeared even brighter in the soft glow of the shop, framed by thick lashes that enhanced her striking beauty.
She stood tall, her toned figure moving with an effortless grace that naturally commanded attention.
For a moment, you're caught off guard, realizing just how incredibly gorgeous she really is.
“Ay! I can’t decide. Which one would be more fitting for ‘I’m sorry for kicking you out of my bed, bruising you, and making you leave half-naked because my sister was coming over? But hey, will you come back and have sex with me again?’” she said casually, pulling you out of your daze.
You stared at her in disbelief before finally saying, “The blue hyacinths,” and pushed them toward her chest before walking away.
Alexia headed to the counter, pulling out her wallet. “Gracias. I hope she’ll love them. How much?” she asked, her smirk never fading.
You told her the total, and she handed over the money. But rather than walking away, she moved around the counter with a sly grin.
Before you knew it, she had you cornered, her presence dominating the small space between you and the wall. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in closer.
“What do you want now? As a customer, you’re not supposed to be on this side of the counter,” you said, meeting her gaze with defiance.
Alexia leaned closer, her breath warm against your ear. “I’ll get you in my bed one day. I saw the way you looked at me. Estás tan cerca de ceder” (You’re so close to giving in)
“The only time I’ll be in your bed is in your dreams,” you whispered back, maintaining your defiant tone.
Alexia’s smile is both wicked and confident. “I can’t wait to fuck you in my bed, even if it’s just in my dreams,” she said before turning to leave.
She paused at the door, glancing back with a sly smile. “I don’t give up easily,” she added before walking out.
You watched her leave, a mix of frustration and unwanted attraction coursing through you.
——
The next morning, you found Alexia back in the shop, but this time, Carmen was there too, much to your relief.
As you stepped out of the back room, you noticed Alexia with a different woman, not Laura, whom you had previously met.
You assumed this was the woman Alexia needed to apologize to.
You arranged the flowers on display, offering Alexia and her companion a brief, polite greeting before moving to the other side of the shop.
While bending over to adjust some flowers, you heard Alexia’s unmistakable voice. “Hmm, me encanta ver a las mujeres inclinarse así. Es mi posición favorita.” (Hmm, I love watching women bend over like that. It’s my favorite position.)
You straightened up immediately and shot her a sharp look.
“I see the flowers worked,” you said, nodding toward the woman Alexia had entered the store with.
“Oh, that’s not her! But yes, they worked” Alexia replied with a self-satisfied smirk.
“I just wanted to thank you. Gracias a ti, tuve una noche increíble,” she said, giving you a playful eyebrow wiggle. (Thanks to you, I had an amazing night.)
You rolled your eyes and turned away, trying to ignore her.
Later, as you and Carmen are working at the register, Alexia and her date approached, carrying a bouquet of flowers.
“Oh, ¡buena elección! Las rosas rojas siempre son una excelente opción,” Carmen said enthusiastically, and the woman thanked her. (Oh, good choice! Red roses are always a great option.)
Alexia’s arm is draped casually around her current date’s shoulders, a gesture of intimacy that’s impossible to ignore.
As she pulled her wallet from her handbag, she handed Carmen a generous tip along with the payment for the flowers.
“Espera un momento para tu cambio; no hay suficiente en la caja,” Carmen said, her voice trailing off as she headed into the back room.(Hold on for your change; there’s not enough in the register)
With Carmen out of sight, Alexia turned her attention back to her date, a playful smirk curling on her lips.
She slid her hand around the woman’s neck, her touch both firm and tender, tilting her head back. Alexia leaned down slowly, her movements deliberate and sensuous.
She planted a deep, lingering kiss on her date’s lips.
As their lips met, you could see Alexia’s tongue gently sliding into the woman’s mouth, adding a more intimate, passionate touch to the kiss.
Her eyes though remain locked on yours throughout, a challenge in her gaze as if daring you to react.
The kiss seemed to stretch in defiance of time, with Alexia’s lips lingering and her fingers lightly tracing the woman’s neck.
The soft, rhythmic sound of their kissing was the only noise in the room, creating an almost palpable tension that seemed to fill the entire space.
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly relishing the provocative display she was creating. As she continued to kiss her date with a slow, deliberate intensity, she stared at you, her gaze both teasing and challenging.
With a playful wink, she seemed to savor the effect her performance was having on you, fully aware of the spectacle she was making.
As Carmen’s footsteps drew nearer, Alexia slowly and reluctantly pulled away, her expression one of satisfaction.
With a smirk, she casually wiped with her thumb the lingering trace of saliva from the woman’s lips, clearly pleased with the effect of their intimate display.
She turned to you, her expression a mix of mischief and confidence.
Her gaze remained steady, her eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of challenge. You met her stare, striving to maintain your composure despite the palpable tension in the air.
You narrowed your eyes at her, feeling the heat of the moment as you struggled to maintain your professional demeanor amidst the charged atmosphere created by Alexia’s bold flirtation.
“Carmen, ¿podrías arreglar que estas flores se entreguen en mi casa mañana por la mañana?” Alexia asked sweetly, her gaze flickering to you with an almost imperceptible, suggestive glint. (Carmen, could you arrange for some flowers to be delivered to my house tomorrow morning?)
“Sí, por supuesto. Y/N, ¿podrías encargarte de la entrega?” Carmen asked you with a gentle smile. (Yes, of course. Y/N, would you be able to handle the delivery?)
You forced a polite smile and nodded. “Of course,” you replied, feeling Alexia’s gaze linger on you. She beamed, giving you a subtle, mischievous wink that made your heart skip a beat.
“¡Genial! Entonces, Carmen, te enviaré un mensaje con los detalles más tarde, ¿está bien?” Alexia said her tone almost triumphant as she looked at Carmen. (Great! Then, Carmen, I’ll send you a message with the details later, okay?)
“¡Claro!” Carmen replied warmly, handing back the flowers and Alexia’s change. (Of course.)
“Nos vemos mañana,” Alexia said with a lingering, teasing smile and blowing you a kiss before turning to leave. (See you tomorrow.)
Her smile promised more than just a casual encounter.
Carmen watched her go and then turned to you with a knowing grin.
“Please, don’t,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away, hearing Carmen’s amused chuckle behind you.
——
“Mommy?” Your daughter’s voice piped up during dinner, catching your attention.
“Yes, darling?” You looked up from your meal, focusing on her earnest face.
“One day, can I come to your work with you? I really want to see the pretty flowers,” she asked, her large eyes full of hope and excitement.
“I’ll have to ask Carmen about that first,” you said, and her eyes lit up with a bright smile.
“So that means it’s a yes, right? Because Carmen loves me so much. She always tells me she loves me,” she said, her grin widening as she swung her legs under the table.
“Of course, Carmen adores you. It’s impossible not to with how adorable you are,” you said, reaching over to gently squeeze her cheek.
You planted a series of soft, playful kisses on her cheek, making her giggle uncontrollably.
——
“Alright, it’s here,” you muttered to yourself as you arrived at Alexia’s apartment with her flower delivery.
She had ordered three large bouquets—two of red roses and one of white roses.
You knocked on the door, but there was no response. After waiting several minutes, you tried again, this time rapping more insistently. Still, silence.
Growing increasingly frustrated and determined, you delivered one last, resolute knock.
After a few more minutes, Alexia finally opened the door, looking slightly breathless and dressed only in a sports bra and shorts.
“Hola, guapa. Sorry for the wait, I was… busy. Please, come in,” she said with an inviting smile, opening the door wider as you stepped inside.
“Here. You can put them on the kitchen table,” she gestured to a white table.
“Were you working out?” you asked, noting her sweaty appearance and minimal attire.
She smirked, her confidence barely contained. “You could say that. Just working on my cardio.”
You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over her defined abs and the tattooed elegance of her back. She was stunning, a vision of physical perfection.
Your admiration was interrupted by the sound of voices. Turning around, you saw two tall and impossibly beautiful women, one brunette and one blonde emerging from a room. They looked like they could be models.
“Damas,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “tuve una noche y mañana increíble con ambas” as she handed them the red rose bouquets. (Ladies,I had an amazing night and morning with both of you)
The brunette woman leaned in first, her lips brushing against Alexia's in a soft, lingering kiss.
Afterward, the blonde woman approached, her kiss equally tender, adding to the intimate exchange.
You couldn’t help but cringe at the sight, the display of affection feeling overly intimate and uncomfortable.
Alexia escorted them to the door, bidding them farewell with playful pats and a cheeky slap on each of their butts.
You once again cringed at the sight.
Once Alexia closed the door, she turned back to you with a smug, challenging grin.
“Can you please pay so I can get back to work?” you said, trying to keep your tone steady but feeling your frustration simmering.
“Yes, of course,but first I a gift for you” Alexia replied,she walked over to the kitchen table, picked up the bouquet of white roses, and handed them to you with an almost mocking flourish.
You raised an eyebrow, feeling a surge of annoyance. “I don’t want it,” you said flatly.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t waver. “Fine. I’ll just give it to the girl I’m seeing tonight.”
“Yeah, do that. Now, please pay,so I can go back to work” you insisted, your patience wearing thin.
“Don’t you want to relax a bit? There’s a couch over there, or maybe something more comfortable—like my bed?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“That’s why you wanted the flowers delivered? To lure me into your bed?” you snapped, your anger boiling over.
“Maybe,” she said, her tone smug and unrepentant, and that was the breaking point.
“So, you had me deliver these flowers, made me wait outside while you were fucking two women, and now you’re trying to bribe me with a bouquet to get me into bed?” you demanded, your voice rising with each word.
“Exactly,” she said, her demeanor unshaken. “I wanted to show you that I can have any women I want. I just had an incredible night with two women. No one can resist me, so why do you?”
You were fuming, your words coming out sharp and hurtful. “"Listen closely, Alexia, because I’m only going to say this once. I would never sleep someone like you. You’re selfish, arrogant, and unbearably overconfident. You think no one can resist you because of your looks or your celebrity status, but that’s a mistake. People are drawn to the idea of being with a celebrity, not to you as a person. They use you just as you use them. You’re nothing more than a lonely woman who sleeps around because you lack meaningful connections. Your allure may attract attention, but it’s clear you have no real relationships. You’re just filling a void, and that’s not something I’d ever want to be a part of. You are pathetic.”
You locked eyes with her, every word stinging. “Stay away from me.”
Alexia’s expression shifted from smug to shocked, her face falling. Her eyes glistened with hurt as she stared at the floor.
“Um…okay… voy a buscar mi billetera. Vuelvo enseguida.” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly as she turned away quickly. (I’m just going to get my wallet. I’ll be right back)
As you watched Alexia turn away, a pang of regret began to sink in. You realized that your outburst might have been fueled more by your unresolved feelings about your ex than by anything Alexia had done.
The way she carried herself, her bravado, and her seeming lack of genuine connections struck a nerve, bringing your past frustrations to the surface.
You could see how your words might have been more a reflection of your own pain and disillusionment than a fair judgment of her.
Even though some of what you said was truthful, the intensity of your anger revealed how deeply you were affected by your own experiences.
Alexia returned with the payment, handing it to you with a subdued “You can keep the change.” Her voice was soft, her usual confidence replaced by a vulnerable quietness.
You took the money, nodding curtly. Without another word, you turned and left her apartment, heading back to the flower shop with a heavy heart.
——
For three days, Alexia hadn’t shown up to the store, and the gnawing guilt was becoming harder to ignore.
You tried not to dwell on it, but it lingered in the back of your mind. The shop felt quieter without her presence, and the longer the silence stretched, the more you felt the weight of your actions. You knew it wasn’t just a coincidence—your outburst had driven her away.
