I'm Gabby. 30s. terfs DNI Hope you like lesbians. And fiction. Mostly fictional lesbians. Also meta/au's for Supergirl, The West Wing, Leverage, and attempts at calligraphy Current hyperfixation is KPDH
clenching my teeth and muttering under my breath "you'll be happy you did it you'll be happy you did it you'll be happy you did it" as I physically force myself out the door to go Do Things
being very firm with myself every time I think about bailing and saying "no. you committed to this. it will improve your quality of life. you will enjoy it. now put on your big boy pants and go."
Honestly my first draft of this post said āmy neighborās sonā and then I was like wait a second thatās functionally the same as saying āmy cousinās sister.ā Thatās still my cousin and thatās still my neighbor.
The nine-year-old was literally driving the vehicle after knocking the gear shift into Drive apparently by accident. Seven- and five-year-olds in the backseat. Nine-year-old knows in movies people stomp down on the thing on the floor and the car stops. He stomps. It is the gas.
the paparazzi loves you. the paparazzi loves you. smile and wave, boys, rumi thinks, and has to fight a hysterical laugh at the mental image of the penguins from that silly zoo movie as she draws a shy smile across her lips and waves prettily to the clump of photographers. from this angle, she can't see any of their faces. just baggy-suited bodies and cyclopic cameras flashing, flashing, flashing in her face.
it's enough to make her pity them, really; for all the effort they put in tracking down her and celine when they're out and about on the town, they don't actually see anything. not the scars and cracked ribs hiding under her clothes. not the weapons always close at hand.
'do you want to speak to anyone today?' celine asks her, a guiding hand on her shoulder.
rumi nods.
celine doesn't show her doubt in front of these people but rumi can feel it in the way her thumb brushes her collar, grip turning weighty for one possessive, protective moment. her smile covers the near silent,
'you don't have to.'
'it's fine,' rumi promises, and over the tang of blood in the back of her throat she can barely taste the lie.
the truth is that rumi's desire to speak with reporters is always nil; the truth is that her ability to speak with reporters, or anyone at all, comes and goes. and she can talk now, which means that she really, really should. the truth is that talking to the reporters will help their cover for last nights fight and the truth is that the fight is more important than the fact that rumi aches today in a way that means bobby probably wouldn't have let her out of the house if he had seen her.
so. she talks to the reporters. she charms them with a few comments, compliments the tie of the second most important reporter in the crowd, and lets the camera people take a handful of more flattering photos than whatever the paparazzi snapped of them coming out of the mall.
yes, she's enjoying the holidays; yes, she loves university but she loves being home with celine as well; they don't have big plans but there's always a family meal; her degree is a double, civil engineering and science medicine, she's always been fascinated by the science of it all and celine encouraged her to go for it and try her best; no you may not ask what i bought, celine will find out and it's supposed to be a secret - ah drat, now she knows i'm her secret santa this year. well. let's keep that between us, if possible? thank you so much.
it's easy. until it's not. until one of the reporters asks the question they've all been dying to ask but rarely dare to actually say out loud, always speaking around it.
she knows what he's going to ask before the words come out. something about the lean, mean smile he gets as he shoves the microphone into her face.
'rumi! you and celine have RSVP'd to the mayor's christmas gala next week, and you never miss the gotham light show -- how does it feel to be surrounded by such festivity on the anniversary of your parents' deaths?'
it's almost a relief, really, because now she has a reason to leave.
celine goes tense. her society mask drops for a second, brutally cold eyes fixing on the reporter. rumi hopes he doesn't have a family. he'll be out of a job by this evening, she's pretty sure. rumi steps closer to her aunt, taking her hand before she can do or say something she'll regret; to the reporter, she fixes him with her own cold look and tells herself that it's as satisfying as breaking his nose would be.
'it hurts.' the you moron goes unsaid, but she pairs her statement with a withering look that ought to convey it pretty well. she intends to leave it at that, she really does, but anger gnaws at her, her cracked ribs, her throat, her gums like its fangs want to come out, bared to all of these fucking morons. her belly is empty of everything but acid. 'it hurts. all year round,' she tells him. 'you think i wake up one day a year and remember to be sad about the fact that my parents are dead? one day? you think seeing other people being happy makes it hurt more? they're dead, you fucking moron--'
rumi clamps her mouth shut, clamps her eyes shut, clamps her hand shut tight around celine's wrist. fuck. she's totally fucked it.
