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#if anyone was wondering where my brain is
glitterquadricorn · 20 hours
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Forgotten Birthday - CL16
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+summary: It's yours and your twin brother, Charles' birthday and no one would forget, right? +pairing: Charles Leclerc x W series driver!Leclerc!Reader +warning(s): favoritism, curse words, jealousy(?), mentions sexism, mentions misogyny. If I'm missing something, let me know.
I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.
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She loved birthdays. Her birthday granted, she shares hers with her twin, Charles, her mother's birthday, her brother's birthday, anyone's birthday really. But to be honest, it doesn't even need to be someone's birthday for her to shower them with affection. It could be an anniversary or even something as simple as a race win. Anything is worth celebrating in her eyes.
When she looked at her phone, there was not a single message wishing her a happy birthday. 'It's still early, so maybe they haven't had a chance to message me yet,' she thought to herself. 'But then again, people have forgotten my birthday before.'
I bet you're wondering; how do people forget your birthday when you're a twin? Simple. Having parents who accidentally favored one twin over the other. She knew it wasn't done on purpose. Both of her parents loved her unconditionally, but a lot of the times she'd get pushed aside and forgotten about until someone pointed it out. And yeah, her parents would always make it up to her by going out to dinner at a place of her choice the following day, but what's the point of celebrating your birthday when it wasn't even your birthday anymore.
Come noon, the only person to reach out and wish her a happy birthday was Charles teammate Carlos, which she appreciated, but it wasn't the person she wanted to hear from. After sending a quick thank you text, she plopped down on the couch, putting on some random nature documentary.
Mumbling under her breath, "Happy Birthday to me."
All the way across the world in Austin, Texas, Charles stood in the Ferrari hospitality surrounded by Ferrari employees as they sang happy birthday to him. His birthday was actually three days ago, but he still appreciated them taking the time out to do something special. Though for the last six days, he had this nagging feeling like he was forgetting something, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.
He bent forward, blowing the candles out. Carlos, who was standing next to him, patted his shoulder. "What did you wish for?"
"If I told you, then it wouldn't happen," he laughed, grabbing a fork for his piece of the red Ferrari themed cake. That feeling of him forgetting something came crawling back.
"You okay, Charles? You look like you're thinking awful hard about something."
"That's because I am." he racked his brain for anything that would give him an idea of why he felt the way he did. "I just feel like I'm forgetting something."
"Well, did you wish y/n a happy birthday?" Carlos asked.
He gasped, nearly dropping the plate that was in his hand. "MERDE! (shit) I forgot to wish her a happy birthday!"
"You forgot to wish your sister, your twin, a happy birthday? Even I wished her a happy birthday, mate."
He sat the plate of cake down on the table and reached for his phone in his pocket, dialing y/n's number. Monaco is roughly seven hours ahead of where he's at, so the chances of y/n answering is slim to none. His call went straight to voicemail. He cursed under his breath and tried again, and like before, his call went to voicemail. Sunday couldn't come fast enough.
Charles found himself at his sister's apartment late Monday afternoon with flowers and a bottle of her favorite wine. As he knocked on the door, he took a step back. He wouldn't blame her if she didn't answer, but to his surprise, she did.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I'm here to make up for forgetting your birthday."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "It was your birthday, too, yet I bet you a had small celebration with Ferrari."
"Y/n-,"
"No, Charles. Do you know how I felt when the only person to wish me a happy birthday was your own teammate?"
"And there's no excuse I can make to forget your birthday since it was mine as well," Charles sighed. "But can we please continue this conversation inside?"
Y/n stepped aside, letting Charles in. "You know, this isn't the first time I've been forgotten about, and it honestly sucks knowing that you're the one mom and dad always focused on."
"What? That's not true!" Charles exclaimed.
"Really? Remember when we were six, and I wanted that new Ferrari Lego set? You ended up getting it and you didn't even play with Legos. Or when Arthur and I had to stop karting because mom and dad couldn't afford to keep you, Arthur and I going? Who was it that got to continue while Arthur and I had to watch? You." She snapped. "When I picked karting back up, you were already making your way to formula one. I was jealous because I knew I wasn't probably going to make it to F1, but then I got a great opportunity to be in the W series. But even then, it felt like no matter what I did or achieved was good enough."
Charles let y/n rant and get everything off her chest. Just when he was about to say something, y/n cut him off. “The thought of retiring from racing has crossed my mind more times than I'd like to admit.”
Her admission stunned him. Y/n? Retire from racing? That’s absolutely insane. 
“You can’t just retire, y/n. Racing is your life! Your passion!”
“It is and it always will be, but when you’re constantly compared to you, it takes a toll.”
“You aren’t compared-” 
“I’m going to stop you right there. My race in Miami back in May, I won. Your race in Miami you got p2 and yet your results were the center of attention in my post-race press conference. They didn’t even bother to talk about how well I drove, stats, or even how I felt when I won the race. It was you, you, you.” She flexed her fingers, attempting to calm herself down. “You should be thankful you’re still racing right now, Charles. I didn’t even get to finish my season because of funding issues. But what gets me is that you and the other drivers on the grid talk about the w series and what the impact women could have in formula one, but when it comes down to it, it's basically all talk. You guys don’t put your money where your mouth is.”