Carmen noticed it too. On the third day, as the two of you were arranging flowers for a new display, she finally spoke up.
“Has Alexia said anything to you?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry.
You shook your head, not wanting to meet her eyes. “No… Why?”
“It’s just strange, isn’t it? Alexia not coming by for this long, especially when she’s still in Barcelona. It’s… odd,” she said, glancing at you carefully.
You felt a wave of guilt wash over you. Carmen was right—Alexia had been a regular at the shop, her visits frequent and, despite her cocky attitude, somewhat predictable.
You tried to focus on the flowers in your hand, but the words hung heavy on your tongue.
“Did something happen?” Carmen asked softly, her voice more knowing than questioning.
At first, you tried to brush it off. “Nothing happened,” you mumbled, but Carmen raised an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. You sighed, knowing there was no point in lying.
“Alright… something did happen,” you admitted, setting the flowers down. Carmen leaned in slightly, her attention fully on you.
“She’s been… acting a certain way ever since I met her. You know, making these dirty jokes, flirting nonstop, doing things to get a reaction out of me.” You hesitated, unsure if you should tell her the rest, but Carmen waited patiently.
“She—uh—made out with someone in front of me while staring right at me,” you continued, feeling the irritation rise again as you remembered that morning. “But it wasn’t just that. When I went to her apartment for her flowers delivery, there were these two women at her apartment. She made me wait outside while she was… busy with them. Then she gave me some stupid roses, trying to get me to sleep with her.” The words spilled out faster now. “That’s when I snapped.”
Carmen looked shocked, her brows furrowing in surprise. “And what did you say?”
You hesitated again, but Carmen gave you an encouraging nod, so you told her the whole truth. “I basically told her she was selfish, cocky, and overconfident. That people only used her because she’s a celebrity, and she’s just a lonely woman who sleeps around because she has no real connections.” As the words came out, you cringed, realizing just how harsh they had been.
Carmen stared at you for a moment, processing everything. Then, she let out a soft sigh, shaking her head. “Wow… that’s… a lot,” she said slowly. “I understand why you blew up, honestly, with how she was acting. Alexia can be… well, a little much. But those words?” Carmen hesitated, glancing at you sympathetically. “I think they might’ve hurt her more than you realize.”
You scoffed lightly, though not out of amusement. “Hurt her? Carmen, she was literally flaunting two women in my face like it was some kind of power move.”
“I know, I know,” Carmen replied gently, “and that’s exactly why I think she was hurt. Look, Alexia may put on this big, confident show, but I’ve known her for a while. Underneath all of that, she’s a lot more sensitive than she lets on.”
You frowned, processing Carmen’s words. “She didn’t seem too sensitive when she was throwing those women in my face.”
“She’s hiding behind it,” Carmen said, shrugging slightly. “People act like that when they’re trying to protect themselves. Not saying it excuses her behavior, but it explains it. She’s not used to people seeing past the surface.”
You slumped against the counter, feeling torn between your anger and guilt. “I don’t know… maybe I took it too far. She just reminded me so much of my ex. It’s like I wasn’t just yelling at her, but at him too.”
Carmen smiled softly, her eyes warm with understanding. “Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. Look, I get it. Sometimes old wounds can make us lash out at the wrong people. Alexia just happened to push the wrong buttons.”
You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “What should I do? I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”
Carmen chuckled softly, patting your shoulder. “I’d say maybe you owe her a conversation. But don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re both adults, and you’ll figure it out. Trust me, Alexia’s tough, but she’s not as unbreakable as she pretends to be.”
She gave you a playful nudge and added with a smirk, “Besides, you know what they say about love and hate, right? Sometimes they’re closer than you think.”
You rolled your eyes at Carmen’s teasing, but deep down, her words gave you a lot to think about.
——
Two days after your conversation with Carmen, Alexia finally made her reappearance.
You were busy assisting a couple of clients when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her walk into the shop.
She carried a bouquet of flowers in her hand, and for a brief moment, the world outside your conversation with the clients seemed to fade away.
The air felt heavier with her presence, but at the same time, the absence of the usual playful energy she brought with her was unmistakable.
The store had felt quieter without her, and the weight of the silence between you two was something you could no longer ignore.
You had driven her away. That much was clear.
You noticed Alexia standing by the counter, her eyes fixed on you.There was none of her usual cocky confidence.
Her posture was more reserved, even hesitant. When you finished with the clients and they finally left, it was just the two of you in the shop, the tension thick in the air.
She took a step closer, her movements slower than usual. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted softly, her voice noticeably different.
Gone was the teasing arrogance you had grown accustomed to. Instead, it was quiet, almost vulnerable.
“Hola,” you replied, matching her tone. You weren’t sure what to expect from her, but this... this wasn’t it.
She handed you the bouquet—blue hyacinths. The flowers of apology. Alexia had remembered.
“These are for you. I... I wanted to apologize for how I acted. What I did was wrong, and I’m really sorry,” she said, holding your gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity.
You took the flowers, their fragrance soft and delicate, but their meaning hit you harder. “Thank you, Alexia. I, um, I need to apologize too. My words that day were... I shouldn’t have said all of that. I was just really angry and—” You began to ramble, but Alexia gently interrupted you.
“No, don’t apologize,” she said, shaking her head. “You had every right to be upset. I made you wait, wasted your time, and I... pushed you too far. I’ve been making things difficult for you since day one. I made you crazy, though not exactly the way I hoped,” she added with a light laugh, trying to keep things casual. But as soon as the words left her lips, she grimaced, regretting the joke.
Before she could apologize for that too, you smiled—a small, genuine smile.
Alexia froze for a second, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” you asked, confused by her reaction.
“You smiled,” she repeated softly, her voice a mixture of awe and surprise.
You raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“Nunca sonríes. Bueno... no hacia mí, de todos modos. Así que sí, estoy un poco sorprendida en este momento,” she said, as if it was the most mind-blowing revelation she’d ever had. (You never smile. Well... not at me, anyway. So, yeah, I’m kind of shocked right now)
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my god, Alexia, you’re ridiculous.”
But Alexia’s expression softened even more, her eyes full of warmth as she watched you laugh.
“And now you’re laughing too? Wow, a smile and a laugh in the same conversation? I must be the luckiest person alive,” she said, playfully over-exaggerating her excitement.
“You’re being ridiculous,” you said again, though your heart wasn’t in it. Instead, you were secretly touched by her joy over such a small thing.
You brought the bouquet to your nose, inhaling the sweet fragrance as you studied her face.
Alexia’s gaze softened even further. “You have a beautiful smile, you know that?” she said quietly, the sincerity in her words catching you off guard.
You felt your cheeks warm under her compliment, and you quickly shook your head. “Alright, let’s not push your luck,” you said, still smiling despite yourself.
Alexia’s nervousness seemed to ease at your reaction, and she hesitated for a moment before holding out her hand. “So... am I forgiven?”
You pretended to consider it, watching the subtle anxiety creep back into her expression. Finally, you nodded. “You’re forgiven.”
A visible sigh of relief washed over her as she pumped her fist in a small victory. “Yes!” she whispered under her breath, her joy almost contagious.
She then extended her hand to you, a playful glint in her eye. “Dado que estoy perdonada, creo que deberíamos empezar de nuevo. Una pizarra limpia, ¿sí?” (Since I’m forgiven, I think we should start over. Clean slate, si?)
You blinked, surprised at her gesture, but after a brief moment, you took her hand in yours. Her grip was firm but gentle, her skin warm and soft. “Alright,” you agreed, amused by the formality of it all. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Soy Alexia,” she said with a grin, shaking your hand like it was the first time you’d ever met. “Encantada, Y/N.”
The absurdity of the moment made you both smile. It was corny, yes, but endearing in a way you hadn’t expected.
For a brief second, as you shook hands, you found yourself getting lost in her hazel eyes. There was a softness there, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.
She wasn’t just the flirtatious, cocky woman you had met. She was... more. And for the first time, you found yourself truly seeing her.
Before anything could be said, the sound of Carmen entering the shop snapped you both back to reality.
You quickly let go of Alexia’s hand, almost like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.
“¡Ahh, Alexia! ¡Has vuelto!” Carmen exclaimed, pulling Alexia into a warm hug. (Aahh, Alexia! You’re back!)
Alexia returned the embrace, though she shot you a sheepish smile over Carmen’s shoulder.
When they broke apart, Carmen affectionately pinched Alexia’s cheek before pulling her head down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Era hora, niña. La tienda ha estado demasiado tranquila sin ti provocando problemas.” (It’s about time, niña. The shop’s been too quiet without you stirring up trouble.)
Carmen’s eyes flicked to the flowers in your hand, and she raised an eyebrow at Alexia. “Hmm, jacintos azules. Buena elección” she remarked, giving Alexia a playful pat on the back before disappearing into the back room. (Hmm, blue hyacinths. Good choice)
Alexia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.
You smirked at her, your eyebrow raised. “So... did you cheat on us and go to another flower shop to buy these?”
Alexia’s laugh was light as she shook her head. “No way. I bought them here, I swear, you were not here. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheater,” she joked, her voice playful yet sincere.
For some reason, you believed her. As flirtatious and free-spirited as she was, Alexia didn’t seem like the type who would betray someone’s trust.
That thought settled something inside you. You found yourself smiling again as you looked at her, the distance between you both feeling much smaller now.
——
From that moment, things between you and Alexia shifted. While her flirting persisted, it became less cocky or overconfident, but still very much her.
But became a little more softer and kinder, making you laugh instead of feeling irritated. Carmen had been right; Alexia could be genuinely sweet when she chose to be.
You never mentioned your daughter to Alexia, thinking it best to keep that part of your life separate.
If your daughter knew you were in contact with her idol daily, she’d beg to come along. Besides, despite Alexia’s more bearable demeanor, you wouldn’t want your daughter around her.
Alexia’s habit of seeing a different girl each day remained unchanged, but each time you saw her with someone new or flirting, a pang of jealousy twisted in your stomach.
One day at the store, it was just you and Alexia. She was recounting her morning training session, and the conversation flowed effortlessly.
At one point, you were telling Alexia a very interesting story. Alexia was hanging on to every word, her focus entirely on you, until the door swung open and a strikingly tall brunette entered the store.
Alexia’s gaze snapped away from you, her head turning to follow the woman’s entrance. She was instantly fixated, her attention now fully captured by the newcomer.
The woman greeted both of you, her gaze lingering a bit longer on Alexia. Seeing that Alexia had completely shifted her attention, you sighed and stopped speaking.
You resumed your task, trimming the thorns off the roses. Meanwhile, Alexia continued to stare at the woman, her eyes practically devouring her.
You walked out from behind the counter to put the roses on display, and only then did Alexia seem to realize you were still there.
“Ay, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention. Please, tell me the end of your story,” she said, following you with an apologetic look.
You sighed, trying to downplay your irritation. The shift in Alexia’s focus from you to the beautiful woman stung more than you expected. “It’s okay. You can go talk to her,” you said, avoiding eye contact.
Alexia hesitated, clearly feeling guilty. “No, really, I want to hear the end of your story,” she insisted, her gaze flickering back to the woman who was still eyeing her.
Were you jealous? Maybe a little but you had been through similar situations before and were determined not to fall into the same trap. Protecting your heart was crucial.
Despite enjoying Alexia’s company lately, you felt it was wiser to keep things minimal and friendly, especially with the feelings you were grappling with.
“No, it’s fine. Go talk to her,” you said, walking away.
Alexia, although still feeling bad, couldn’t resist and moved toward the woman.
From your position at the register, you watched as Alexia approached her with a wide smile.
You saw them chatting, smiling, and occasionally touching each other’s arms. Each gesture twisted your stomach with unease.
