#so yeah i am. very comfortable talking academics and theory and things but. shit in social situations. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mariaiscrafting · 3 years

Note

I read that long answer you had to that ask about gender and I just started typing and this happened aaaa

I wanted to say if you don't already know Oyèrónkẹ́ Oyèwùmí, I think you would enjoy her work!

She goes into a lot about how gender categories were diverse, not necessarily tied to anatomy and in many ways very, very porous when compared to the European system.

If you wanna dig into the meat and bones of gender as a social construct theory, she definitely gets in to it and does not skirt around the fact that when discussing it things like colonialism and capitalism cannot be ignored.

I'd also suggest looking into how anarchists view gender and it's origins/function 👉👈 totally not biased because I am an Anarchist but some of the most refreshing perspectives on gender across the board have come from trans anarchists just saying :')

And bro I won't lie when I first realized I wasn't cis, I felt trapped in a box and like I had to have a full grasp of who I was and what labels/pronouns I wanted to use immediately- I had to justify myself at every turn to cis people and if I was even slightly flaky they would corner me in the box of cis-ness that comes with ideas like "male brains and female brains" and "born in the wrong body" and transmedicalist language among all these other things we often hear flying around as explanations to debate the very existence of trans people.

When I learned about the connection of pre-colonial gender systems to queer and trans emancipation/resistance- I won't lie to you, it got a lot easier to understand who I was and what it looked like to both be trans and fight for trans rights/visibility. Like it fostered as much of a sense of liberation as it did a quiet sense of frustration when I started reconstructing the very idea of gender in my mind down to the very definition.

I was mostly frustrated because I realized much of the language trans people, especially young trans people, use to talk about themselves was being dictated by cis people just so cis people could "understand" it's just... Not good. Like plain and simple.

I'd argue cis people aren't owed some easy way to discuss or swallow down something they will never understand, I don't even care if that sounds harsh- but cis people discussing gender around trans people is a lot like watching someone try to put the square block through the circle in one of those kid's puzzles. It's cumbersome and embarrassing smh.

Sorry that was super long and a pretty random thing to drop in but I enjoyed reading what you thought about the theories of gender and your own personal dealings with gender identity/ how you view expression vs. identity! It's neat to see how others look at all that stuff and how their ideas of it grow and evolve over time.

And I think if you're questioning things and feeling like you're not cis- go buck wild dude! Keep reading up on things, and move into your own individual understanding of your gender- that's honestly super awesome and I wish you the best of luck!!!!

This is honestly probably the best ask I’ve ever gotten. I’m 100% going to check her out, tysm for the rec. On queer anarchists, I fucking love their perspectives on gender. Some of the best shit I’ve read on gender came from trans anarchists, and it’s so refreshing compared to what I usually have read in an academic setting - that is, mostly cis ladies’ writings lol.

Honestly, I think one of the primary things that got me to start questioning my own gender in the first place was when I broke away from the language cis people use to rationalize the trans experience. Like, before, when it was explained to me as “born in the wrong body” and “always knew I was x” and in terms of binary trans experiences only and in the perspective of transmedicalism, etc., etc., I was like nope, no way I’m trans. But once I got rid of those kinda reductive notions on gender and what it means to be trans, and started learning from trans people who were redefining gender and sexuality for themselves, I realized that it’s not as simple as that - that I didn’t have to fit into this box of the binary trans ftm who has dysphoria and feels like they were born in the wrong body and figured it out via wearing pants and playing basketball when I was little and wants to bind and get things like facial realignment surgery, etc. Like, the subject is so much more fluid and complex than what I was first taught, and it was just so fucking freeing to finally realize that.

But anyways, yeah, I would say, right now, that I am “cis-ish”, I guess, just because I don’t know where I stand and am uncomfortable with about 101 things when I think about my own body and gender and mind. Honestly, I look at younger people who aren’t even that much younger than me - only by, like, 3-5 years, tops - and the culture they’ve got going online, in Discord and Twitter and Tumblr and Tik Tok and I’m fucking glad that so many of them seem so comfortable with the fluidity of the subject, so much more comfortable than I am, and that they can adapt so easily to differing theories, identities, perceptions of others and theirselves, expressions, names, pronouns, etc. Lol that’s kinda the point of ease and comfort I hope to reach one day, I suppose.

But seriously ty for this ask :) It makes me feel less alone, and I am for sure going to check out your recommendations!