'i - i didn't mean - '
'that's enough,' celine interjects.
within moments she's pulled them out of the mess rumi has made. rumi tunes back in when she says something about visiting gotham central hospital and that christmas inspires the spirit of giving and community and won't the public join them in donating to the family fund for the hospital to provide a holiday experience to the families who won't be able to go home for their celebrations.
'rumi,' celine says when they slide into the back of the car and nod for the driver to take them back to the mansion. 'what was that?'
rumi turns her head away. stares out the tinted window at the dark, brooding arch of her city. the scowling faces of the grotesques high on the buildings. she wishes that it was night again. she wishes that it was night and she wasn't in this stupid normal person costume but in the purple-and-black of her hunting armour. that she was flying across the rooftops. that she wasn't being asked questions about her dead parents--about how it feels to have christmas bells and carols ringing, ringing, ringing in her head like she doesn't hear them year round, like the jaunty silver tinkle of the bell over shop doors doesn't make her flinch, like a dark alleyway doesn't sometimes send her spiralling back to being ten years old and terribly afraid and terribly, terribly alone.
'sorry,' she mutters, sounding sulky to her own ears. 'i didn't mean to.'
'that's not - okay,' celine sighs. 'it's alright. he shouldn't have asked you that.'
'sorry,' she says again.
'i know. just - i'll ask bobby to help me with the shopping when we get home. you head up to your room and get some rest.'
'okay.'
out of the corner of her eye, she watches celine struggle. her hand extends halfway across the space between them before freezing and retreating back into her lap. then she too turns away and stares out at the city. rumi closes her eyes and closes her teeth around her tongue, a cage for all the things she'll never say to her aunt.
somewhere between the gotham lullaby of sirens and the mansion, rumi lets herself fall into sleep.
@hamletthedaneās tags:
#Vincent Van Gogh is crying somewhere in the after and Iām crying just thinking about that#you knew!! you saw the patterns!! there is a whole planet painted in the oils from your brush!!#TIL that the craft Juno went as close as 4000km from Jupiterās weather surface#for context: the craft was closer to Jupiter than NYC is to LA#which is space terms is like. basically being on the planet#holy shit
I cannot find that image anywhere except Tumblr and Facebook? (I would love it if someone could share a proper source!)
However, some (confirmable) images from NASA of Jupiter:
Found here.
(An image taken by JunoCam during Juno's 25th perijove pass on February 17, 2020, inspired citizen scientist Rita Najm to enhance its color and contrast and to give it the impression of a painting that's ready to be framed. The original JunoCam image used to produce this view was taken from from an altitude of about 7,900 miles (12,700 kilometers) above Jupiter's cloud tops.)
Found here.
(The Juno spacecraft captured this image when the spacecraft was only 11,747 miles (18,906 kilometers) from the tops of Jupiter's clouds -- that's roughly as far as the distance between New York City and Perth, Australia.)
Found here.
(This color-enhanced image of a massive, raging storm in Jupiter's northern hemisphere was captured by NASA's Juno spacecraft during its ninth close flyby of the gas giant planet. At the time the image was taken, the spacecraft was about 6,281 miles (10,108 kilometers) from the tops of the clouds of Jupiter; the spatial scale in this image is 4.2 miles/pixel (6.7 kilometers/pixel).)
Found here.
(When taking this image Juno was about 7,050 miles (11,350 kilometers) from the planet's cloud tops.)
Found here.
(Juno took this image of colorful, turbulent clouds in Jupiter's northern hemisphere from 8,292 miles (13,345 kilometers) above the tops of Jupiter's clouds.)
Found here.
(NASA's Juno spacecraft took this color-enhanced image as the spacecraft performed its 13th close flyby of Jupiter. At the time, Juno was about 9,600 miles (15,500 kilometers) from the planet's cloud tops.)
There is more information about each of the images available at the source link, and there are many more images in NASA's database of both the Juno mission and a lot of others.