Eventually, as you were counting the register’s money, Alexia and the woman came back to you. The woman greeted you again, and you felt Alexia’s eyes on you, but you focused on the woman instead.
“Serán 12 euros, por favor” you told her. Before she could reach for her wallet, Alexia placed her hand over the woman’s, stopping her. (That will be 12 euros, please)
“Está bien, cariño. Yo me encargo” Alexia said, her smile gentle as she handed you the money. The woman thanked Alexia with a kiss on the cheek, making you roll your eyes mentally. (It’s okay, cariño. I’ve got it)
You accepted the money and then gave Alexia her change, avoiding her attempts at eye contact.
The woman thanked you and prepared to leave but then turned back to Alexia. “¿Podrías esperar afuera unos minutos? Ya salgo” she said, smiling. Alexia nodded and watched her leave. (Could you wait outside for a few minutes? I’ll be right out)
Alexia turned back to you, remaining silent. You looked up. “What?” you asked, confused.
“What’s the end of your story?” Alexia asked, clearly eager to know how it concluded.
You sighed. “Alexia, the girl’s waiting for you,” you said, not looking at her.
“But I want to know the end!” she said, almost pleading, her tone earnest and insistent.
“Well, you would have known if you had been listening in the first place,” you replied, your voice carrying a note of frustration.
Alexia fell silent for a moment. “I’m really sorry, I just got… distracted,” she said, her gaze drifting toward the glass door where the woman was waiting.
“Yeah, I know,” you said flatly. Alexia remained silent, and your patience wore thin. “Alexia, can you go now? The girl’s waiting, and I have a lot of work to do,” you said, exasperated.
Alexia bit her lip, looking at you as if you had done something cruel. “Yes, I’ll go. I’m sorry,” she said.
She walked toward the front door, glancing back one last time before leaving.
Once she was gone, you let out a deep breath. Damn it, you were jealous that Alexia was going out with another woman. This couldn’t be happening, you were attracted to her.
——
“Absolutely, Mia can come to the store!” Carmen responded, her voice full of warmth and enthusiasm after you mentioned the possibility of Mia joining you at work.
“Thank you so much, Carmen! She’s going to be ecstatic. She’s been asking me nonstop about it,” you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
And that was the truth—Mia had been relentless, pestering you every day with the same question. You’d been avoiding giving her a straight answer, constantly making excuses.
Mostly because of Alexia, who also frequented the store daily, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the two crossed paths.
As you and Carmen continued chatting, Alexia walked into the store, just as she always did. She approached Carmen first, who was standing closer, greeting her with a soft “Hola” and two kisses on the cheek, as was her custom.
Then, something unexpected happened. Alexia moved toward you, her eyes locking onto yours, and for the first time, she greeted you the same way, leaning in to give you two kisses on the cheek.
She had never done this before—usually, it was just a simple “Hola guapa” paired with her usual soft yet cocky smile.
“Hola guapa,” she said, her familiar words bringing a sense of comfort.
“Hola,” you responded, managing a smile, feeling the last remnants of nerves from yesterday dissolve the closer she got.
She was standing so near to you, her height forcing you to slightly tilt your head up to meet her gaze.
“How are you?” she asked softly, her voice holding a gentleness that made your heart skip for a moment.
“I’m good, and you?” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You hated to admit it, but having her so close made you feel something—safe, but also a little flustered.
“Bien,” she said, pressing her lips together as an awkward silence started to settle between the two of you. You shifted slightly, unsure of what to say next. (Good)
Finally, you broke the silence. “Did you have fun with that girl last night?” you asked, a teasing smile tugging at your lips, hoping to lighten the mood.
Alexia’s smile faltered for a split second, and she hesitated before answering, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Um... no.”
Her answer took you by surprise, and you furrowed your brow in confusion. “No?” you repeated, not expecting that.
“No,” she said again, this time more firmly but still quiet. Her eyes flickered with something—guilt, maybe? You weren’t sure.
“Did you find someone better then?” you joked, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk, trying to coax her back into her usual lighthearted mood.
But instead of laughing, her expression grew more serious. “No,” she whispered, and this time, her voice carried a weight that made you pause. “En realidad... me sentí muy culpable por lo que pasó ayer” (Actually... I felt really guilty about what happened yesterday)
You blinked, caught off guard by her sudden shift in tone. “Guilty?” you repeated, the word hanging in the air between you two.
Alexia nodded, her gaze dropping momentarily before she looked back up at you, her eyes soft and sincere.
“About..you know..ignoring you yesterday,” she said gently. “I was out of line. I let myself get carried away,I let my... urges take over,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “I’m really sorry. I know it probably hurt you, and that was never my intention.”
You stood there, processing her words, feeling the sincerity behind them. She wasn’t just apologizing; she was genuinely remorseful. You could see it in the way her eyes softened, the way her voice lowered with each sentence.
But despite her heartfelt apology, you hesitated. You weren’t sure if you could just forgive her so easily, not this time. It wasn’t the first time Alexia had done something impulsive, and you didn’t want to keep brushing it off like it was nothing.
“Alexia...” you started, unsure of how to continue. You bit your lip, avoiding her gaze for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts.
She took a small step closer, her expression pleading now. “Please, Y/N, I’m really sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I wasn’t thinking straight. You know me, sometimes I just act without thinking, but I would never want to hurt you.”
You sighed, crossing your arms as you weighed her words. “I get that, Alexia, but this isn’t the first time,” you said, meeting her eyes again. “You can’t keep doing things and expecting me to just... forgive you right away.”
She swallowed, her eyes glistening as if the weight of your words hit her hard. “I know... I know, and I hate that I keep messing things up between us. But please... this time, I mean it. I’ll be better. I promise.”
There was a long pause, both of you standing in the soft light of the store, the usual chatter and bustle around you fading into the background as you considered her words.
Finally, you sighed, shaking your head a little, feeling your resolve begin to waver. “It’s not that easy, Alexia. You can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay. I need to know you really mean it this time.”
“I do,” she insisted, her voice breaking slightly. “I swear to you, I’ll make it up to you. Just... give me one more chance, please.”
Another long pause. You could see the desperation in her eyes, the way her shoulders slumped slightly as if she was afraid you might walk away from her for good.
“Fine,” you finally said, though your voice was softer now. “But this is the last time, Alexia. I mean it. If you mess up again, that’s it. I won’t keep forgiving you.”
Alexia’s face lit up with a mix of relief and joy, and before you could react, she squealed and wrapped her arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. You let out a small squeal of surprise, not expecting her to hug you so tightly.
“Thank you, thank you!” she cried, setting you back down but not letting go just yet. “I swear, it’ll be the last time I do something stupid. I promise.”
You couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to hide it. “The last time, Alexia,” you warned, pointing a finger at her sternly.
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes, the last time,” she repeated, still grinning. Then she gave you a pleading look.
“Now, will you finally finish the story you were telling me yesterday? I’ve been dying to hear the end.”
Just as you were about to tell her, the door chimed and a few customers entered the store. Carmen shot you a knowing look, subtly signaling for your attention.
“Another time,” you said with a sigh, gently patting Alexia’s cheek before walking away. “Work calls.”
Alexia watched you go, her eyes following your every move, and a huge smile spread across her face.
But as she stood there, a strange feeling stirred in her stomach. Something unfamiliar, something she couldn’t quite place.
She shook her head, brushing off the sensation as nothing more than hunger. With a shrug, she pulled out her burner phone, scrolling through her contacts before texting one of the many girls in her phone, asking if they wanted to come over later.
——
“Are you excited to spend the day with Mommy?” you asked your daughter as you walked to the store one morning.
“Yes!” she cheered, bouncing with excitement.
Some days had passed since Alexia’s latest apology, but things had remained mostly the same.
She continued to visit the store every day, buying flowers for whichever woman she was with at the time.
Her flirtation remained gentle and tender, but something had shifted, though you couldn’t quite pinpoint what.
She frequently complimented your looks, outfits, and hairstyles, which you appreciated, even though it was rare for her to show this side of herself.
Despite this, she still made occasional risqué jokes about her various partners—and even you.
Two days ago, Alexia had been recounting a dinner she went to with friends and handed you her phone to show you pictures of the restaurant and the food. Unfortunately, she opened the “wrong album.”
You were shocked to see numerous pictures of naked women and nearly threw the phone back at her.
Alexia looked puzzled at your reaction but quickly masked it with a smirk as she glanced at her phone.
She began scrolling through the explicit pictures again, her eyes glinting with amusement.
Biting her lip, she seemed to savor the memories associated with each image, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she relived the moments she had captured.
“This is my special album,” she said with a teasing bite of her lip. “When I’m traveling and feeling lonely in a hotel room, it’s nice to have some… interesting pictures to look at.”
You made a face of disgust.
She leaned in, smirking. “Por favor, no me digas que nunca has enviado o recibido fotos como estas.” she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her elbow on the counter. (Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never sent or received pictures like these)
“That’s none of your business,” you said, feeling your face flush.
“Oooh, you didn’t deny it, and your face is all red. You’ve definitely sent some,” she said with excitement.
With a cocky grin, she added, “I can’t wait to add yours to this album. It would make it so much more interesting…and beautiful.”
You looked at her in disgust and gently pushed her face away with your hand.
“In your dreams,” you said, smiling despite yourself. Over time, her flirting and joking were becoming less bothersome.
“You know what they say: never give up on your dreams,” Alexia said smugly. “Y me conoces lo suficientemente bien como para saber que nunca lo haría. Si lo hiciera, no sería la mejor futbolista del mundo.” (And you know me well enough to know that I never do. If I did, I wouldn’t be the best woman footballer in the world)
You shook your head, amused.
“I can’t wait to see all the pretty flowers, Mommy!” Mia’s excitement was palpable as she bounced on her little feet, her eyes wide with anticipation. You looked down at her, your heart warmed by her enthusiasm.
You had chosen this particular day for Mia to accompany you, carefully planning to avoid a potential encounter with Alexia.
Alexia had informed you the day before that she would be away from the store due to a demanding schedule of training, interviews, and a photoshoot.
You knew that if Mia were to see Alexia, she might freak out since she’s basically her hero.
While Alexia was known to be good with kids—something you’d observed in several videos—her frequent appearances with new partners and her tendency to be very touchy and affectionate in public could have made the situation awkward for Mia.
Your daughter’s inquisitive nature would surely lead to a barrage of questions, which you wanted to avoid.
“This time, I want to pick my flower of the week, Mommy, okay?” Mia asked, stretching her arms up towards you, signaling that she wanted to be picked up.
“Of course, sweetheart,” you responded with a soft smile, bending down to scoop her up. She nestled her head against your shoulder as you lifted her, her small arms wrapping around your neck.
You could feel the warmth of her little body and the soft rustle of her breath against your skin.
Together, you made your way to the store, ready to enjoy a day filled with flowers and moments of bonding, free from the concerns that Alexia might have brought.
——
“Mia, would you like to help me put the flowers in the pot?” Carmen’s voice was warm and inviting.
“Yes!” Mia responded immediately, her excitement evident as she bounded off with Carmen.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at her enthusiasm as they disappeared around the corner, heading towards the back of the store.
The morning had been smooth and joyful. Mia had been gleefully exploring the shop, sniffing flowers and marveling at their colors. There had been no tantrums—a welcome relief—and you’d promised her she’ll be back at the store if she continued to behave so well.
As you worked on arranging bouquets for display, the bell above the front door jingled, signaling a new customer.
Looking up, your heart nearly stopped when you saw Alexia walk in. But she wasn’t alone—she had her arm casually draped around another woman, a relaxed smile on her face.
“Hola, guapa,” Alexia greeted you, approaching the counter. She momentarily released the woman to give you a quick kiss on both cheeks before resuming her hold around the woman’s neck.