#asks #gender #gender identity #not mcyt #whoops we got into social theories on the mcyt sideblog my bad yall #Anonymous

5 notes · View notes

milesabovenotch · 5 years

Text

Our Lucky Chance

BTS x Hogwarts!au

Ravenclaw!Kim Namjoon

Hufflepuff!you

Words: 4625

Genre: Fluff

It’s absolutely devastating for a guy like Namjoon to think about other things beside school or classes, or studies. Moreover, about feelings.

He has that uptight aura of a geek whose nose always buried in books when he actually isn’t. He’s just reserved and saving energy not to socialize with people who’ll exhaust him more, because he always need his alone time. That somehow made him to always find a way to make things easier to do and easier to understand. And this mostly applied to academic matters.

But not for this kind of matter. Relationships, being honest with his feelings, all that jazz. He has seen many from his gang of lousy friends, but teenager Namjoon lacks experience. Especially since he just realized whom he wanted to ask to the Yule Ball. Whom he wanted to spend the so-called festive night comfortably. Which was you, his very recent study-slash-library friend.

“Oh shoot, is it October already?” you whispered as the sudden realization hit you. You both were in the library, on the same spot every week. “Slughorn said the essay should be done by the first week of October and I’ve been practically avoiding nothing but that..”

Namjoon smiled as he too answered your exasperation in whispers, “Well, technically it’s still september 31st, so you still have approximately 7 days until the end of the first week.”

“Yes but even years wouldn’t be enough for Potion.” You surrendered and finally closed your Muggle Studies—your newest favorite subject because you just found a perfect way to learn it, once a week meeting with Namjoon and interrogating him who has a muggle dad about the real muggle world, in a different perspective. You’re a hufflepuff with pure blood lines (not that you care), but your parents went to different houses. Your mother was gryffindor and your father was ravenclaw. They said one family tends to be on the same houses but the theory doesn’t work for your family. But in a way you got a different perspective about each houses and maybe that is why you are rarely judgemental, you are used to think that houses don’t divine the people. You don’t quickly judge a person based on their houses. You have many friends from several houses you met on several very different occasions. You met Gryffindor Jungkook in an addition class of Magical Creatures, you met Slytherin Jimin near the Forbidden Forest to catch Almond, his escaping calico cat. And apparently, they belonged to the same group of friends. A lousy gang, actually. One thing leads to another, it made you meet Namjoon, the street smart Ravenclaw. Slughorn’s all favorite boy.

“I am very lucky to have you here to escalate things up.” you laughed when you finally clear up the table and pack up, “when did you finish yours?”

“Yesterday.” He answered as he squeezed a bunch of new book he’s borrowing from the library to his black book bag, the one he always carried whenever he went to the library.

“Wait,” you suddenly remembered something. Even only once a week meeting with Namjoon, you already know his clumsiness, “Didn’t you say something about meeting Seokjin before dinner? It’s like, five minutes to dinner now, Joon!”

“Crap!”

And he fled, leaving his book bag he just packed. A very Namjoon thing to do.

“Jin! My kindest friend, the most capable, the—“

“Stop your shit Joon, I don’t want to talk to you.” Jin walked past him in the corridor without even looking at Namjoon. He was supposed to meet Jin for his experiment about transforming Pixy Egg to a-popping-firework-egg for Easter or something, basically to make it more festive and he completely forgot that.

“But i have found the book about Pixies!” he searched for the book but he realized he’s only holding his wand and nothing else, “..where’s my bag?”

Jin only rolled his eyes for the nth time,

“There- you- are!”

You came on the exact right time to bring the bag. For a second Jin gave Namjoon a knowing look you didn’t realize when you’re catching your breath after crossing the whole corridor carrying two heavy bags around.

“So you’re the reason I got stood up. How predictable—aAW“ Namjoon stomped on Jin’s feet in panic.

“Despicable, he meant despicable. Thanks, by the way.” Corrected Namjoon. He stopped there to see you grinning, your black and yellow tie a bit distorted and your messily clipped hair is a bit messier than usual, but you still managed to get him whipped anyway.

“No problem. I’ll head to dinner first, bye you two!” his eyes still following your figure getting smaller entering the Great Hall. Even though you are literally smaller by a head than Namjoon, resulting in you always have to look up whenever you two are talking.

“Have you asked her yet?”

Namjoon jolted from his thoughts, he almost forgot he’s standing next to Jin, “-yes i’m still here, brat.”

Namjoon sighed and suddenly remember how determined he’s this morning to ask you to the Ball, but everything just vanished whenever he saw you talking. “Not yet.”