The two siblings stared at each other without saying a word. There weren’t many times he could recall that his sister had ever snapped at him like that. She was very much like him personality wise. Always thoughtful, known to say nothing mean about anyone, and is a pretty simple person who likes simple things. 
“I- I didn’t know you felt this way.”
“I said nothing because I didn’t want to be rude.” she sighed, “As a woman who is in a male dominated sport, I’m expected to act a certain way. I’m not taking seriously when I talk about cars, their parts, where they go and how they operate. When I’m out on dates and I say I’m a race car driver, they don’t believe me. If they believe me, then they ask me how my boobs fit in my fireproofs. If I get mad over something that happened during the race, I’m seen as dramatic. I’m not saying you don’t have your struggles, but you have it a hell of a lot easier than me.”
“Do you feel better now that you got out of your system?”
“Honestly? Yeah. That’s been brewing for weeks.”
Charles moved closer to y/n, giving her a side hug. “I really am sorry for forgetting your birthday. I genuinely want to make it up to you.”
“Really?” 
“Really.” 
Charles should’ve known by the mischievous grin on y/n’s face that he was in for it. That was proven to be correct when the following week he stood in the Ferrari with bright pink nail polish on his fingernails. It was the first and the last time he ever forgot his sister’s birthday.
---
I had this in my drafts for MONTHS!!
tagging:
@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyberhacker @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119
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sanguineterrain · 22 hours
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Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken
this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!
clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰
****
Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.
The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.
You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.
You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.
"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.
A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.
The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.
You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.
"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.
You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.
Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.
And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.
"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"
You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."
He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."
You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"
Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.
"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."
Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.
"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."
Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."
"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."
Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.
"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."
"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.
"No?"
"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."
Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.
"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."
"Oh. Thank you."
You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.
He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.
"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."
"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.
"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."
Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.
"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"
You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.
"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"
"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"
He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.
Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.
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dc418writes · 2 days
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✨Pairing✨: felon!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader
Summary🪄: Surprisingly, you’re Ari’s first stop when he gets out of prison
🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!! Ari (first and foremost because hello☝🏾lol), angst, talks of prison, allusion to violence (male-male), allusion to childhood trauma, a few bad language words, unprotected happy adult fun times (everyone please be safe!)
A/N🎤: Hi! So this is my entry for the Cum Together Extravaganza created by the amazing, talented, wonderful, whore-mone inducing @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 lol, and I hope everyone enjoys☺️! *This idea is loosely based off Nicolas Cage’s character from Con Air (if you know you know✨)
*DISCLAIMER!: although visual was created by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*
Prompt: Pining + Running into each other after a long time apart + Frantic Kisses
His heavy boots stop just a foot or two away from the familiar steps he’d climbed plenty of times before. A mix of emotions swirling through his brain causing a tightness in his chest.
He shouldn’t be here.
Not after he’d all but physically pushed you out the visitation room that day. A common tactic of self sabotage he developed over the years, along with his way of trying to protect you from the eventual hurt he knew he’d put you through.
You were so angelic that day. Your natural glow competing with the sun outside shining through the window against your soft skin seemingly made of gold. Brown eyes full of worry, yet still holding that sparkle Ari had never experienced from anyone before. This wasn’t a place for you to be. A place that would soon tarnish your purity - so white the freshest snow, having fallen directly from the sky above, seemed dirty.
“You’re hurt,” you stated wanting so badly to reach out and try to do something for the blue and purple bruise on his cheek. To clean the dried blood around the stitch in his right eyebrow, but you keep your hands to yourself following the strict “no touching” rule.
He only shrugged. Clearly uncaring of whatever happened, but there was also a dimness to his spirit.
Since your first meeting, you could tell there was something hidden behind the walls he’d built. Sense a complicated past before he felt comfortable enough to tell you some of what he’d gone through. However this was different. Past the point of reverting back to the old Ari that was known as a troubled, aloof hermit, it’s almost as if this was a completely different man.
“I uh wanted to bring you cookies, but the officer said no,” you started again, trying to change the subject since Ari wouldn’t tell you what happened. “Something about possible contraband smuggling? As if I could sneak something in a small cookie. Plus it’s me of all people! Where would I even get-,”
“Don’t come back here,” he finally spoke in that gruff voice. It takes you back at first, lightly chuckling to yourself thinking he was joking. His serious eyes - somewhat dark and with new adjoining bags from his lack of sleep - tell you otherwise quickly causing a furrow to your brows.
“Wha-What do you mean-?”
“You don’t need to be waiting for me. Just…leave.”
“B-But I love you Ari.”
He shakes his head before standing to his feet. “We’re done,” he calls over his shoulder as he reaches the metal door. Whoever was in charge apparently heard him from the pad shining green to grant him entrance back to the waiting hall where another officer met him to reapply his cuffs and escort him to his cell.
All the while ignoring your cries of his name and how you pleaded for him to talk to you.
But later that night, staring at the discolored white ceiling as he lied in his top bunk on an uncomfortable, lumpy mattress, it’s all he could hear. Those same tears that ran down your cheeks now silently running down his.
“Fuck,” he silently curses to himself while his fingers pass through his almond strands as he turns away - now hyper aware of how strange he probably looked to your neighbors just standing in your yard. He should’ve just gone to the halfway house he’d been recommended from the transfer counselor.
Try to stay far from you and this part of town for that matter.
He was slowly realizing though, that the heart he thought was closed off desperately craved attention only you could give. Only wanted your warm touch and smile that soothed a childhood ache he’d long suppressed.