Panic flared in your chest. “What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to keep your tone calm but failing to mask the urgency. Your eyes darted towards the back of the store, hoping Mia was still preoccupied.
Alexia’s eyebrow arched, catching your unease. “Is that how you greet me now?” she teased with a playful smirk. “Oh, and this is Isabel,” she said, introducing the woman. “Isabel, ella es Y/N.” (Isabel, this is Y/N)
You forced a polite smile at Isabel, offering a quick nod before turning back to Alexia. “You said you wouldn’t be here today. You said you will be busy all day.”
Alexia chuckled, clearly amused by your flustered state. “Plans changed. My photoshoot was canceled, so I thought I’d drop by and visit my two favorite flower girls.” She winked at you, trying to keep the gesture hidden from Isabel. “Where’s Carmen?”
Your heart raced. “She’s not here—she’s out on a delivery,” you lied quickly, hoping to get Alexia to leave. You were certain she would linger if she found out Carmen was still around.
Alexia gave you a curious look but shrugged. “Alright then...”
“Right, well, it was nice seeing you, and Isabel, fue un placer conocerte.” you said, trying to wrap things up. “I’m sure you have other plans.” (Isabel, it was lovely meeting you)
Alexia’s eyes narrowed with playful suspicion. “You’re acting strange. Are you trying to kick us out?” she asked with a grin.
“No, no, it’s just... you know, I’m sure you both have things to do,” you replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the back of the store again.
Alexia’s smirk didn’t fade. “Yeah, we do,” she agreed, looked down at Isabel.
She gave Isabel’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before intertwining their fingers and gently kissing the crown of her head.
A pang of discomfort hit you at the sight, but before you could react further, the sound of Mia’s voice cut through the tension.
“Mommy!”
You closed your eyes briefly, wishing you could rewind, you were so close…
When you opened them, Mia was rushing towards you, her small hands proudly holding a flower.
“Mommy, look! I found my flower of the week” Mia exclaimed, stopping right beside Alexia and Isabel, her face beaming with pride as she showed off her flower.
Everything seemed to slow down as Alexia’s gaze fell upon the tiny figure next to her. Her expression shifted dramatically from casual amusement to shock, her eyes widening and her mouth falling open.
It was as if she had been struck by a sudden realization.
Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke. “Mommy?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief. “Tienes una hija?” Her words were tinged with a mix of surprise and confusion, as if the idea of you having a child was completely foreign to her. (You have a daughter?)
You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat.
Mia, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, suddenly shouted in recognition, “Alexia!” Her high-pitched voice echoed through the store as she threw herself at Alexia’s legs, hugging them tightly.
Alexia stood frozen, her shock palpable as she looked down at Mia clinging to her. Her usual composure was replaced by a look of utter bewilderment.
“I love you so much! You’re the best player in the whole world!” Mia declared, her tiny arms wrapped around Alexia’s legs.
Alexia’s expression softened at Mia’s affection. Though still stunned, there was a growing tenderness in her eyes.
Slowly, she reached down, placing her hand gently on the back of Mia’s head and stroking her hair. “Thank you,” she said softly, still grappling with the surprise.
You stepped in and carefully pried Mia away from Alexia’s legs, lifting her onto your hip.
Despite Mia’s tight grip, you managed to ease her into your arms, hoping to shield her from the awkwardness of the situation.
“Mommy, look, it’s Alexia! We see her on TV when she plays her games!” Mia said excitedly, pointing at Alexia, who remained visibly shaken.
Alexia’s gaze turned to you, her eyes searching for answers. The realization that you had kept such a significant part of your life from her was evident in the way she stared, her expression a mix of hurt and confusion.
“What’s your name, pequeña?” Alexia asked Mia gently, her disbelief still evident.
“Mia!” your daughter responded enthusiastically.
Alexia offered a strained smile. “Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m a friend of your mommy’s.”
Mia gasped and turned to you with wide eyes. “Mommy, you never told me Alexia was your friend!”
Alexia gave a quiet chuckle, though her gaze remained fixed on you. “Y tampoco me contó nada sobre ti.” she added in Spanish, hoping that you daughter does not understand, her tone more serious now. The subtle accusation in her words was clear, despite her attempt at a smile. (And she never told me about you either)
Sensing the tension, Mia pointed to the intertwined hands of Alexia and Isabel. “Is that your girlfriend?” she asked innocently.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. “Mia...” you began, but Alexia merely laughed, her discomfort evident.
“Mia, it’s not polite to ask those questions,” you said gently but firmly.
“Sorry, Mommy... Sorry, Alexia,” Mia pouted, quickly shifting her focus to something else. “Did you hurt yourself?” she asked Alexia with concern.
Alexia looked puzzled. “No, why?”
Mia pointed to her own neck. “You have a bruise here,” she said matter-of-factly.
Your heart sank as you noticed the hickey on Alexia’s neck. Her eyes widened, and she quickly covered it with her hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.
“Oh, that? Yeah, I... got hurt playing,” Alexia mumbled, clearly flustered. Isabel, standing silently beside her, smirked at the scene.
You suspected Isabel might not understand the full conversation but clearly grasped what was happening right in this instance.
Mia nodded solemnly. “You need to be more careful, Alexia. Right, Mommy?”
You couldn’t help but smile at Mia’s concern, which mirrored your own words of caution. “Yes, sweetheart. Alexia needs to be more careful.”
Alexia met your gaze, understanding the underlying message. She gave a small nod, acknowledging the reprimand.
“You’re right, Mia. I’ll be more careful,” Alexia said, her tone softening as she pinched Mia’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from your daughter.
The moment of levity was short-lived as an uncomfortable silence settled over the group.
Mia, in her innocent way, suddenly blurted out, “Mommy says you’re hot!”
Your face flushed with embarrassment at Mia’s remark.
Alexia’s smirk widened, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, really?” she teased, clearly enjoying your discomfort.
While watching a game on TV with Mia the other day, you might have commented that Alexia looked "hot" when she appeared on screen, noting her sweaty, glistening skin, messy hair, and visible abs, completely forgetting that Mia was nearby and could hear you.
You felt your face grow even warmer. “Mia, that’s not... what I meant,” you stammered, but Mia continued, oblivious to the embarrassment she was causing.
“You said it when we were watching her game, Mommy. You said, ‘Oh my god, she’s so hot,’” Mia mimicked your tone perfectly, making you wish you could disappear.
Alexia’s smirk grew, clearly relishing the moment. “Well, I guess I should be flattered,” she said playfully, enjoying your discomfort.
“I meant... you were playing really well,” you said, trying to explain, but Alexia wasn’t letting it go easily.
“Oh, is that what you meant?” Alexia’s teasing tone only heightened your embarrassment.
Before you could respond, Mia added, “Mommy, does that mean Alexia needs to take her clothes off since she’s hot?”
You groaned inwardly, your face now burning with mortification. “Mia! No, that’s not what I meant at all,” you said, your voice rising as you struggled to regain control.
Alexia tried to stifle her laughter. “It’s okay, Mia. I’m fine just the way I am,” she said, winking at your daughter, which only added to your embarrassment.
Clearing your throat, you tried to redirect the conversation. “Alright, Mia, say goodbye to Alexia. She has things to do, and you need to get back to Carmen.”
Alexia’s brow furrowed. “So Carmen is here? Not on a delivery?” she asked, realizing you had lied.
“Yeah…” you admitted, and Alexia nodded, accepting it.
Mia reached out her arms towards Alexia, who looked at you for permission. You nodded, and Alexia took her in her arms.
Mia gave Alexia a warm farewell hug, her small arms encircling her. “Goodbye, Alexia. And goodbye to Alexia’s girlfriend,” she added, waving at Isabel, who responded with a courteous smile.
You let out a sigh, reflecting on the unintended label Mia had given Isabel.
As Mia turned and ran back towards Carmen, Alexia’s expression shifted from playful to serious.
She turned to you, her eyes lingering with unspoken questions. “We’ll talk tomorrow,please come to my place..you know where it is” she said softly, the weight of her words evident in her tone.
You nodded, feeling the gravity of the conversation that awaited you. There was a lot left unsaid, especially now that Mia’s existence was no longer a secret.
As Alexia and Isabel left the store, you let out a long, weary sigh. You leaned against the counter, feeling emotionally drained from the unexpected turn of events. Tomorrow’s conversation with Alexia loomed large, and you knew it would be a challenging discussion.
And, of course, you’d need to have a talk with Mia about the importance of boundaries—and perhaps a bit about keeping some things to herself as well.
——
The next morning, you headed to Alexia’s apartment with Mia in tow. Since it was a Sunday, María was off, and Carmen was visiting family, you had no option but to bring Mia along.
When you told Mia about the visit, she was ecstatic and insisted on wearing the Alexia jersey you had bought her a few weeks ago. She proudly put it on, her excitement evident.
As you arrived at Alexia’s door, you crouched down to Mia’s level. “Okay, Mia,” you began gently, “let’s remember to behave today, alright?” Mia’s face lit up as she nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mommy, I’ll behave,” she promised, and you planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
With a mix of nerves and anticipation, you knocked on the door. The last time you were here, Alexia had been with two other women, and the encounter had ended on a sour note. You were hoping this visit would go more smoothly.
Alexia answered the door almost immediately, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Hola, guapa,” she greeted you, her tone soft and inviting.
You returned the greeting with a smile, “Hola, Alexia.” From beside you, Mia’s small voice piped up with an enthusiastic “Hola, Alexia,” and she waved excitedly.
Alexia’s smile widened as she crouched down to Mia’s level. “Hola, nena,” she said affectionately, lifting Mia into her arms.
Mia wrapped her small arms around Alexia’s neck. When they separated, Mia proudly pointed to her shirt and said, “Look, Alexia, I’m wearing your shirt today!”
Alexia’s eyes twinkled with delight as she laughed softly. “Yes! That’s a fantastic choice,” she said, giving Mia a high-five, which Mia eagerly reciprocated.
You couldn’t help but smile at the heartwarming interaction between them.
“Come on in,” Alexia invited, opening the door wider and gesturing for you both to enter.
As you stepped inside, a small dog came bounding towards you, tail wagging furiously.
“Puppy!” Mia squealed, dropping to her knees as the dog jumped up and began licking her face. Mia’s laughter filled the room, and you found yourself laughing too.
You joined Mia on the floor, gently petting the playful puppy. “This is Nala,” Alexia said, introducing the dog with a smile.
“She’s adorable,” you commented, reaching out to give Nala a gentle scratch behind the ears.
“Sí, igual que su mamá,” Alexia said with a smirk, adding a playful tone in Spanish that made you look up at her and shake your head with a soft smile on your face. (Yeah, just like her mom)
“What that mean?” Mia asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“It means she’s as adorable as you are,” Alexia explained with a chuckle, ruffling Mia’s hair, which caused Mia to giggle even more.
Afterward, Alexia offered you both drinks, and Mia made her way to the living room, settling in to watch TV while Nala curled up contentedly on her lap.
You and Alexia sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee in silence. You weren’t sure how to start the conversation, but Alexia quickly took the initiative.
“So… you have a daughter,” Alexia said, glancing towards Mia.
“Yes,” you replied, nodding.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, confusion and hurt evident in her eyes.
You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. The truth—that you didn’t want Alexia near your daughter due to her reputation—seemed too harsh.
You looked away, avoiding her gaze as you fumbled for a response. Alexia seemed to understand your discomfort.
“You didn’t want me to meet her, did you?” she asked softly.
You didn’t respond, so she continued.
“I told you I wouldn’t be at the store this day, that’s why you brought Mia that exact day, right? Because you didn’t want me to see her?” Her voice held a trace of hurt.