“What makes it so hard, eh?” Jin asked as they walked to the feast.

“What makes—are you kidding me? i’m not you!” Namjoon felt offended, “I suppose you already asked someone?”

“Yeah, i asked Joy, the 4th grader i told you about. And not before turning down Lucy, Clara,..”

And Namjoon chose to busy himself chomping whatever it is near him instead of listening to what Jin said in their table. It is Ravenclaw’s table where Jin’s not supposed to be sitting, but it’s their thing. Even if only two person at first sitting together there, in minutes there will be five more to come. They just came to reunite on whichever house table they chose.

”Oooh, someone’s grumpy here.” ..Taehyung sat next to Namjoon. And then came another curious eyes and ears around from Jimin and Jungkook.

“Let me guess,” Yoongi has always been the quietest to approach them, but then suddenly talking as if he was there all along, “So between us 7, only you who haven’t asked someone out to the Ball?”

“What??” Namjoon felt betrayed, “So you guys already have plus ones?”

“Of course.” Jimin answered while munching the potatoes, “We agreed that today’s the deadline, right?”

“No, we didn’t.” Namjoon protested, “It’s tomorrow by breakfast!”

“Same thing. You only got an hour or two until bed time, what’s the difference?”

“All the difference in the world! it’s tomorrow, okay? Let me just eat my dinner in peace.” The crankiness was getting to Namjoon’s nerves. While the rest of the gang were joking and teasing each other about how they asked their dates to the Ball, Namjoon couldn’t help but looking for you on the corner of his eyes.

You were there, as ordinary as usual. Chatting and eating with your hufflepuff friends, surrounded by some girls giggling about something Namjoon didn’t know, approached by a guy..

Wait. What?

A gryffindor guy, what’s the name, Mino or something? Just approached you boldly on the dinner full of everyone, easily spotted, with a bouquet of rose, something Nerdy Joon would have never done. Besides he would rather not announced it publicly, he also knew very well that you don’t like red roses. You prefer yellow roses or tulips. What he couldn’t believe was that he himself was getting there, he will approach you after dinner before you go to your common room. He was just late by minutes, and here he had to watch you answered to Mino’s request? What a mess.

And by the way you blushed, accepted the bouquet, and teased by your friends (not to mention a big fisting yes! gesture from Mino, walking gallantly back to his table received by his friends as if he’d saved the Wizarding Community), Namjoon knew he’s late late. And suddenly, the grilled chicken in front of him didn’t seem so appetizing anymore.

“Hyung, come on.” Jungkook nudged him, apparently all of them also saw the hurtful scene before, “You know i would gladly sabotaged him, right?”

“Or i could crush him on tomorrow’s quidditch? I could fly the bludger towards him..” Jimin, slytherin’s beater already offering some kind of heroic actions.

“Thanks, but no, that’s a very muggle high-schooler thing to do.” Namjoon sighed and look at you. For a second your eyes met him, and shyly nodded your head and back to eating you soup. “it’s her decision, after all.”

But he didn’t finish his dinner.

“Would you go on a date with me tomorrow?”

That was one unexpected line that came out from Mino. Because the whole castle is on roaring attempt of getting plus ones for the Yule Ball but here he is, only asked you to go on a date with him tomorrow.

“I thought you were gonna ask her to the Ball?” Seulgi besides you gasped when seeing the beautiful roses pointed at you.

“Maybe? But i think we deserve one date for the sake of knowing each other, right?” Mino said nonchallantly, pointing his sharp eyes at you.

You are not one to prepare to be approached like this. You are not that fond of anything done.. publicly. You are not as charming as Slytherin’s Joy, or as bright as Seulgi, or even as pretty as Irene. You are just.. you. The not-so-prepared-for-a-surprise-you. That’s why you blushed when you accepted Mino’s roses. And pretty much no word came out beside a nod. Because no further harm could be done because of accepting one date, right?

The next day Namjoon met you at Potions, because you both were class partner after all, you shared the same cauldron today because apparently Slughorn just wanted a teamwork for this Felix Felicis finishing. Namjoon just hoped that he could be as lucky as this light liquid on his life.

“Why are you so quiet today?” you asked him, “did something happened?”

Namjoon stopped his daydreaming, “No, not at all.” But he’s not a sore loser, with you or not, he’d have to go to the ball and you’re his—well—friend after all, “What’re you doing after this?”

“Oh—“ suddenly you bit your lower lip, “You know that Mino guy from gryffindor?” yeah, as if i didn’t see it yesterday, Namjoon held his breath for a second, “he asked me for a date today, so i said yes.”