Just as he moves to descend your stone path, the front door creaks open to staccato taps on your wooden porch. There’s a continuous clink of metal followed by excited barks as the black dachshund runs down the steps and around Ari’s feet.
“Barry! You can’t run-”
Beautiful as a painting in a museum, there you stood in your cut off jean shorts and some older looking shirt. Your hair much shorter than the last time he saw you eight years ago, but the pixie cut only brought more attention to your gorgeous face and adorable cheeks.
Other than that, it’s as if you hadn’t aged a day.
“A-Ari?,” you stammer stepping further out onto your porch.
He has to clear his throat to get rid of the nerves blocking his words from escaping. “I…I’m sorry for just showin’ up like this. Would’ve called, but when they gave me my phone back it was dead.”
“So..you’re out?”
“Yea,” he softly smiles. You don’t return it though looking as if you’d seen a ghost while staying planted on the top step. Even Barry had returned back to your side, circling a couple times until he felt comfortable enough to lie down. “This was a mistake. Clearly she doesn’t want you here.”
“I’ll uh leave then,” Ari says nervously scratching the back of his neck after a long - and awkward enough - moment of silence between you two. “I didn’t mean to bother-”
Before he can finish, you’re running down the steps - not caring of the dirt and grass on your bare feet. He’s prepared for your deserved anger, whether that be yelling, shoves, or even punches. Instead, your fists clasp the front of his shirt as you pull him down to meet your lips.
After years apart his hands still automatically find their usual place on your body bringing you closer. Ari’s right on the side of your neck, tilting your chin however he needed to gain the access to your mouth he missed, while his left dragged from your hip to the middle of your back holding you to him.
Your moan hitting him in a deep, long ignored place that has him embarrassed like a teenage boy how fast his blood runs southward.
The need for air has you both begrudgingly parting, while your foreheads stay connected. “I’m sorry..for everything,” he whispers letting his thumb graze along your petal soft bottom lip. It’s as if he thinks you’ll break he’s so gentle - like it’s a fragile piece of artwork he dared touch.
"I didn't-"
"Shh," you reply leaning up to peck his lips once more. "Later."
-
Your lips barely separate journeying the short distance from your front door to your bedroom. Both of them red and swollen, yet neither of you attempt to stop as your back hits the light blue comforter - fluffy and soft as a cloud.
His hands grip your thighs curling along his sides, yet fail to move where you need them most making you whimper as his mouth slides to your neck. Taking matters into your own hands, you pull his shirt over his muscled back - silently giggling to yourself and filling with a sense of pride hearing his pleasured groan as your nails rake against his warm skin.
They’re set for his buckle next, but Ari’s quick to use his rougher and stronger ones to pin on either side of your head. “Ari please,” you whine eagerly trying to grind your hips so your soaking core can get some type of relief. You know he’s desperate for something too briefly nudging the tent formed in front of his pants.
“I know, I know.” He unsuccessfully tries to kiss the pout from your lips. “I..I wanna take my time tonight. It’s been eight years sweetheart.”
The deprived and needy part of you wants to counter, urging him for the opposite since it’s been so long. Instead, you nod letting him completely take control.
Slowly, he helps remove your clothes before open mouth kisses and taps of his tongue flow down from your neck and across your heaving chest to your stomach. You moan arching your back to lift your breasts closer to his face when he returns there taking his time attacking one nipple with his tongue while the other is groped and plucked in his free hand.
By the time he finally reaches your waiting and wet core, it only takes one lick and your sweet release is covering his beard.
“S-Sorry,” you stammer feeling your skin heat even more from shame not wanting that to happen so quickly.
“Sorry?,” he softly chuckles before leaving a kiss on your mound. “That’s what’s supposed to happen.”
The sound nearly has you in tears knowing your Ari was back. The one you knew loved you just as much as you loved him.
Having had a taste after going so long without, he can’t wait for more switching between his skillful tongue and fingers until your juices flow again, His mouth attached to you; greedily slurping everything you could give him. Your fingers are seemingly locked in his hair as he rises enough to remove his pants. Grunting as he grabs the base - past the point of painfully hard - to direct himself inside you.
“Fuck,” he moans into your neck feeling you rapidly pulse around him. So warm and tight he has to restrain himself from taking you like a wild animal.
Not that you would mind.
“M’not gonna last baby.”
“Spose to happen,” you slur clutching around him urging him to move.
His hand tightly pinning your hip to the bed, his thrusts start slow yet hard before gaining speed the closer he feels. Simultaneously, your cries of his name get louder as well while his mouth and tongue move along your neck and earlobe.
“Shit, I feel you right there baby come on. Come with me.” You can’t comprehend anything with your brain in this foggy, love drunk state, yet somehow your body complies when his thumb finds your swollen and throbbing nub squirting against his skin and down to the sheets below. “Mm good girl.”
His final pumps have you filled until no more can stay. A small mix of both your releases leaking from your hole with every surge of his hips until he’s drained.
Exhausted, he carefully tries to pull out but your whines have him stopping. Softly smiling to himself while slowly lowering until he’s comfortably laying on top of you. “Calm down I’m here.”
