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First, I managed to leave for work without the emotional support water bottle I take everywhere.
Cole chuckles. “I remember your personal vendetta against gravity.” “That sounds way cooler than saying I’m naturally clumsy.”
The fact I wasn’t good at it right away made it hard to want to practice, even though some part of my brain acknowledges that’s logically how skills work. Generally it’s overpowered by the side of my mind that fumes when I don’t immediately uncover a hidden skill for the brand new hobby I picked up on impulse.
I can manage my neurodivergent brain with therapy and medication, but there’s nothing to fix being a fucking douchebag.
“There are two things I never say no to: free coffee and baked goods.” Reagan leans close to whisper to me. “Babe, he’s all green flags. Keep him.”
but unfortunately I need to make money to live. Who decided that? Rude.
CraftyCutie: Hey. You’re talking to a professional disaster. It’s okay to be in your feels and not know what the hell is going on.
MightyPuck: Do you want my input, or would you prefer if I just listened?
“Risky.” His brow lifts. “That’s an interesting way to say fun,” I sass.
“Why are we like this?” “Because being in love makes us act weird.” “I love being in weird with you.”