The key to writing good fanfiction is to harbor a deeply humiliating desire, and the trick there is that even pretty basic and societally-accepted desires like ābeing heldā and ābeing wantedā CAN and WILL be humiliating if theyāre intense enough. Become so estranged from human connection that the idea of someone playing with your hair fills you with yearning so deep you feel like youāre going to throw up and you will write some banger fanfiction. It might have some other consequences too but idrk about that.
LOST RYU FOUND! HEIR TO THE RYU FORTUNE GOES HOME WITH ADOPTIVE GUARDIAN KIM CELINE. MORE ABOUT KIM'S IDOL HISTORY PG 12.
//
'is it true?' bobby demands, pushing open the door to her study. he doesn't have to knock - he never has to knock - but he always does; that he doesn't now tells celine all she needs to know of the worry, the worrying hope, that nags under his skin as it does her own. 'you found her? you found rumi?'
'yes. at least - i think so. yes,' celine says again, less sure than the first time. 'it's her. i know it's her. but ...' her fingers brush the black frame on her desk. the photo is glossy bright, the most colourful thing she has in here; rumi, her pristine grade-school uniform smeared with paint and grass, one knee skinned, socks fallen around her ankles; rumi hand-in-hand with "aunt celine", who hadn't managed to escape the pink-green-electric blue paint smearing onto her blouse, and hadn't cared; rumi smiling like the point was to see how wide she could get it to go, ear to ear, two teeth missing from the lineup.
'she doesn't remember me, bobby.'
'it's been seven years. longer than she knew you.'
celine shakes her head. turning the frame, she fiddles with the latch until she can remove the photo from inside of it. folding it, she tucks it into her pocket.
'it's more than that. i looked into her eyes.' you found her? you found rumi? she hates, suddenly and fiercely, that the answer is no. the girl she found is her niece, without a doubt. but she is not rumi. her thumb brushes the photo in her pocket before she draws herself up to her full height and plasters an appropriately concerned look on her face. 'we'll be back in time for dinner, i hope. prepare her room, please?'
'of course. go, go,' he insists. 'bring our girl home.'
//
'miss ryu, there is someone here to see you,' the nurse says at the door of the room. her voice is irritatingly sweet. it sounds like she is talking to a toddler instead of a twelve-year old girl. 'it's your auntie, miss celine! we're coming in!'
celine clears her throat. it stops the nurse, who glances back at her curiously.
'if you don't mind...' she flicks her fingers and the nurse steps back. celine takes her place and knocks politely. 'rumi? my name is celine kim, we met last week? may i come in?'
there is a long pause. then, the door creaks open an inch.
she's quite tall for a twelve year old and shockingly thin. she looks like her father, celine thinks as she had the week before. then almost immediately changes her mind when rumi opens the door a little wider. that trust, that stubborn hope that flickers like a tiny ember in her mismatched eyes, was all mi-yeong.
the nurse bends over to smile at her. celine isn't quick enough to hide her distaste from rumi - she's twelve - but that seems to earn her some interest. rumi points at celine and nods, opening the door wider. when the nurse tries to follow, the change is immediate, dramatic, desperate. she makes angry lines with her face and body. the growl that tears from her throat is feral, frightening.
celine can't help but notice more - how she steps back instead of forward, how her hands come up, defensive, how she shakes. how she twists to make a smaller target of herself.
'she won't be joining us,' celine says before she can think it through.
rumi doesn't seem to understand. maybe she doesn't hear.
'just me,' she says. points at her chest. 'just me. not her.'
rumi's jaw--square, strong, far too sharp--works and works. she nods. steps back deeper into the dark room.
celine wavers in the doorway. it's not truly dark within the room; even with all the lights out and the blinds snapped shut, it's impossible for it to be truly dark. the city doesn't like to be ignored; its lights push through the blinds like neon fingers and its noises melt into a drumming cacophony, a stormless storm. even without being dark, celine feels her chest get a little tight. she shakes the fear away with years of practice and follows little rumi in, shutting the door carefully behind her.
the sun is a sickly orange color today with a haze of smog blurring its edges. it truly looks like something you would use in a scifi movie to clue the audience in that something has gone very wrong
okay I'm gonna need you to explain what "thawing" a cheese means to you. is it bringing a cheese out lf the fridge and wait for it to be room temperature? is it heating it up so it's gooey and soft? i need to understand
No the cheese isn't frozen or cold. I don't know what other way to describe it as other than thawing? It makes a noise occasionally and when it stops it's usually done thawing
What process are you doing to thaw cheese. where do you keep the cheese such that it's not thawed. Which physical properties of the cheese change between thawed and unthawed
no no no i refuse to let this rest until i fully understand
so you. FREEZE the cheese? and then when you want to use it you. THAW it. that's what I'm getting from this conversation. is this correct??