Soon your even breaths fill his ears and he’s able to lie on his side - gently moving you with him- to completely take in the area surrounding him. His fingertips mindlessly tracing along your thigh as he reacquaints himself to your bedroom. It was fitting for you in every way, from the light yellow of the walls to the books lining the shelves he built for you long ago. Your few stuffed animals in a wicker basket in the corner as if they were prepared for bed themselves.
Ari notices one in particular - a white bunny with long ears and pink bows he bought you during a trip to the store one day - on your dresser next to a framed picture you must’ve secretly took. He appeared to be taking a break from something dressed in a gray tee, dark jeans, and work-boots with his utility belt on his hips. A bottle of water in his hand lifted to his lips as he looked off somewhere in the distance. Now that he thought about it, he was watching a bird peck the ground trying to find bugs or seeds to eat.
And he looked so peaceful. So calm for once in his tormented life. He had you to thank for that being kind and willing enough to share your light when he fought so hard against it.
In the bit of moonlight peeking through the blinds, he can make out ‘Home’ in the corner of the picture causing the slightest curl to his lips as he holds you closer.
“You kept putting up with me,” he quietly speaks pecking your temple. “So patient even after everything. Know I’m never leavin you again sweetheart. I’m home for good.”
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xoxoavenger · 2 days
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 🎁🎈🎂🎉🎊 I loved Try Me (Matt Murdock x Reader), I was wondering if maybe you could write a sequel? I could see an intimate moment where she’s feeding him the soup she made and taking care of him, potentially with the hilarity of Foggy finding out he’s got two super powered friends
thanks! hopefully this is what you were looking for, I had fun writing it!
Ask Me
pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
word count: 1099
warnings: none
part 1
birthday masterlist main masterlist
"I can't believe you're Daredevil." She mutters as she ladles the soup into a bowl. She made a broth more than a soup because she didn't have time to cut the vegetables, but it'll do the trick. She also didn't know the extent of Matt's injures, and she didn't want him to have trouble eating anything. "Does Foggy know?" She asks as she brings the bowl over to the couch.
"Yes," Matt chuckles, but his teeth are clenched in pain. She kneels next to the couch and she is still shocked by his injuries, even though she's already seen them. He has a large cut across his chest, and resists the urge to touch it.
She watches Matt try to sit up, but he's clearly in too much pain. She puts the soup on the ground in favor of helping him up. She tries not to let her pulse rush as she touches his bare back and bicep, pulling him up gently until he is sitting up enough to eat.
"Here, let's get you some food." She tells him, spooning some broth and then carefully helping him eat some. It's so quiet in the apartment that she swears she can feel her own heart race as she feeds Matt. They're close, and her brain is reeling with the thought of how Matt, and blind man, can be a vigilante.
"I think that's good." Matt groans when they're about three fourths of the way though the bowl. She gets up to put the bowl away and grab a warm, wet cloth.
"How are you Daredevil?" She asks, sinking down to her knees again and beginning to wipe off the blood around his wounds.
"Are you asking if I'm actually blind?" He questions, but he's smiling, so she can tell he's joking. 
"I know you're blind, Matt." She says with a small sigh. She's seen his unfocused eyes too many times to think he was just preteneding. 
"All my other senses are heightened." He tells her, tensing as she begins to wipe a big, deep cut. She hopes that soon her healing food will kick in; she's never seen it help on this level, and she's worried it won't work as well as Matt is hoping it will.
"So, you can hear really good?" She asks, wondering what exactly that means. He shrugs, smiling a little bit.
"And smell, and taste. And feel. I have to have specific sheets because of how sensitive my skin is." He's feeling better, she can tell, and it makes her smile.
"How did figure it out?" She asks quietly. She's had these powers ever since she can remember, but she'd never told anyone and no one ever figured it out either. This is a first, sharing a gift, and she can't help but feel a little scared.
"That your food could heal people?" He clarifies. She almost nods, but then catches herself.
"Yeah," She confirms.
"You asked me what happened again the day after you first gave me the croissant, as if you knew it should have gone away. And I usually have accelerated healing anyway, but not that fast. You wouldn't have known that." He's starting to relax more, and she knows he needs to get some sleep soon.
"You wanna move to the bed?" She asks, putting the cloth down and preparing to move him. Before he can answer, Foggy comes stomping back in.
"So both of my best friends are super heroes?" He yells, throwing the drugstore bag in their general direction. Y/N's eyes widen as Foggy walks to them.
"I am not a super hero." Y/N clarifies.
"I wouldn't classify myself as one either." Matt interjects, a hand out to stop Foggy's rant. It does nothing, and Foggy soldiers on.
"You can feel, hear, and smell things no human should be able to feel, hear, and smell." He points at Matt, who raises an eyebrow. "And you can heal people with your food, that you've been feeding me for months!" Foggy moves to Y/N, and she just shakes her head.
"Have you ever wondered why you haven't gotten sick in months?" She asks, and he just scoffs.
"That proves my point!" He screams. Y/N and Matt shake their heads, Matt smirking.
"Foggy, neither of us are superheroes. You don't need to freak out." Matt tries to calm him down, but Foggy just gets more worked up.
"Are you kidding me? You could be Avengers for all I know!" Foggy grabs the bag that he had thrown and begins to get some of the bandages and Neosporin out to help Matt.
"Oh my God," Y/N groans, rolling her eyes and putting her head in her hands. Honestly, Foggy freaking out was kinda funny, but she isn't sure if he's being serious now or not.