You stared down at your coffee and nodded.
“And that’s also why you were so eager for me to leave? So I wouldn’t have the chance to meet her?” she persisted.
Once again, you didn’t speak, only nodding in confirmation.
“And you even lied about Carmen being on delivery duty to get me out of the store?” she asked.
You nodded again, meeting her gaze and seeing the hurt in her eyes.
“But why? I thought we were friends. I’ve shared so much about my life with you, and we’ve spent a lot of time together. Why keep Mia from me?” she asked, a mix of confusion and sadness in her voice.
“I... you know... you have a reputation. I didn’t want my daughter around you,” you admitted, noting the pain and disbelief on her face.
“Especially in the beginning, when we first met. You were insufferable and disrespectful, and I didn’t want my daughter exposed to that,” you continued.
Alexia nodded slowly, though her eyes still reflected hurt.
“I understand you wanted to protect your daughter from me,” she said. “I can be a lot at times.” Her voice carried a sad resignation.
You felt a pang of guilt seeing her so down, especially after witnessing how gentle and affectionate she was with Mia. You realized how wrong you had been.
“I’m really sorry,” you said, feeling deeply remorseful. Alexia reached across the table and took your hand in hers.
“No, don’t be. You’re a mother, and I understand that mothers will do anything to protect their children,” she said, her eyes meeting yours with a comforting warmth.
“Yes, and I was wrong. You were nothing but kind and loving towards Mia. As you can see, she absolutely adores you,” you told her with a gentle smile, which Alexia returned.
Her hand remained in yours, her touch warm and reassuring.
“So... what about Mia’s father or another mother?” Alexia asked cautiously, her tone tentative.
“Oh, the father isn’t in the picture anymore. He was terrible to me—cheated on me and left when he found out I was pregnant with Mia,” you confessed, feeling a wave of sadness.
Alexia shook her head in disapproval, her expression one of sympathy.
“That’s also why…” you started but trailed off.
Alexia’s eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Go on,” she urged gently.
You hesitated, knowing it was time to reveal everything and lay all the cards on the table.
“That’s also why I didn’t want you to know about her or meet her. You reminded me of him,” you began, and Alexia’s face showed clear shock, her eyebrows knitting together.
“He used to flirt with other women, even right in front of me. He was always so cocky and confident, never taking anything seriously,” you continued.
“When I snapped at you the other day, it wasn’t just about you—it was about him too. I used that moment to say everything I wished I’d said to him,” you added, your voice trembling as tears formed in your eyes, which you quickly wiped away, not wanting Mia to see you upset.
Alexia immediately stood up, gently pulling you with her.
“Mia, your mommy and I need to step into the bathroom for a moment. Is it okay if you stay here by yourself for a bit?” she asked Mia softly. Mia, absorbed in the TV, nodded without much interest.
Alexia guided you to her bathroom, closing the door behind you both. She enveloped you in a comforting embrace, your face nestled against her neck while her hands supported you—one at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist.
You let your tears flow freely, a release you hadn’t allowed yourself in a while. It felt cathartic to finally let everything out.
Alexia murmured soothing words into your ear, holding you close as you cried.
As you began to calm down, Alexia spoke softly. “You and Mia deserve so much more than that. I promise you, I’m not like him. I may be confident and a bit cocky, but I will never leave you. As long as you want me in your lives, I’ll be here.”
Her words warmed your heart. You pulled back slightly to meet her gaze. “Thank you,” you whispered, and Alexia gently rested her forehead against yours, offering a soft smile and cupping your cheeks.
The closeness made your heart race. Being this near to Alexia, after seeing her with other women, was a new and intense experience for you.
The memory of those other women made you pull back quickly, sniffing and smiling softly as you wiped your tears away.
“Thank you again, Alexia,” you said, drying your face.
Alexia smiled gently. “No need to thank me.” She then opened the bathroom door, and together, you both returned to the living room where Mia was waiting.
Alexia had convinced you to stay for lunch, and now the three of you were gathered around the kitchen table, enjoying bolognese pasta together.
Alexia and Mia were engaged in an animated conversation about football.
“Mommy said that one day, I’m going to be better than you,” Mia announced proudly, pointing her fork at Alexia.
“Did she now? Is that true?” Alexia asked, raising an eyebrow at Mia before turning her gaze to you with a playful smile.
“Yes, I did. Because it’s true, right, Mia?” you said, gently poking her sides. Mia giggled and looked up at you, her face glowing with joy.
“Yes, Mommy! I’m going to be the best when I grow up!” she exclaimed, and you couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Mommy!” Mia squealed with laughter, trying to wriggle away as you planted more kisses on her giggling face.
Alexia watched the scene with a soft smile, that familiar warmth spreading through her stomach, the same feeling she’d experienced the last time she’d apologized to you.
After lunch, you and Alexia tackled the dishes together while Mia, worn out from all the excitement, napped peacefully in Alexia’s bedroom.
“You know,” Alexia started, her voice carrying a smug tone as she stood by your side, drying the plates. “Now it all makes sense.”
You glanced at her, confused. “What makes sense?”
Her smirk grew wider, and you could already feel the teasing energy coming. “You always gave me MILF energy,” she said, eyeing you up and down like she was enjoying a private joke.
You felt heat rush to your face, but before you could react, she was already grinning even more, leaning in like she had a secret to share. “Especially when you get all serious and bossy with me. God, I love it when you’re bossy,” she added, lowering her voice. “It’s so hot.”
You didn’t waste a second. You nudged her hard with your hip, splashing water in her direction. “Don’t make me slap you,” you warned her, but she only laughed harder, loving every second of this.
Alexia recovered quickly, her smirk firmly back in place. “And by the way,” she added, wiping a plate with a casual air, “don’t think I forgot about you calling me hot.”
You froze, glancing at her quickly. “I—I did not call you hot,” you said, trying to sound firm, even though you knew you were lying through your teeth.
She chuckled, the sound deep and amused. “Oh, really? That’s not what Mia said yesterday. Maybe we should wake her up and ask her again.” She made a move toward the hallway, clearly teasing, and you immediately stepped in, placing your hand over her mouth.
“Shut up,” you muttered, your face burning as she laughed under your palm. You could feel her lips curve into a grin as she brushed your hand off with ease, cockier than ever.
There was a brief moment of silence between you two as you continued with the dishes, but the tension was palpable. Then, out of nowhere, Alexia’s voice broke the quiet.
“You know I’m not giving up, right?” Her tone was playful but serious, the teasing edge never quite leaving.
You turned to face her, already knowing where this was headed. “Still not having sex with you, Alexia,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in defiance.
Her eyes darkened with that familiar mischief. She stepped a little closer, the smugness practically oozing from her.
“Come on, you think I’m hot, don’t deny it. Mia even confirmed it. And don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at me,” she added, her voice dipping just enough to make you shift where you stood.
You rolled your eyes, but your heart skipped a beat. “I think you’re hot, you think I’m hot, why not just… be hot together?” She shrugged, her expression impossibly smug. “In a bed. Naked.”
Tired of her arrogance, you decided it was time to play her own game.
You sighed dramatically. “Okay,” you said, making it sound like you were giving in.
Alexia’s cocky grin faltered for just a second as her eyes widened, surprised by your sudden agreement.
You stepped closer to her, and for once, she seemed speechless, unsure of what to do with her usual bravado.
As you closed the distance, pressing yourself fully against her, you felt her body stiffen, her breath hitching.
You took her hands, placing them around your waist, dangerously close to your butt. Her eyes searched yours, confused, intrigued, and undoubtedly turned on.
Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your arms around her neck, leaning in until your lips grazed the shell of her ear. “How about tomorrow night?” you whispered, your voice sultry and slow.
“You can pick me up from work… take me back here… and you can fuck me… all. night. long.” You paused after each word, letting the sexual tension linger between you.
You felt Alexia’s sharp intake of breath, her body instinctively reacting to your closeness.
The faintest moan escaped her lips, her face pressing into the crook of your neck as if she couldn’t control the heat rushing through her.
Her hands moved lower, finally squeezing your butt gently, and you could feel her struggling to maintain her composure.
“And you know what the best part would be?” you whispered, your lips barely brushing her skin, your fingers lightly tracing the back of her neck.
Alexia, still caught up in the moment, could barely manage a hoarse, “What?”
Her hands kept caressing you butt, her body betraying just how much she was enjoying the moment.
You resisted the urge to push her hands away, knowing full well you enjoyed it too. But you had a point to make.
You leaned in even closer, letting her feel your breath against her ear. “The best part is…” you paused, feeling her anticipation grow. “This will all be happening… in your dreams.”
And with that, you pulled away completely, leaving Alexia standing there, utterly stunned, her jaw practically on the floor.
You smirked, enjoying the rare moment where you had the upper hand. “I’m gonna go check on Mia,” you said casually, as if you hadn’t just left Alexia breathless and flustered.
Alexia stood there, unable to speak, her mind reeling from what had just happened. She had always been confident, always in control, but you had completely turned the tables on her.
She was used to being the one who teased, the one who left others speechless—but now, you had her feeling things she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Wow,” she finally muttered under her breath, her heart still racing. She had been with plenty of women before, but none had made her feel like this—none had gotten under her skin the way you just had.
The way your fingers had trailed down her neck, the soft whisper of your voice in her ear… it had her unraveling in a way she hadn’t expected.
That familiar warm sensation bubbled up in her stomach again, the same one she’d felt earlier at the table.
She could still feel the ghost of your touch on her skin as she hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face in an attempt to cool herself down.
But the truth was, she was hot. You’d left her wanting more—and for the first time, Alexia wasn’t quite sure how to regain the upper hand.
——
“Thank you, Alexia,” you said as you got back to your apartment.
After your hot moment in the kitchen, Mia had woken up, and it was time to head home. Alexia insisted on escorting you, so she, Mia, Nala, and you all made the walk to your apartment together.
During the walk, Alexia and Mia chatted animatedly about everything and anything, their laughter and conversation filling the air until you reached your front door.
But Alexia also stayed silent with you.Only talking with Mia.
“Bye-bye, Alexia! I had so much fun with Nala. Can I see her again?” Mia asked, her little arms wrapped around Alexia’s shoulders as they both looked down at Nala.
“Of course, nena. We can definitely arrange another playdate if your mommy agrees,” Alexia said, glancing up at you with a hopeful look. You nodded in agreement.
“Okay, and I want to see you again too. You’re my best friend now!” Mia exclaimed, snuggling her face into Alexia’s neck. Alexia smiled and stood up, with Mia clinging to her like a koala.
“You’re my best friend too, nena” Alexia said softly.
“Mommy is our best friend too! We can’t forget her,” Mia suddenly said, as if realizing she had almost overlooked you. She pulled her face away from Alexia’s neck and stretched out an arm.
“Mommy, come join the hug too!” Mia said with innocent enthusiasm. You smiled warmly as you stepped into the group hug.
As Alexia’s free arm wrapped around your waist, you draped your arm around both of them, leaning your head on Alexia’s shoulder.
Alexia looked down at the two girls in her arms, and a deep sense of contentment washed over her. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.
The touch of her lips sent a pleasant shiver through you. You looked up at her, smiling gently, and she returned your smile with equal warmth.
As the hug ended, Mia gave Alexia one last kiss on the cheek and a pat on Nala’s head before heading inside.
“Thanks again,” you said with a smile. “You’ve been so quiet with me. Did something happen?”
Alexia rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, you turned me on really badly, and now I have to go home and take care of it myself,” she said, a groan escaping her.
“Oh, come on. I’m sure you could call one of the women in your contact list, and she’d be at your place in ten minutes,” you teased.