also this might be important: what type of cheese are we talking about. cottage cheese? hard cheese? fake cheese (cheddar)? because i think i might be picturing the wrong type of cheese
What I don't understand is the PROCESS. like what is the ORIGINAL STATE OF THE CHEESE. is it just the state it is in when you buy it in the store. or is it cold. or is it room temperature. or is it warm.
and what is the exact process?? microwaving?? warm water??? just leaving it outside in room temp?????
please I seriously need to understand the PROCESS the cheese undergoes. if step-by-step instructions need to be spelt out then so be it but i really REALLY wanna know what's going on
Unfortunately I can't. I'm at work right now, and I'm heading out on a trip in 2 days so I already cleared out my fridge so nothing'll spoil while I'm gone. But trust me I'd absolutely do that if I could. This is really frustrating and I GUARANTEE if you all saw it you'd immediately recognize what thawing cheese is. I seriously think I'm just unintentionally using a niche regional name for it which is causing all this confusion
ill have you all know that the entire time I was gone i couldnt stop thinking about this so im DETERMINED to show you all not only WHAT thawing cheese is, but also what the SOUND is so i can FINALLY have an answer to my ORIGINAL GOD DAMN POLL
i have nothing in my fridge and im tired rn from driving 6 hours so instead of going to the store i'm just gonna swing by my aunt's place and see if she has any cheese that needs thawing
Here's some of the notes, starting with the things multiple people brought up:
SHRIMP COCKTAIL:
banahbanah: #flashback to that one fic where Peter Parker frets about drinking shrimp cocktail because of the alcohol
generaldeliciousness: adding: what a prawn/shrimp cocktail is
#why is your character turning it down because they're under 21 #do you think prawn cocktail is a cocktail #this lives in my brain rent-free constantly #the rest of the fic was so normal #and good enough that i'll still re-read it #but bro
And then many, MANY, people wondering if this was actually authour mistake, since Peter really would do this!
POMEGRANATES:
zhajhassa: #haha where's that post that was like someone describing someone eating a pomegranate but they ate it like an apple
thornhands: #once someone wrote persephone biting into a whole Pomegranate #had to stop and stare at a wall for a minute
sungsingsanguine: I once saw someone very confidently write about a character eating slices of pomegranate.
FRUIT TREES:
zagreuses-toast: #given a very endearing glimpse into a writers blindspots by seeing them describe someone sitting under a ''pineapple tree''
salatrash: I remember something about picking watermelons... OF A FUCKING TREE
baander: #cranberry trees
DOUGH/BATTER:
maycelium: #I'm a chef so I'm really used to people not accurately describing how to cook food #But I was surprisingly flabbergasted when someone was writing making a cake and was kneading it. Which uh #Not necessary for cake. It was interesting for sure but just bizarre
livebloggingmydescentintomadness: #the one that drove me nuts was when a character set aside a batch of PASTA DOUGH 'to rise' #pasta doesn't have yeast!! #it does need to REST but it will never RISE #you do not want an airy crumb on your noodles
lovesodeepandwideandwell: #THE ONE WHERE THEY MADE COOKIES BY LADLING BATTER INTO A TRAY
Some other topics:
ANIMALS:
catenarwhal: #mandatory 'how cows produce milk' mention#i'll never recover from that one I fear
piromantic: #one time i saw someone fake their way through describing how spiders behave
pluto-lichen: horses
misskittypotter: #stardew valley faking its way through what fresh fish smell like
pa-pa-plasma: #saw someone faking their way through knowing what a seal is once #i still am fucked up over that one to this day. they just straight up did not know #& they were NOT good at guessing it either like it was clear they had never googled that animal ever #& was only just now realizing via answering questions from anons that seals are not!! what they assumed. initially
SEX:
dykevandyke: #what a prostate is #and where it is located #as in. external.