"We're not Avengers, Foggy." Matt chuckles, and Y/N begins to put bandages over Matt's injuries.
"Well I just don't know that, do I?" Foggy looks over at the pot on the stove, walking over there quickly. "What did you make?"
"Just a quick broth. I wanted to get Matt something quick." She tells Foggy as she begins to focus on the task at hand.
"Is this why I haven't gotten paper cuts?" Foggy asks as he ladles a little soup out for himself.
"It doesn't make you skin extra strong, Fog." Matt tells him as she continues bandaging him up. Her hands brushing his skin make Matt want to crawl out of his skin in a good way, which didn't make sense until this very moment.
"Did I hurt you?" Y/N asks softly when he tenses.
"No," He mutters, putting a hand on her wrist to stop her. "It's okay, I think the big ones are taken care of." He just wants to lay down and sleep it off now, but he wants to ask her one more thing.
"Let me help you to your room." She offers, and together, with him leaning on her, they make it to Matt's room.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks as they sit down. He can feel the heat begin to flush her cheeks, her heart beginning to race. He's worried still that maybe she feels uncomfortable until she responds.
"Working." She thinks she's funny, and Matt chuckles.
"Do you want to go to Josie's with me tomorrow night?" He asks, and she ducks her head and smiles.
"As long as my boss lets me off on time." She says, nudging him with her shoulder.
"I'll talk to him." He tells her, both of them smiling hard enough that their cheeks hurt.
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace  @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch
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justasimpleton-26 · 5 hours
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Jason Todd x Reader: College life
College had stressed you out to the point where you considered a life of crime.
Don't get you wrong; you didn't want to commit any type of crimes or fight anyone of the BatFamily, but how were you going to use Geometry in real life?
You were so focused on stressing over your upcoming exams that you weren't paying attention when you bumped into someone.
You used the term "someone" very loosely; for all you know, the marble statue was dressed in cool clothes by some student as a joke.
It isn't until the statue turns to look at you that you realize that holy shit this is an actual human being.
A very buff person, but human all the same.
He has spiky jet black hair that sticks up in random places, his bangs colored stark white. Emerald green eyes peer down at you as this man looks over six feet tall, his body bulky with muscle.
The guy wears a faded black t-shirt that looks almost gray, his pants faded and biker boots shoved on.
"...miss?" the guy asks, making you shake yourself out of ogling him some more.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" she'd asked, and he chuckled.
"I was asking if you were lost." the guy repeated, and you blushed, trying not to make it noticeable that you were blushing.
"Sorry, I live on campus so I know my way around. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going which is why I bumped into you. Sorry about that by the way." you rushed to explain, bringing your book closer to your chest.
"Ah, I see. I'm Jason by the way." the guy-Jason-said, as he moved his book and a graded paper to his left hand as he held out his right to shake her hand.
You took it but couldn't help but notice that he was holding a geometry book, and the graded worksheet on top was actually a geometry test with high marks.
An idea planted in your brain, so you looked up at the genius giant, and tried to not make it seem like you were desperate for help. (Which you were, Jason didn't need to know that.)
"Hi Jason, um, look this is going to seem random, but I was wondering if you could maybe tutor me in geometry?" you asked, secretly hoping against hope that he would say yes.
Jason blinked, as if the question had caught him off guard.
"How did you know-" then he looked at the paper and book he was carrying and nodded as if that made sense. "Yeah, sure, meet me at the college library once your done with all your classes."
You thanked him profusely, and there was even a skip in your step as you headed back to your next class, leaving Jason behind.
It's not until you're having your bride and groom dance that Jason admits that the geometry book and test was actually Roy's and he'd been carrying his stuff when you approached him.
You're in disbelief and ask Jason if he was even good at math, and he chuckles before he gazes into your eyes.
"I am now, Roy tutored me." Jason answers.
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lostinvasileios · 1 day
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Hi! I’m sorry if my question seems to be silly, but I really was wondering.
Have you ever saw and/or heard you deities? How do you do that? I’ve never experienced something like that, but I see people sharing this sort of experience. Like… they can describe appearance, voice etc of their deities. How? I fully rely on my gut in my journey, but I do wish to see, hear and know my deities in face. So, if my question doesn’t bother you, could you share your experience and tips, please?
Thank you!
Hello there, lovely!! Your question isn't silly at all, don't worry. Thanks for asking. 🤍🌼
I indeed have! I've seen/felt and heard my deities before. And, the process to be able to do this is different for everyone.
But, for me, it took countless hours of meditation with them, I was spending so much time focusing on my already existing abilities. Like my active imagination, my sense of visualization that came from that, and so on and so forth which would eventually allow me to begin to see my beloved deities. Being able to recognize their energy soon led me to being able to comprehend their voices and feel their touches. Then that got me into the process of being able to see them.
Gut feelings are actually one of the ways you can get to learn your deities appearance as well. You could try and picture them from whatever comes to mind. A pop culture artwork of them, maybe a livened version of their statue, someone pretty on Pinterest with a few extra features, ect. Deity appearances are very fluid, and can change depending on any factor, so there's no pressure on finding out what they "exactly" look like. Because, they have no exact look. Just take whatever feels best for you. That's what it will come down to most of the time, anyway. What resonates. Like always, lol.