“Yes, I could,” Alexia said with a smug grin, “Pero preferiría imaginarte conmigo en lugar de con otra mujer. Podría llamarla por tu nombre por accidente” (but I’d rather imagine you with me than another woman. I might accidentally call her by your name.)
“Okayyyy,” you said, laughing.
“I have a new goal,” Alexia announced suddenly.
“What’s that?” you asked, intrigued.
“My new goal is to take you on a date,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“So it’s not just about getting me into your bed?” you asked, amused.
“Bueno, sí, pero quiero hacer las cosas bien. Mi nuevo objetivo es convencerte de que salgas conmigo.”she clarified. (Well, yes, but I want to do things properly. My new goal is to convince you to go on a date with me)
“I’m curious to see how you plan to achieve that,” you said with a grin.
“I’ll treat you well and completely stop flirting with or looking at other women,” she said confidently.
“You? Stopping from flirting with other women? Alexia Putellas?” you said, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
“Sí, definitivamente puedo hacer eso.”she said, feigning offense. (Yes, I can totally do that)
“Sure…” you said, still unconvinced.
“Alright, let’s make a deal. If I don’t flirt with, sleep with, or even look at another woman for a month, you agree to go on a date with me,” she proposed, determination in her voice.
You considered it for a moment, knowing she might find it challenging. “Okay,” you agreed.
“¿De verdad? ¿No es solo otra broma?”she asked, surprised. (Really? It’s not just another joke?)
“No joke. One month, no women, and I’ll go on that date,” you confirmed, and she cheered.
“Genial! Bueno, ahora necesito ir a cuidar de mí misma, si sabes a qué me refiero.”she said with a suggestive wink and you laughed a little. (Great! Well, now I need to go and take care of myself, if you know what I mean)
“Bye, Alexia,” you said.
“Adios, guapa,” she replied, waving as she walked away.
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Jason with his time in the league of assassins
Talia walks into the small modest room where Jason is livening in while he gets back on his feet, having a bunch of brain functions recovered takes a while to get used to. he's been doing physical therapy and occupational therapy for the last couple months, his dexterity isn't exactly back yet.
Talia: Jason? what are you doing?
Jason: well there's this thing I always wanted to try called stop motion animation, and well you got some lego's for Dami but he's a bit too small for them so.. I took them and have been animating. I was bored in-between everything, you don't have any good books I haven't already read.
Talia: well that is an acceptable pass time, what are you making?
Jason: oh it's a weird comedy spoof for kids about batman and the joker being nemesis's, I wanted to make it for Dami since well he doesn't know much about him or the other ones and he's only 3 and well it doesn't seem like much but the time I'm done he'll be 5 and be able to enjoy it. i don't know talia I'm bored and want to make something for him.
Talia: very well, if you so wish. I can get some people in to help you make it if you wish.
Jason: really?
Talia: yes, I can. it does sound like a nice gift.
Jason: oh thank you!
Many months of therapy complete, he starts to retrain and regain all the fighting skills he lost and learn some new ones. in the meanwhile, Jason and 3 other people have been making a complete feature film for Damian who's just turned 4, they were about halfway done and it was looking good.
Talia: so how's it coming along?
Jason: it's been hard and hurts like a bitch, but I'm getting better at flips!
Talia: no. not that, I mean the movie?
Jason: oh it's halfway done! me and the one man and 2 women are doing great we reshot the opening, and we are more than 68% done! so it will be ready by Dami's birthday.
Talia: he will enjoy it I believe.
Jason: of course he would, it's his first ever kids movie!
Talia: why yes it is!
many many many more months pass and it becomes Dami's 5th birthday and Jason and his crew had wrapped up, the voice acting was done mostly by himself, and the crew but he asked some of the league for other voices. eventually after scoring and mixing they met the deadline. they set up the league theatre and put the movie on.
lego batman: [voice over] Black. All important movies start with a black screen... And music... Edgy, scary music that would make a parent or studio executive nervous... And logos... Really long and dramatic logos... Warner Bros. Why not "Warner Brothers"? I don't know... Hmm... Not sure what LOA does, but that logo is macho. I dig it... Okay. Get yourself ready for some... reading. "If you want to make the world a better place, take a look at yourself and make a change. Hooo." No. I said that. Batman is very wise. I also have huge pecs and a nine-pack. Yeah, I've got an extra ab. Now, let's start the movie.
Dami: momma? what's the movie about?
talia: your father
lego Alfred Pennyworth: Were you looking at the old family pictures again?
lego Batman: At the what? The old family... Oh, yes! I see what you mean. Look at that! The old gang. Yeah. No, I wasn't.
lego Alfred Pennyworth: I see. Sir, if you don't mind my saying, I'm a little concerned. I've seen you go through similar phases in 2001 and 2006 and 2008 and 2005 and 1997 and 1995 and 1992 and 1989 and that weird one in 1999. Do you want to talk about how you're feeling right now?
lego Batman: I don't talks about feelings, Alfred. I don't have any, I've never seen one. I'm a night-stalking, crime-fighting vigilante, and a heavy metal rapping machine. I don't feel anything emotionally, except for rage. 24/7, 365, at a million percent. And if you think that there's something behind that, then you're crazy. Good night, Alfred.
lego Alfred Pennyworth: Sir, it's morning..
Talia: *laughs*
Dami: *chuckles*
Jason: *smiles with accomplishment*
lego Batman: [Batman's song] Who never skips leg day?
Chorus: Batman!
lego Batman: Who always pays their taxes?
lego Batman, Chorus: Not Batman!
Talia: *wails with laughter*
Dami: what are taxes?
Jason: you'll know when you get older don't worry about it
The lego Joker: Are you seriously saying there is nothing, nothing special about our relationship?
lego Batman: Whoa. Let me tell you something, J-bird. Batman doesn't do 'ships.
The lego Joker: [Confused] What?
lego Batman: As in "relationships." There is no "us." Batman and Joker are not a thing. I don't need you. I don't need anyone. You mean nothing to me. No one does.
Talia: that is your father's arch-nemesis the joker
Dami: oh okay
Jason: please kill him for me
dami: okay Jason, i will avagange, e-venge, avenge your honour!
Jason: you have no idea what that means to me buddy *wipes away a tear*
Lego Robin: My name's Richard Grayson, but all the kids at the orphanage call me Dick.
Lego Batman: Well, children can be cruel.
Jason: when I first heard dick's name I unironically thought everyone was just calling him a dickhead so much that the name dick stuck, but nope turns out it's short for Richard. he even changed his name to dick, I personally would never. but he pulls it off flawlessly. *chuckles*
talia: I did not know mr Grayson preferred to be called Dick.
Dami: who's dick then?
Jason: oh he's your older brother.
Lego Robin: What? [Sees Batcave]
Lego Robin: It's the Batcave! Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygooo-! [Bumps into Batman]
Lego Robin: Batman, woah!
Lego Batman: You're darn right, woah!
Lego Robin: Wait, does Batman live in Bruce Wayne's basement?
Lego Batman: No, Bruce Wayne lives in Batman's attic.
Talia: *DIES OF LAUGHTER* oh Jason this is amazing.
Jason: I wish to impress!
Lego Robin: Hey, I was thinking. If I'm gonna be a superhero, and go on awesome superhero missions like this one, can we use code names? Mine can be Robin.
Lego Batman: I'm sorry, say that again?
Lego Robin: Robin.
Lego Batman: As in the small, Midwestern frail bird?
Lego Robin: Yeah, and I already have a catch phrase. Tweet, tweet, on the street.
Lego Batman: Hard pass.
Lego Robin: And a song. [singing]
Lego Robin: Fly, Robin, fly.
Lego Batman: Harder pass.
dami: *laughs so hard he coughs*
talia: habbibi careful, don't laugh so hard you will hurt yourself
Jason: honestly yeah you can hurt yourself badly.
LegoRobin: Wow! Look, it's the Bat-Sub!
Lego Batman: Wait, don't touch that!
Lego Robin: Over there! It's the Bat-Space Shuttle!
Lego Batman: Please keep your hands off that.
Lego Robin: Look, it's the Bat-Zeppelin!
Lego Batman: Don't touch that, either!
Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Train!
Lego Batman: No!
Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Kayak!
Lego Batman: No!
Lego Robin: It's the Bat-Dune Buggy!
Lego Batman: No!
Lego Robin: It's the Bat... Shark Repellent?
Lego Batman: [pause] Uh, actually, you can touch that. It's completely useless.
Talia: shark repelent is actually a quite useful invention why is bruce beloved not recognising it's full potential?
Jason: keep watching
Dami: does father have all those things?
Jason: sure does!
Lego Batman: We are gonna steal the Phantom Zone projector from Superman.
Lego Robin: [frowns] Steal?
Lego Batman: Yeah. We have to right a wrong. And sometimes, in order to right a wrong, you have to do a wrong-right. Gandhi said that.
Lego Robin: Are we sure Gandhi said that?
Lego Batman: I'm paraphrasing.
Talia: *laughs*
Dami: *laughs so hard he starts coughing AGAIN*
Jason: ghandi so said that btw.
lego Jim Gordon: [sees Robin for the first time] Who is that?
lego Robin: Hi, police man!
lego Jim Gordon: Is that your son?
Lego Robin: Yes, I am!
Lego Batman: [laughs nervously] Is that my son? No, that's just weird.
Lego Jim Gordon: It's weirder if it's not your son.
Jason: this interaction is based off an actual interaction between jimmy and Dick.
[batman and robin arrive at the fortress of solitude]
lego Batman: Hey, kid!
lego Robin: Yes, sir?
lego Batman: You're super nimble, right?
lego Robin: I sure am!
lego Batman: And small?
lego Robin: Very.
lego Batman: And quiet?
lego Robin: [whispering] When I desire to be.
lego Batman: And 110% expendable?
lego Robin: I don't know what that means, but okay!
Jason: bruce really did not know how to deal with a 11 year old child hellbent on murdering a mob boss, so he kept bringing him along on incredibly dangerous missions, it was always fine in the end but this sort of situation happened once.
Talia: really?
Jason: the expendable part was from a wayne tech family event, and they crushed it. but dick had to sacrifice himself to help bruce win, it was so funny. I was there.
Lego Batman: White. All important movies end with a white screen.
Talia, jason, the other 70 league of assassin members and Damien break out into applause for the movie.
Jason: THANK YOU ALL, but special thanks to Gerald, and lily and Rin!!!! I WOULD HAVE NEVNER FINISHED IT WITHOUT YOU THANK YOUUUUUUU
the audience bursts into a large uproar of applause.
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intersex-questions · 3 days
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as a perisex person, how could i be the best advocate for intersex people i can be? i want to talk about intersex issues but i dont wanna talk over actual intersex people
I think every intersex person you ask this question to will give you different answers. First, I'd like to direct you to InterACT. They have a lot of good resources and information about being intersex and intersex advocacy.
Reading up on intersex issues especially from intersex perspectives is something that I think is a great thing to do. Keep up on news about us, about laws and legislature being passed about us. If there is intersexist laws/legislature being passed where you live, do what you can to protest it, spread awareness, etc. Likewise, support laws/legislature going into place that support intersex people.
In my opinion, one of the best ways to be an advocate/ally is through the "small" things. If you hear someone saying something intersexist, whether it's intentional or not, speak up and correct them. Inform people about how sex isn't a binary or correct their ideas they have on the sex binary. And I'd like to be clear I am not saying to argue with people. Especially not on the Internet. It's likely to not do very much. If people aren't willing to change or learn, you cannot force them to.
Be there for intersex people! If you know someone is being intersexist to someone (whether or not they're intersex), speak up for them or defend them. If it's a situation where you aren't able to, talk to them after the fact and provide them a safe space. Be someone who intersex people can feel safe coming to about their issues or as someone who is on their side.