dreamyeyedrose: #I remember back in the ff.net days reading an Ichigo/Renji fic where the writer assumed the penises go inside each other #and I was like āI mean I don't know how it works for sure I don't have one but idk if that's how it worksā
SOME OTHER FOOD STUFF:
thetrekkiehasthephonebox: #add another one to the list bloggers#this character is cooking a salad
shosta: #still baffled about the published work that didn't know food could freeze
sun-dari: #once i read a fic where the author didn't understand cinnamon
alto-tenure: #read something recently where the author was just. blatantly wrong about spices
dramatic-dolphin: #i saw someone try to fake their way through what ramen is once. like 14 years ago.#but i remember.#i was very confused about ramen for a few months. they were writing it so authoritatively.
the-celery-stalks-at-midnight: #i will never ever forget someone putting leftover fries in the microwave to reheat them and setting the timer for five minutes
typeghost: #this sparked a memory of a hannibal fic where the author had to fake their way through writing about gravy
draculin: #the one fanfic where the author knows about coffee only as a concept wrote a character as a coffee drinker#was very interesting#I don't remember the fandom or the plot but I was mesmerized by the coffee actions and choices
11235811235811: #there's a lot of faking their way thru congee in the svsss fandom i'll also note
fishali3n: #read one where the person clearly didnt know what tofu is
emmy-everafter: #in the aftermath of shadow and bone s2 i saw a lot of people pretending to know what stroopwafels are #babes they are more like cookies than breakfast waffles #like yes there is a waffle pattern but you're not gonna cut into a stack of them with syrup and sugar#š¤£š¤£š¤£
NON-FOOD STUFF:
red-umbrella-811: Shoutout to Dame Agatha Christie for faking her way through what a wrench is in a very popular published work.
bluebeetle: #once saw someone have a character put an entire phone book in their pocket
nonametis: #- sex talk in languages other than english #<- or just the petnames in a different language other than English
sadisticpony: #the fanfiction i saw this week where op DIDNT KNOW HOW AUTOMATIC DOORS WORKED #and that they arent in peoples homes!!! of course. also opening the automatic door for someone is unironically very funny but its not #its not like. grabbing the door handle to let someone in. helpppp
danmeichael: #reminds me of the fic with the figure drawing class where the character started with the feet. #i love you feet first figure drawing author
meowmix1100blr: #me watching this one fic absolutely obliterate what the board of directors does
vexedhexes: #one time i read an architect character making a doorway bigger by building a bigger door #what a beautiful world. #OH. also gravity falls fic where they go 'oh piedmont is in california so its warm all year round'
leveragehunters: #characters going to a beer garden #And it's literally a garden outside the pub#It was a very cute mistake
fitofpique: #yes! #grown men do not get blind drunk off two beers #but i am possibly guilty of the hypothermia one #assuming it does not make you very horny?
dadvans-likes: #always thinking abt the soup kitchen fic #the entire setting of the fic was 'soup kitchen' #and i very quickly realized #the author did not know what a soup kitchen was #and they thought that soup kitchens only served soup #fic
msmargaretmurry: #i love fanfiction #once read a fic where the characters played 20 questions #but the author seemed to not know how to play 20 questions and was just kind of winging it........ #immaculate
shakespeareaddict: #Look I know not all of us are hockey experts #But it takes about ten seconds of research or any attention paid to the show to realize #That the Stanley cup playoffs are not in fucking September
baejax-the-great: #the funniest one i saw #was someone faking what church is like #like 1. they really didn't have to write an entire church experience for their fic #and 2. they had clearly never even watched a show where people went to church #it was bonkers weird
twosunson: #things ive seen authors faking #knowing how to unclog a drain #knowing. literally any history #knowing what ketamine looks like (apparently- oregano) #(you know who you are)
waterhorseyblues-ao3: #beltane being celebrated in winter #wales being portrayed as a completely separated land from england (i wish) #characters getting up after weeks of bedrest like that dosnt completely fuck you up
violetfairydust: #i once read a fic where the flight time from london to seattle was 3 hours
purekesseltrash: One time, in a fic set specifically in Des Moines, IA, two of the characters casually drove 20 minutes to the ocean. The memory continues to delight me. I want to know where that author thought that Iowa was.