Actually, for about 6 months of being able to see them at first, I couldn't register their voices outside of when they would speak. If that makes sense, lol. Like, I'd understand it when they'd talk to me, but when they weren't speaking, I couldn't recall their voice, just what they had said. Sometimes, their appearance will do the same. You'll see it in the moment, you'll feel or hear them in the moment, then whenever that interaction/meditation ends - so does the...sensation? of them. You know?
For some part of my time with Apollon at first, I'd simply spend my time scrolling through Pinterest for pictures that reminded me of him. I kept them in a sort of e-altar board for him so I could go back and refresh my mind if I was having trouble seeing him in my imagination. Since, sometimes, it helps to simply - daydream of their appearances. At least for me. Getting more used to their eye colors, their body languages, imagine them speaking to you every now and then to try and have their voice be easier to comprehend, stuff like that.
Don't rush it, I can almost guarantee that you'll see and sense your deities in these ways eventually. However, they know what's best in the end. Seeing deities, feeling them, hearing them, ect - can be quite the energy drainer because of how high frequency they are and whatnot. Even if they lower themselves to some extreme degrees to be able to show themselves to us in these ways. So, if you aren't experiencing it just yet, that's probably because you aren't ready for it. Comprehending deities is a difficult task for anyone at first, and can be a persistent struggle even over months. And that's perfectly fine. Because these are celestial beings of the stars and all that other universe-y stuff, we as humans are conditioned not to believe these astral realm things because of how unlimited it all is. Of how... Ironically unbelievable the experience is.
So, even when you're sensing them, your brain will be like "mm...no" most of the time when you're first getting the hang of it. Out of the want to protect you and whatnot.
Deities will 9/10 times try their darndest to help you comprehend them by coming in appearances of like... TV characters, like I've heard some people see Loki as the Loki from the marvel series. Or, how you see book characters. There's been a few times where Aphroditus has appeared to me as a fanart of Lucien from ACOTAR that I loved and made the way I see him whenever he's present in the book. Their voices just the same. They might sound like a singer you very much enjoy, or like a comfort character of yours. I could go on, but I think you get the point, haha.
I saw Apollon as the Apollo from Blood of Zeus without ever having watched or have had heard of it, I only noticed he was taking that form after I looked up his name on Pinterest, and I just went with it. Same with Dionysus. Point is, let them show themselves to you however your brain allows them. I put so much tremendous pressure on myself to perfectly memorize how my higher self looked or how my deities looked, just to be reminded how their forms are infinite. How - they don't want you to stress over that.
They don't want you to feel less because you cannot experience them in the way another devotee can, because that's them, this is you. And they love you. And they'll meet you where you're at to help you progress and grow.
My motto for this? It'll happen when it happens, and when it does - I know they'll be refreshingly, ravishingly beautiful.
I never liked surprises, but, hey. When your deity pops out with a new look entirely and it takes the breath out of you to see it - you get more accustomed to it over time, haha.
Sorry if I dragged this on, I love questions like these lol. I hope it helped!! Blessed be. 💛🤍💛
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halloworhorecrux · 2 days
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A concept, feel free to run with it anyone.
It's time travel with Draco Malfoy. 
He passes the arch of the Court Chambers where he has been sentenced to 3 years of Azkaban. No happy thoughts, only the regret and sadness of having to relieve his mistakes in technicolor within the drab walls of Azkaban. 
Anyways, he passes the arch, which has been destabilized because of the dark magic from Voldemort. He passes out and wakes up to his mother and father looking at him with worry.
It's July 31, 1991.
They fret and hover over him and argue over if they should continue to Diagon Alley for his school supplies. Draco is discombobulated and just smiles winningly because he can't remember how he was at that age but he is sure there was happiness surrounding this day ( there was he meet the love of his life, Harry) so he smiles and encourages them to continue with their day with the dopiest grin. Alright so maybe he has a slight concussion and cannot see straight (pun intended). So on they go apparating into the alley while Draco clings to his parents because he is slightly concussed and slightly because his parents are healthy and petting his hair. Sure this might all be a fever dream and he will wake in a cold, dreary island filled with dementors. He is a firm believer in delulu is the sululu so he will take this small amount of happiness that he can.
This time his parents refuse to allow him to go alone into any of the shops. They are worried about the slightly dazed look in their son's eyes. At the entrance to the robe shop, he berates them to let him stand on his own and not embarrass him. The two decide to wander the shop with a keen eye on their son. As before a ragged looking boy enters the shop without the notice of the two adults. Draco however has never been more excited. He didn't know it at the time but he knows he is Harry Potter. The biggest grin on his face he practically shouts " hullo, Hogwarts too?" 
Taken aback by this small pale boy, Harry thinks “oh great another weird person who knows his name”. Warily the thin boy steps up as he is instructed to by the matron. 
"Uh yea, Hogwarts too"
Nodding along, Draco speaks "I thought as much. I've been waiting for....that door to open.  You know because the nargles told me." He isn't sure why he lies but he decides he can't be blurting out things that might make him wake up. After all dreams start to shatter once you  start to think too hard. 
"uh what are nar..nargles you said?" young Potter asks.
"Oh well you know, those little pesky things that go bzzz in your brain, like uh huh yea they go bzzzz. Like bee's except they’re magical. “ He does a little motion to indicate a bee flying. 