And truthfully, I think something a lot of people need to learn to fear less is "speaking over" X group of people--not that it isn't an issue or that it doesn't happen, but a lot of the time, the things people are afraid of doing when it comes to speaking over is actually useful advocacy. "Speaking over" is when voices from people who aren't part of X group are prioritized over those who are. This would be if perisex people were the primary voices and speakers when it comes to talking about someone's intersex experiences. Or correcting or policing someone on what they say their experiences are.
You aren't going to be a perfect ally or advocate. No one is able to do that. What matters is you keep trying, learning, and listening. If people harass you or bully you over your mistakes after you've already learned from them, that isn't right of them. As an ally of any group, you're probably going to experience people from that group who think you're being an ally in the wrong way. For example, I am inclusive when it comes to things like being transgender and intersex. For being transgender, I do not believe you need to have dysphoria to be trans, I support nonbinary identities (even the "weird" ones), etc. But there are groups of trans people who think that in itself is transphobic and that there are correct ways of being trans. I believe being a trans+ ally would mean supporting ALL trans people, regardless of how they are trans, but those people who restrict and exclude who is and isn't allowed to be trans would call allies who support that transphobic. Being an ally is active work. It isn't always going to be easy. And that's okay! Like I said, keep trying.
I apologize if this didn't answer very well, and other intersex people are more than welcome to weigh in on their own thoughts on how to be a good ally/advocate. And I am always welcome to more specific questions!
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crescentfool · 11 months
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beaming everyone on the dashh with good brain day vibes!!! i hope that you all can remember to extend self-compassion to yourself whenever you're feeling down about something 💙
#lizzy speaks#the human brain works in such profound ways i think#lately i've been thinking about that post that was like 'you will always be your oldest friend take care of yourself'#it's definitely a sentiment i agree with and i appreciate how it emphasizes the importance of extending compassion to yourself#you wouldn't say such hurtful things to your friends right? (or at least i'd hope so)#so why would you say it to yourself?#you are your own friend too. and i think everyone has a beautiful soul within themselves. nurture it! water it! feed it good thoughts.#basically i wish everyone a 'i hope that your brain is not your own enemy but rather a friend that you can find comfort in'#things will work themselves out with time. there's beauty in life and you will find small delights to cherish!! i am manifesting it for u!!#and for those who find it difficult to transition from a self-critical mindset to one that's more compassionate and nonjudgmental#i truly think that with time you will be able to rewire your brain to be kinder to yourself. i'm proud of you for taking any first steps :)#there are times in which it feels counterintuitive to go against habits that feel hard-wired... but brains are very malleable littel guys-#with such a wonderful capacity for changing and learning new things. so i hope everyone can learn to be their own best friend!#not to undermine the importance of a support network ofc. that's good too and im all for that!! but i hope everyone remembers to be kind-#not only to others but also to themselves!! you're going to do great out there!! i love you all!!#ive just been thinking about this a lot... i needed to get it out there. you all shine so brightly!!! we shall be fine!!! have a good week!#sorry if this is out of nowhere but if there's anything about me you should know it's that i'm the 'hey dont cry 8 billion people on earth-#ok?' post. idk i just find great joy in knowing others are out there thriving and finding a daily delight yknow i love humanity!!
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jatlokgwo · 2 months
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dont feel guilt about change. the art made before the changes will still be there, its not a waste, think of it like a picture of you then, or now, and look back and see how much youve changed. oh and you can always go back on the new design thing of course so theres that too. i hope u feel good and okay about it :}
frames this ask in my brain anon your so right
the old design is still really important to me but if each design is who i was then ive been slowly looping back to a happier version of me that i thought died but diffrent in a good way realizing that makes me feel alot better about likeing it thank you!!! ^^
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i really do love practicing 🎻
#i'm in music school so now it's a much more significant source of my already very significant fears#but practicing only feels stressful when i don't do it enough and i'm trying to 'catch up'#some weeks fly past me like hurricanes and i get to my lesson and i can't say i've made any progress and that fucks me up#and i don't think that's ever going away- like i'll always have weeks like that cuz everyone has bad days and bad weeks#from time to time#but when i plan correctly (which is becoming more and more the norm for me) my practicing is something im really proud of :)#i have a System. i didn't do very well before i had it and i would die without it now.#i get excited about learning! i get excited having realizations abt things to change or work on when i practice!#it feels experimenty a lot of the time and i like it!!!#i have a lot of catching up to do in terms of comparing myself to others but i'm not here for them i'm here for me#i will do my best and i will learn from others of course but my goals are to make my Me better first and worry abt other people later#i won't lose sight of that#<- and when it doesn't feel experimenty it can be calming to just be like okay ik what i need to do now just. Practice. Repeat.#i mean music is a fucking rollercoaster and sometimes you are at the bottom and i hate that but it comes w the territory#sometimes you're just Stuck but you do get past it and in those moments i just try to think back to previous times ive felt like that#ive felt horribly shitty before and gotten through it and come out the other side slightly better!#life is like that i think#anyways. hashtag iris loves music and being a musician 🙄 nothing new over here hehe
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lambentplume · 5 months
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yapping aimlessly tonight
#jaerambles#i just have a lot in my brain!!#anyway i keep getting asked what i would want to do in an ideal situation. if money and time and stuff were no object#i really do think it would be just aimless learning.#like learning new crafts. reading without having to respond to it. sponging up knowledge without the expectation to Say Things#it feels a bit. selfish.#but i don’t really have an endpoint to reach nor do i have something to say. like i just want to acquire experiences and learn things#i get really nervous when people ask me what makes me happy because i don’t know. i know what makes me uncomfortable and scared though#i would also like the ability to just change my situation a lot as much as i want. moving to new places and leaving when i don’t like them#trying new professions without having to stick to them or work up a ladder#drop everything for a weekend to go see friends. things like that.#i say all these things as though i haven’t been too afraid to leave my house for the past 6 months djfjdjfjdjfjjd#i’m trying to be less avoidant lately though. like ideal situations are not my reality!#real life is me being too scared to think of possibilities so in reality i just have to take the tiniest steps back to normalcy#ppl with the jae lore remember when my commute to school was literally 5000 miles#or when i worked two jobs and was so about the grind because i had a reason to want the money#like i used to have So much going on. and now i don’t. and i don’t know what i am in the absence of being Busy#there’s still so much i don’t understand abt bpd1 i’m so scared of making changes too suddenly because i HATE who i was in august#or not who i was. what i was doing.#but now i’ve swung the other direction and i do nothing 😭 i don’t feel like i’m Living rn#i feel like i’ve started all over again. i almost had it i was gonna do two internships and keep doing my cute little barista job#and have a senior year that was gonna be about growing and finishing strong#and then of course my maladjusted ass sees [irreversible change event] and like. yknow#this keeps. happening to me. i want to be so much better than this 😭😭😭
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scientia-rex · 7 months
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When I was in ninth grade I wanted to challenge what I saw as a very stupid dress code policy (not being allowed to wear spikes regardless of the size or sharpness of the spikes). My dad said to me, “What is your objective?”
He said it over and over. I contemplated that. I wanted to change an unfair dress code. What did I stand to gain? What did I stand to lose? If what I really wanted was to change the dress code, what would be my most effective potential approach? (He also gave me Discourses on the Fall of Rome by Titus Livius, Machiavelli’s magnum opus. Of course he’d already given me The Prince, Five Rings, and The Art of War.)
I ultimately printed out that phrase, coated it in Mod Podge, and clipped it to my bathroom mirror so I would look at it and think about it every day.
What is your objective?
Forget about how you feel. Ask yourself, what do you want to see happen? And then ask, how can you make it happen? Who needs to agree with you? Who has the power to implement this change? What are the points where you have leverage over them? If you use that leverage now, will you impair your ability to use it in the future? Getting what you want is about effectiveness. It is not about being an alpha or a sigma or whatever other bullshit the men’s right whiners are on about now. You won’t find any MRA talking points in Musashi, because they are not relevant.
I had no clear leverage on the dress code issue. My parents were not on the PTA; neither were any of my friend’s parents who liked me. The teachers did not care about this. Ultimately I just wore what I wanted, my patent leather collar from Hot Topic with large but flattened spikes, and I had guessed correctly—the teachers also did not care enough to discipline me.
I often see people on tumblr, mostly the very young, flail around in discourse. They don’t have an objective. They don’t know what they want to achieve, and they have never thought about strategizing and interpersonal effectiveness. No one can get everything they want by being an asshole. You must be able to work with other people, and that includes smiling when you hate them.
Read Machiavelli. Start with The Prince, but then move on to Discourses. Read Musashi’s Five Rings. Read The Art of War. They’re classics for a reason. They can’t cover all situations, but they can do more for how you think about strategizing than anything you’re getting in middle school and high school curricula.
Don’t vote third party unless you can tell me not only what your objective is but also why this action stands a meaningful chance of accomplishing it. Otherwise, back up and approach your strategy from a new angle. I don’t care how angry you are with Biden right now. He knows about it, and he is both trying to do something and not doing enough. I care about what will happen to millions of people if we have another Trump presidency. Look up Ross Perot, and learn from our past. Find your objective. If it is to stop the genocide in Palestine now, call your elected representatives now. They don’t care about emails; they care about phone calls, because they live in the past. I know this because I shadowed a lobbyist, because knowing how power works is critical to using it.
How do you think I have gotten two clinics to start including gender care in their planning?
Start small. Chip away. Keep working. Find your leverage; figure out how and when to effectively use it. Choose your battles, so that you can concentrate on the battle at hand instead of wasting your resources in many directions. Learn from the accumulated wisdom of people who spent their lives learning by doing, by making mistakes, by watching the mistakes of their enemies.
Don’t be a dickhead. Be smarter than I was at 14. Ask yourself: what is your objective?
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shithivemaggot · 9 months
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Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.
So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.
Lurkers really are great, tho
I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.
Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.
The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.
Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.
There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.
I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 
I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.
I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.
So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.
But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.
I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.
Should we gatekeep fandom?
I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--
A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.
That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.
See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.
So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.
The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.
And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”
Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.
Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.
And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.
However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 
I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.
And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 
And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)
But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.
Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.
Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.
Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 
While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:
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[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 
OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]
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“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.
I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.
It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 
So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.
And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.
So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.
Think of it like a garden gate
When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.
The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 
Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 
Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.
My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.
But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.
I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.
Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.
And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.
Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.
Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.
There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.
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leatherbookmark · 10 months
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was browsing UKO (i know. i know) out of boredom and i'm personally in love with the idea that it's somehow Bad to say you don't like a song without listening to it fully, eg. only after 30 seconds. "you're missing out on so many banger bridges" "if you can't spare 2-3 minutes i don't think your opinion is worth listening to" you'd think it's music journalists scoffing at someone who wants to submit album reviews with this mindset, and not redditors talking about sillay kpop songs
#shrimp thoughts#if a song doesn't captivate me then why would i go out of my way to ~give it a chance~? or even go as far as to listen to it a couple of#times solely so that my opinion is hashtag valid? also it's entirely possible to change your mind. like i did going from hating to loving#halazia. or hating the squeaky bed sample in rock with you but eventually learning to tolerate/like it because the rest of the song was fun#i feel like it's only an issue for like... twitter teens who think other twitter teens saying “X sucks is ugly and their music is stinky!!!#are a serious problem in which case. well#so much of music -- especially kpop -- is about what you're willing to give a chance to. tastes are subjective!#if a song starts off kinda boring and it's by an artist i don't care about i'm going to hit next 5 seconds in. if it's by my favourite#artist then i'm going to keep on listening to the end/listen to the entire album on loop. because i like their other stuff and i'm willing#to listen to the new stuff again if it doesn't captivate me right off the bat. deukae songs used to be that “love at first sight” 4 me but#i guess i just grew out of the honeymoon stage? i have expectations now and i don't think not vibing with their track is like#an act of personal betrayal/disrespecting my mains. but man teenage kp/op fans would honestly have#an aneurysm if they knew there are people who know a song is not up to their tastes without listening to it AT ALL due to: personal tastes#someone who only listens to idk. jazz and classical isn't going to like your oppa's newest cunty bop and it's not their flaw or failing
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bats-and-the-birds · 3 months
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I am thinking about the batkids and their rooms at the manor.