"Oh yeah, we have an outdoor Corgi, he just gets so bored cooped up inside all day. He knows to stay off the road. Don't worry, he's way too smart for coyotes and the neighbor's know to look out when they drive past."
"Us? Oh, of *course* our Dachshund sleeps inside- we just let him out in the morning and make sure he comes back for dinner. He just does his own thing, no worries."
"Um, you know it's not humane to keep a chihuahua confined to an apartment? They're dogs, they're natural predators. They need to experience hunting behaviors or they get depressed. No we don't leash ours, he absolutely hates it, we just let him come and go whenever."
Yall get how fucking stupid that sounds, right? So stop letting your goddamn cats get eaten and attacked and infected and hit by cars
A toddler would probably love full unattended access to the neighborhood too, but we don't do that either, do we
It's 2026, "keep your damn pet in a house or in your view" should not be controversial
Okay wait wait wait wait. Tiny baby teenage Rumi who is a very popular but not especially befriended kidādoesnāt really know how to connect, is so overwhelmingly forward and bright that everyone thinks of her as a social butterfly despite thatāand knows sheāll be having Her Hunters TM soon observing her schoolmates like an amateur anthropologist. Writing notes about how these friends share food, how those watch the same shows, how those two girls made matching friendship bracelets. Asking Celine what it was like getting to know her mom and getting frustrated when Celine tries to tell her about Miyeong. Making all her little plots and plans for how sheās going to make sure they will have the best bonding experiences ever
Oh my gosh, this pinched something in the feels...
An angsty something.
Picturing little teenage Rumi, with her Copious Notes and Bonding Plan and fantasies of what it'll be like to become friends with her Hunters.
Picturing her meeting Mira, a riot of pink and limbs and a bitterness that sears the air through clipped remarks and barbed looks, always angry, always guarded, always disappearing behind a slamming door.
Picturing Rumi trying.
"So, do you like historical dramas? There's a good one coming on and-"
"No."
"...Oh. That's okay! What kind of shows-"
Slam!
Picturing Rumi trying.
"I've got a ton of really pretty beads; wanna make friendship-"
Slam!
Picturing Rumi trying so hard.
"It's a nice day out, Mira; wanna go for a walk? Or we could garden with Celine-"
"Would you just stop?"
"...Okay."
Picturing Rumi stopping, because...isn't this what friends do, too? Listen to what they want and...stop.
Picturing Rumi lying awake at night, staring at the shadows crawling across her ceiling, wondering where she went wrong.
Celine had always said her Hunters would be her soul mates; that they'd be the most important people in the world to each other; that they'd be her best friends.
Like her girls were with her.
But Rumi's pretty sure Mira hates her, and that if she hadn't signed a contract with Sunlight she'd already be on the ferry back to the mainland.
She certainly isn't acting like a soul mate, even less like someone who wants to be friends.
What did she do wrong?
Picturing Rumi reviewing her notes, brow creased as she replays the scenes from the cafeteria and playground and halls she committed to memory, analyzing them.
No, she did everything right. Then...
Her throat goes tight.
Then the problem must be her. And she knows where all her problems come from.
Celine says Mira's fated to be a Hunter, and though she has yet to learn that part of her future she must already know, in some deep part of herself, that Rumi's...wrong.
A mistake.
Her patterns throb.
And who would want to be friends with a half-demon?
(Picturing Mira, who's been burned too many times to want to reach for the flame even as she craves its warmth;
who sees all Rumi has- a house where she's allowed to play stupid programs on the TV without being told to turn it off, a pile of craft supplies she can use without being scolded about wasting her time, a mom-type-person who wants to spend time with her and loves her- and is pained by how unfair it is;
who finds it's easier- safer- to be angry than sad).
Zoey, who was always the odd one out, always too weird, always too forward. Had ADHD and all, but not in the cool, comes with superpowers way like in Percy Jacksonāin the āMom says itās not an excuse, and Dad just tells me to be quietā way
Zoey, whoās had enough fresh starts to know this one probably wonāt be different, but not enough to stop her from hoping. (Celineāactual, for real, Sunlights Sisters Celineāgave her a contract. She said Zoey had potential. Thatās the kind of thing Zoey used to daydream about.)