“Yea magical bees. Wonder if that would make me allergic to them as well. I’m allergic to bees you see? Had to be flooed to St.Mungos once after I tried to eat one of mothers flowers. Of course, it was Uncle Sev’s fault entirely. He said they were edible. I just didn't get the right color. But how did I know that flowers of different colors can do different things? It was horrible, Mother made me read about flowers for weeks after that as punishment for messing up her garden." Rubbing along his lips remembering that incident he finishes his little rant " so I guess I could be allergic, she (Luna) did say they cause a type of reaction like a bee sting.." His words putter out as he realizes he just ranted at poor potter about bees. A flush rises to his cheeks. 
Harry is laughing softly at the now embarrassed boy. Not wanting to alienate his first potential friend he asked " Did you learn anything about flowers I mean. I haven’t read much about them but I do tend to our weeds and such for my aunt." Though the task sounds much better, he can feel the calluses his hands acquired from having to dig and pull without proper gloves.
"Oh, actually, yea, I learned about this weed called Venus tentactular that has vines that can kill you, but just show it a bit of sun, and it calms right down. I spent hours trying to make a lumos just so I could see it. Mother has never been more horrified, than when I tried to coax it out of the greenhouse. I think she wanted me to appreciate the pretty flowers, but what's a garden without a couple of weeds? Want to see?" 
Then promptly face palms  because he has just asked the savior if he wants to see a weed that can kill him. 
" Oh Merlin, not because I want to hurt you or anything. I’m very good at light charms or well mainly I can make fire with my mind. It's really just accidental magic but I mean I think it and boom it’s there in my hands. But not like a boom like a bomb just like a small night light but with fire. Not that I need a nightlight or anything, I’m not a baby anymore. And I couldn’t object to it as a baby anyway so that's really why I had it then. Of course. "
A boisterous laugh makes his ramble come to stop. Harry Potter is clutching his ribs as he cackles and giggles with mirth at the babbling boy next to him.
Face as red as a candy apple, Draco somehow is able to tell Potter to write to him. Though the conversation on Owling leaves Harry in more tears as Draco does an impersonation of an owl. Who sounds and all. Draco doesn't even try to understand Harry's explanation of a landline.
It's as what feels like a week goes by that Draco fears he may be in some type of coma because he has not returned to the chill of the North Sea.
Letters are passed, and it's Sep 1, 1990, when Draco begins to have worries of how exactly he is still in the past or whatever fever dream he is in. Sure, making friends with Harry Potter had been a dream for the first four years at Hogwarts, but now he is getting increasingly tense with the situation.
It's the sorting hat that tips the scales for his confirmation of where he is.
"Ah we meet again Mr. Malfoy."
"What"
In his first life, the hat had barely touched his head before sorting him.
"Playing games with level ten I see. It's good to see ambition such as yours learn new ways to thrive. Alas duty calls. Hufflepuff maybe, such daring could go to Gryffindor,but never well thought so Ravenclaw is not for you."
The horror of possibly being Hufflepuff is enough to have him cry out in disgust. Him a hufflepuff! He will find a way to burn the disgusting hat before it could say Puff"
" Ah well I suppose it’s good to have some creature comforts."
“Slytherin!” It bellowed out into the hall. 
Draco broods at the slytherin table after all he knows where everyone will go.Until the hall goes silent. He picks up his head only to find Harry Potter striding towards him with a smirk. 
Oh no! He has ruined everything. He thought this was a dream or a coma. The afterlife may have thought why he got to be happy was baffling. He’s a slytherin. Any random good fortune should be analyzed before moving forward. On the contrary maybe that is why most of his schemes against the golden trio did not work out so well. Now he  was with the speccy boy as a slytherin. "Merlin, I'm an idiot'
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Draco I was sure you were headed for Hufflepuff and I wasn't sure how I could get into that house with you. " 
"What of course you could get into Hufflepuff, I mean hardworking is a trait isn't it? And you do that, at your aunts with all the chores you talk about. Though academically you were a bit lazy. Loyalty is a pretty trait uh except does it count if you still disobey the people your loyal to cause i dont you like to do that very much, maybe your problem is authority figures ya know?"
Harry was busy looking at the professors to catch that Draco words were just a smidge suspicious. Regardless once he tunes back in the mumbles of the blonde he taps against the top of his temples. 
"Oy stop trying to sort me into another house. also you should watch your words, I think i'm rubbing off on you. What would your elocution tutor think of you using words like yaknow? "
Draco sighs deciding this is a future problem. or maybe he can run it by the savior himself. Obviously an 11 year old potter was able to take care of problems since he entered Hogwarts. 
It's seconds before their first potions class that he remembers Uncle likes to ask difficult questions that he pulls Harry aside and whispers.
Draught of death, Aconite and Stomach of a goat.
Harry, who has decided that Draco is really just a dumb blond with some kind of divine foresight, does not question him at all. 
********************************
Fast forward throughout the year, Draco keeps trying to help but just ends up helpless until Harry saves him.
Then because there were no clues, Draco just straight up asked, if someone was going to steal something and if you touch their hand they probably disintegrate into what would you do?
Uh well you could try to steal the thing first so that they can't get to it but if you just stopped them by holding hands then why not just hold hands? Is this a hypothetical, because you can just ask to hold my hand if you're scared.
Draco dares Harry to hold Proffesor Quirrels hand and double dog dares him to hug the professor. 