When Dick was first brought to the manor, Alfred put wooden letters that spelled out his name on the outside of the door to his room. He wanted the boy to feel like he belonged, and denoting the room as his seemed like the best way. At first, they spelled out "Richard", and were painted in red, green, and yellow -- the colors that his parents had worn for their circus act, that didn't have any other meaning yet. Dick pried them off the door and threw them away. He didn't want to accept that this was permanent yet. There were new letters on the door a few days later, blue this time, and spelling out "Dick" instead. Those letters got pried off much the same and shoved in a drawer, and they didn't get put back until a year later. He was too short to put them in the same place, so they ended up crooked, and Alfred found it too endearing to fix.
When he left the manor years later, he considered ripping the letters off the door and throwing them in the foyer on his way out. But he left them, and there they remained, crooked as ever.
Jason got his own letters when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere. He helped Alfred put them up on his bedroom door, standing on a step stool to make sure they got in the right place. His were evenly spaced and neatly aligned, and he refused to tell anyone that he cried over them that night. He'd spent months wondering if he'd ever live up to his predecessor, not just as Robin, but in the family as well. And now he had his own letters, just like Dick's, and they weren't going anywhere.
And they didn't. Even after he died. Bruce and Alfred both considered taking the name down to make walking past that empty room less painful, but in the end, they didn't dare touch the letters, just like they didn't touch anything else in the room. Years later, Jason would sneak into the manor through his old bedroom window and find his school uniforms still hanging in the closet, his textbooks on his desk, an open novel on his nightstand, and, of course, the letters still on the door, more of an epitaph than the one on his actual tombstone.
Tim fought for his name on a bedroom door. It took a while, but he trained, and he learned, and he forced himself into the role that he knew he could fill. Part of him thought that no matter how good and useful he made himself as Robin, he'd never really fill the role that the two before him did. He thought there might not be room for him after Jason's death, but he did it. He was older than the other two when Alfred finally put the letters up on his door, but he did it.
Later, when he left in search of Bruce, he didn't think for a second of taking his name down off his door. He'd earned it.
Damian's name got put up practically as soon as he got to the manor. He didn't think much of having his name on a door. If anything, it irked him a bit, being lumped in with the others, but it would have annoyed him more if he didn't get his own name. For a while, his name on the door, marking it as his from the hallway, was the only reason you could tell it wasn't the guest room that it had previously been. He had no photographs, had arrived with no personal affects.
That changed, eventually. As he gained friends, he also gained photos of them. He put up sketches and watercolor paintings of his animals. A dog bed got put on the floor for Titus. But the letters had been there from the beginning, and he grew to appreciate them eventually. His room, with the name on the door, was safe, and he liked it there.
Cass's letters showed up without much fanfare. They were simply there when she exited her room one day. "Cassandra" in black wooden letters that matched all of her new siblings'. She ran her fingers over them with reverence. She'd never been allowed to leave a mark before. Her life was predicated on being a shadow, but there was her name, in big letters, somewhere where other people could see it.
Steph had a room. She didn't want to admit it, but when she crashed at the manor, it was always in the same room. Her name was put up, and she took it down, and it was put up again, and she took it down again until it became something of a game between her and Alfred. If Steph was staying at the manor and Alfred didn't find a wooden S in a random cupboard, then have to search the house for the rest of her name, then he knew she was in a bad mood, and he usually made her favorite cookies and left them outside of the door with her name still firmly in place.
Duke's letters were waiting for him when he moved in. His name in bright yellow letters that matched his suit already in place. Of course it was, it's tradition at this point, and he's part of the family now. He had bounced around for a while now, and the letters on his door made him feel...calmer. It was a sense of permanence, and one he could learn to enjoy.
Barbara didn't need a room. She had her own room, in her own house, but Alfred still offered to mark out a space for her. She declined. When she did stay over, it was either in the cave or Dick's room, she didn't need her own. Still, that didn't mean her mark wasn't left somewhere. There was a study downstairs with a desk that she sometimes did her homework on as a child if she was staying over for the night. Now, the desk held a computer that was wired into the Batcomputer's network, a photo of her and her father, and, of course, tiny wooden letters affixed to the side that spelled out 'Barbara'.
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neverendingford · 11 months
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#finally finished all my dmv stuff! now I just have to wait for my updated ID to arrive in the mail!!!#tag talk#now I just need to update all my miscellaneous records and bank and apartment and work and dr office etc. but like... I'M DONE THE BIG STUFF#and I have a dr follow up in two weeks where I should get my first hrt scrip dog willing. it's all coming together and honestly I feel great#like. huge weight off my shoulders. life finally coming together. energy freed up to work on other stuff#I wish to hell and back that I could time travel back to high school me. I was so hopeless and had no idea why.#everything was wrong and bad and I couldn't do anything about it except hope that my mind stabilized by the time I hit my twenties.#I didn't even realize I was trans then. I just thought my body issues were over being gay.#honestly just seeing my future self would mean everything. I'm working on holding onto the weird I had back then but in a healthier way#I was still fighting against my dad buzzing my hair every few months. I ended up performing masculinity in such a weird way to compensate.#flaunted my scars as the only way of rebelling that I really had. proving I wasn't okay while refusing the christian help I was offered#everything I've told younger kids. taught younger cousins. taught other people. it's stuff I wish I could have known back then#stuff I've learned on this blessed hellsite. idk. it's all coming together. I'm becoming who I am#something something Lincoln Park all I want to do is be less like you and be more like me#I just. I'm alive again. New first name new last name new middle name but I'm still the same person I've always been#I'm not changing who I am. I'm changing all my tags to accurately reflect my content. I'm updating the summary to show what I contain#I'm shedding the costume I was pushed into and showing the true skin beneath.
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UPDATE: NOVAVAX NOW AVAILABLE!!!
Hi everyone, it's been about a year since I posted about updated COVID vaccines and it's time for another update if you are in the US:
THE BRIDGE ACCESS PROGRAM IS ENDING!!!!
If you are uninsured or your insurance does not cover covid boosters, please schedule a new booster appointment before the end of August because the Bridge Access Program (the way the government will still pay for your booster) ends in September. The updated mRNA boosters from Moderna and Pfizer are available now. Go Go GO!!!
Shitty, I know! If you can call your congressional reps, the FDA, the CDC, whomever to tell them you want this program to continue/be reinstated, that would be great. Also, while you're at it, call the FDA to tell them to expedite the approval for the updated Novavax booster (3017962640).
The new Novavax vaccine is designed for the JN.1 strain which is one of the most recent mutations of the virus going around. If you have insurance and can afford to wait, I highly recommend getting the Novavax booster when it becomes available.
We are currently in the largest Covid summer surge since 2021
If you haven't had a booster in the past six months you are essentially unvaccinated. New strains with different spike proteins keep evolving faster than vaccine development and distribution can keep up. All that said, getting Covid is not a moral failing. If you do feel sick, take a rapid test! If it's negative, test again a day or two later. It is better to know than not to know. Here's a refresh on how to take a rapid test correctly:
If you do get Covid, it is worth getting on antiretrovirals within the first week of symptoms to reduce the overall viral load your body has to fight. If your insurance doesn't cover Paxlovid or Remdesivir, here are other low/no-cost ways to access it:
If you get sick, rest radically even after you stop testing positive on rapid tests. Avoid exercising for at least eight weeks after the fact to reduce the risk of developing long covid.
Regardless of your vaccination status, masking with a KN95 or N95 respirator (or equivalent standards in your country i.e. FFP2/3 in the EU) is the most reliable way to protect yourself and others. If Covid protections are a financial burden, there is likely an active Mask Bloc near you doing free distribution of respirators and tests that would be happy to help you. Here's a global map of them from covidactionmap.org
Some quick tips: if you're wearing a bi-fold mask, flatten the nose-bridge wire completely, then mold it to your nose on your face for a better fit. The best mask is the one that you will actually wear regularly to protect yourself. I really like the selection of styles, sizes and colors from WellBefore:
As school is starting, getting you and your family boosted is one of the best things you can do to protect yourselves. Masking is perhaps even more important. If you can advocate for updating and regularly changing the HVAC filters at your local schools to MERV-13 or higher to keep the indoor air cleaner, that can also make a big difference. Better indoor air quality in schools helps protect kids from illness, allergies, wildfire smoke, and more per the EPA's website.
These are steps you can take to improve air quality at home as well. Corsi-Rosenthal boxes are low-cost and highly effective for cleaning the air indoors.
Here's a map of clean air lending libraries for getting access to air purifiers for events from cleanairclub.org
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foldingfittedsheets · 8 months
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I worked retail for a long time and people really do treat you like shit sometimes. But between selling sex toys, mattresses, and jewelry I can say definitively I got treated worst selling mattresses.
All three of my jobs were in sales but selling sex toys we were allowed to put people in their place, and in jewelry people didn’t want to misbehave in a fancy setting. But people at the mattress store had no problem yelling at me, hitting on me, or insulting me to my face.
For a while I was managing my own store for the company. I ran a small location and had struggling employees placed with me for rehabilitation. If their numbers improved they could go back to bigger stores. If not, they got fired.
So this meant I was the manager of problem employees. At one point both of my people had a foot out the door. The company was going downhill and changed computer systems and they were fed up. Consequently, they made a ton of mistakes, because they just didn’t care about the job or learning the new systems.
I strolled into work on what was essentially my Monday to a shit show. Deliveries scheduled without product, wrong things on orders, poor expectations of the process, you name it. I spent the entire morning getting yelled at for mistakes that weren’t mine.
The final straw came when a man called furious that his moms bed for her nursing home had a delivery window he couldn’t accommodate. This wasn’t a huge disaster since we still had time to deliver it before she moved. I ran him through the options and he just kept screaming at me. Not for a solution but because I was there and he was frustrated.
My heart filled with malice and a cold fury. A calculating part of my brain had a realization in that moment that I could stay a punching bag or I could strike back.
I quavered my voice delicately, taking in a shaky, warbling breath like I was trying not to cry. “Sir,” I quivered through fake tears, “I don’t know what you want from me! I told you what I can do, I didn’t make this mistake I’m just trying to fix it!” My voice broke pitifully on the last syllables, sounding in all ways like a sweet innocent person being yelled at who’s just trying her best, really!
It was like I’d doused him with cold water. My emotional act was the realization that he was screaming at someone who was just doing their damn job, and he was being an asshole. He hastily made an excuse and hung up.
I had a third employee covering with me from another store that day who heard everything. When I hung up, I looked over to see them watching me with an awed expression. “Did… did you just pretend to cry?”
“I absolutely fucking did,” I said with feeling, “and I’d do it a thousand more times. If that’s what it takes for someone to realize they’re behaving like a fucking prick, they deserve it.” The employee looked at me like I was their hero.
The man called back, apologizing profusely, having magically arranged his schedule to accommodate delivery. He came in later that week with an apology Starbucks gift card. I was gracious in my acceptance.
I pulled it a few more times before leaving the company. I felt no shame in the ruse. If someone behaves so poorly that it’s plausible their behavior would drive someone to tears they deserve to feel absolutely wretched about it.
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