And she arrives at the hanok to find Rumi, who seems surprised every time a loser like Zoey gets up the courage to say something to her that isnāt āpass the salt, please?ā or directly related to training
Not that sheās, like, mean about it! But Zoey can tell when she isnāt wanted. When sheās pushing her limits. And sheās always pushing her limits with Rumi
(Donāt think about Rumi, trying so hard not to make the same mistakes, to remind herself that Zoey wouldnāt want to be friends with her and she shouldnāt force herself on her, she needs to make sure that Mira and Zoey, at least, can get along, so she should keep her distance)
And then thereās Miraāitās like no matter how hard Zoey tries to get along with her, she canāt! If she asks what Mira might want to do, if she tries to join her while sheās doing something, god forbid if she tries to suggest something she thinks Mira might likeā¦ Zoey just doesnāt get it
(And donāt think about how Mira might find Rumi and her perfect fucking lifeā¦ irritating, but at least Rumi was honest. At least she actually thought her corny friendship bracelet idea was cool. And Mira maybe kind of agreed.
But Zoey? Zoey shapeshifts minute by minute. Zoey thinks banana milk tastes kind of weird, until Mira says she likes it. Zoey offers up nothing real, and that means everything about her is dangerous.)
Donāt think about Zoey, watching herself ruin yet another fresh start, crying herself to sleep, pulling all of her shame together and going up to Celineās home office the next morning, ready to ask if she should just go or if Celine still thinks thereās some way she could do this right, muttering different ways to ask to herself as she tries to find the least humiliating
Donāt think about Zoey, walking straight into Rumi in the hall, looking up into her concerned face and bursting into tears again because there was no possible way she could ever deserve this and Rumi knew it
Donāt think about Rumi, tugging Zoey into her bedroom in the main house, throwing the teddy bear on the bed onto her lap for her to hold and panickedly doing everything she can to help calm her down, being so impossibly gentle with Zoey while sheās freaking out
Donāt think about Mira, being sent to find them because sheās the only one who turned up for their morning run and Celine is pissed, overhearing their quiet conversation from the end of the hall. Cringing as Zoey sniffs and says Miraās been so mean, no matter what sheās tried, and bracing herself for Rumi to agree, becauseā¦ fuck āem. Theyāve already written her off, just like everybody else.
Donāt think about Rumi, still so gentle, instead saying, āMiraās not mean! Sheās justā¦ selective about who she likes. Iām sure sheāll realize how great you are soon.ā
Donāt think about Zoey, sitting there looking at Rumi, starting to wonder if maybe she isnāt as screwed as she thought.
Donāt think about Rumi, hoping that sheās right and that Mira hasnāt written Zoey off as someone too close to Rumi.
Donāt think about Mira, out in the hall, ache in her chest, trying not to let herself think it isnāt too late for them to forgive her.
"You know what's harder than Getting Better? Living Like That" is just the thesis for my whole shit going on right now honestly. You know what's harder than doing my physical therapy? Hurting All The Time. You know what's harder than addressing my gender dysphoria? Hurting All The Time
I'm Doing The Hard Thing and it's *easier* than how I was living before. If you make yourself feel better you will have more energy to spend on Getting Better. Nice inch nails - the upward spiral. Crawl out of your grave Thursday
Hey so that was a great date, yeah, but I don't think it's going to work out. Nono you didn't do anything wrong, and I have indeed had a crush on you since we started high school, it's just... well, I didn't want to bring it up at the time but we kinda got sucked into a portal fantasy midway through. We saved the kingdom over and over, relying on our knowledge of and trust in each other every time, throwing ourselves into the firing line to protect each other and using each others' conviction as a rock. We got married and lived a happy life together until the portal sucked us back mid-battle and you gave up all your memories of our journey in order to save my life right when we ended up back in the coffee shop. Yeah that was when I got a bit weird and went to the bathroom.
Anyway I thought we could push on and make the date work but I have all of these memories of secrets that this you never chose to share, decisions that this you never made, and intimacies that this you never experienced. And it's kind of screwing with the vibe yeah. Also on the date it was really, blatantly clear that you're sixteen whereas I have memories of ruling a fantasy kingdom for thirty years so like... that's a problem all on its own. Anyway this you just feels more like a daughter to me. A daughter with the woman I gave my heart and soul to over and over and received like in return, only to lose her forever on the journey home. On the plus side I can definitely help you with your math homework now.