Harry was a Gryffindor for a reason in his first life. The DADA teacher turning into dust in the middle of the corridor was not what anyone expected. Harry however is unphased, sure the black cloud was a good effect but it will take more than that to scare him Draco Malfoy. Draco has decided that Harry is insane. 
The duo is seen bickering because Draco refused to tell his best friend how he was able to make the black smoke appear and why he had his father fire the DADA teacher. Harry didn't hate Quirrel that much, though the smell didn't help.
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knotabottom · 4 months
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wet tdick warms the heart, cleanses the soul, and fills the mouth
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ineffablefool · 7 days
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gahhhh the last few weeks I have been starving for fics or art where Aziraphale is clearly, legitimately fat (with adoring attention paid to his physical features which are associated with said fatness) and also clearly, legitimately loved ("desired" would be okay but oh give me cherished, give me treasured and held dear and, again, adored)
and I know that this is one of those things where I should just be the change I want to see in the world, but the last few weeks I have also been [flops face-first onto bed and doesn't move for 45 minutes], so clearly that is not happening
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gatzbright · 4 months
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find me in the future
[a dnf howl’s moving castle au]
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Dream: George ... I'm going to blow up. Come with me.
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Dream: That's my boy!
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dreaming up dream and george in nunki @demonstars Howl's Moving Castle au. happy birthday nunki !!!!! ur howl dream au means Everything to me &lt;3
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appalesbian · 2 months
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I have once again been enabled.
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cloudburst-ink · 4 months
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🌈 Free the gays from weird heteronormative top/bottom discourse 2k24!!! 🖤 (And by extension, the dom/sub associations that go with it!! Which are also a completely separate though sometimes overlapping concept!!!)
Write your violent angry murder blorbo getting railed!! Make that sweet shy angel baby a top! Make them both verse and throw the concept out altogether because it’s inherently a bit silly to start with!! ✨ And your personality in the rest of your life often has nothing to do with your bedroom preferences anyway! ✨
Or don’t! Do whatever you want because it’s fanfiction! 🥰✨ Write them with whatever dynamics or lack thereof that you want—that’s the point! And no one can tell you what is and isn’t okay to write in your own fics!! 🎊 They're fictional characters, have fun!!!!!
Happy new year fellow fandom gays!!! Go wild!
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waterfallofspace · 5 months
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Anyone else ever just... so burnt out/unfocused, couldn't imagine writing anything if you tried, but then... then...
The Hyperfixation Hits
and suddenly there's a google doc open and you've written 500 words of albeit, probably nonsense before you even stop to blink?
Or is that just me~
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*jungle sfx*
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athenasparrow · 10 months
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Another ✨ coming soon ✨ announcement because I'm very productive these days!!!
– All In The Name of Science –
Summary
Science is supposed to be objective and clinical with data and beakers and clipboards. Never in a million years did James imagine it could be like this.
Snippet One
“You want me to what?” James splutters, sure he’s misheard as he stares wide-eyed at his childhood friend, the unrequited love of his life, and currently, the woman asking him to be her fake boyfriend so they can join a research study on the female orgasm – and yes, apparently he’ll have to give her one.
Snippet Two
“You can touch yourself if you want,” Lily says and he nearly chokes. “Dora said it's okay as long as you don't touch me - okay for the research I mean.” Right. The fucking science.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 24 days
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...
#it's an old frustration. an old pattern of thought.#i just feel that i have a brain that doesn't hold information. that lacks the discipline to gain knowledge. that is incapable of deeper#thought. and i cant teel you how maddening that is. to sit in a room and listen to other people discuss a paper you read in depth 5 times#like it's the 1st time you ever heard anything about it. how is that possible? how do i work with that? i read and nothing sticks.#nothing stays with me. how??? i was talking to a prof recently who ive heard is hard on her students with disability accommodation. and she#was saying how she doesnt see these things as a disability. how we're just different not disabled. ive heard the phrase differently abled#a lot of times. and i get what she's saying. i do. ad i get why she's hard on them. she wants to push them. but there comes a point where#you are quote unquote differently abled and you run into a wall that other people dont have. then what are you supposed to do? work harder?#but what if that doesn't help? what if that just compounds the hurt that's always been there? what if that leaches away all the wonder? what#then? at what point does a thing become too much of a barrier? i think there's a reason i dont run into many other dyslexic grad student.#everyone has adhd. it's a place where those with adhd prosper. but dyslexia not so much. at least not with the level of hanicap i have#and everyone's really nice. they want to help. but there's nothing anyone can do for me at this stage. it's up to me to compensate for my#leaky head. and i kno im not stupid. ive got a piece of paper stating my iq is above average after correcting for uneven intelligence. but#i dont feel very smart most of the time. i feel more like my uncorrected iq score that comes out at just below average even with me trying#my very best. iq is bullshit but there's something to be said for that gap. im smart if unconstrained by language and time. but were bound#by language and we're bound by time so what am i supposed to do? is there anything i can do? im stuck with this forever. theres no getting#better or making it easier. my brain is wired in a way that gives me the reading skills of a child. forever. and i just have to accept that#and im trying to swallow around that idea easier because the only other option is to choke on it. but maybe i chose the wrong career path.#one of my lab mates said she wants challenges all the time and ive chosen a path that's challenges all the time but im jsut trying to do#what everyone else can without a second thought. it's deeply demoralizing. yet here i am. trying to be easier abt it.#maybe im just nit cut out for this. doing a job im not built for.#unrelated
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