“I saw it. The rosey gesture huh.” he stirred the liquid until it turned bright, almost transparent. “what did you do with the poor flower?”

“Gosh, i feel bad so i just left it on the corner of my common room. This morning, a house-elf already put it on a vase, i’m guessing Winky, she likes to decorate.”

“One day i left a note on top of my holey socks and asked any house elf to help me sew it. It ended up with a flower pattern, Winky doing. To be honest i prefered them holey, thank you very much.”

You laughed at how Namjoon grunted. And you thanked God at how Slughorn was seriously talking to Henry who had a football player muggle-dad.

“Actually.. is it okay i have worries for the date? I don’t know Mino that well.”

Maybe, it’s time for Namjoon to take the bait.

So he said, “But do you like him though?” nonchalantly, yet his hand got colder at the same time.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I just met him twice at his quidditch practice when i was waiting for Yeri, and we just talked for a bit. Do you know him? From the boys?”

He’s a snobbish proud artsy brave young man—impossible if he said the truth, right? So Namjoon just went on saying, “i also met him only on several classes. Jungkook said he’s an okay flyer after all.”

“’Okay’, huh? i bet Jungkook doesn’t want to lose his fair flyer title, after all.” You giggled. “speaking of which, why haven’t I see you fly?”

“the sky doesn’t suit me, girl. Don’t you remember how i tripped every 10 steps? I don’t want to embarass myself tripping up in the air.”

“Hey, i have a very good idea!”

It’s your eyes that Namjoon always hold on to. Your excited eyes, showing some little dimples around your upper cheek. He could see you like this all day and don’t mind at all. But now, he just couldn’t stop, “What?”

“I promised you i’ll go with you seeing the Thestrals, right? Isn’t it tomorrow?”

“Yes, to help me tend them because i can’t see them..” Namjoon is blessed by haven’t seen anyone died. Unlike you, back when you were young and there was the famous War of Hogwarts, before that the Death Eater were dominating. You saw one of your muggle neighbor got killed by a death eater right before your family called you to Disapparate. So, yes, you could see Thestrals.

“We could try riding them!”

“You mean you want to see me floating in the air on a something i couldn’t see?”

“It’s like riding a horse, i promise you. and besides, you could hang on to me in front of you.”

That took an amount of consideration for Namjoon to think.

“Okay kids, wrap up! I will test your Felix.” Suddenly Slughorn called and interrupted your conversation.

“Whatever, i will meet you tomorrow at 4 pm behind Hagrid’s Hut.” You whispered.

Namjoon spent the rest of the afternoon in a blur. He perfectly knew you and Mino would go sightseeing on the lake, to the quidditch field, and he practically had been avoiding almost every window just so he couldn’t get a glimpse of you or Mino. He’d rather not knowing anything.

He’s just lazying around in Ravenclaw’s common room nearing twilight when suddenly a fourth year girl—Doyoung?—approached him.

“Hey, Namjoon? There’s a hufflepuff girl waiting for you outside.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know but she said to pass the message.” And then she left.

He wanted to think that it’s you, with your cancelled or failed date with Mino but would that be harsh?

But he’s right about one thing, it’s you sitting on the stairs just beside the Raven of the Ravenclaw’s common room door. He wanted to believe that it would be him who would lighten up your long face. You looked exhausted and spent, humming to yourself a muggle song—Good together by Honne, introduced by Namjoon through his iPod—while closing your eyes. Namjoon approached quickly and sit beside you.

Of course you opened your eyes instantly, because every movement Namjoon did including some harsh wind blown and a little bit of vibrations on every surfaces he touched, so people will easily know it’s him.

“Hi! Am i interrupting you?” you said to the tall man beside you, whose legs taken up two steps below the one your legs were in.

“I didn’t expect you to come, but no actually.”

“Let’s go meet the thestrals now!”

“Now? An hour before dinner?”

“Yes pleasee?”

And he couldn’t ever say no to that pleading eyes of yours, so he nodded.

Several minutes later after some attempt of stopping by the kitchen and asked for some raw meats from the house elves (one elf even said to Namjoon “Would you like a whole seasoned raw lamb, sir?”) you both were behind Hagrid’s hut, heading to the forest you acclaimed to have been there several times before. Namjoon stayed close to you with his bag full of meat.

The sky had become so orange reaching the twilight, a shade of red around the round sun looking like a perfectly round egg yolk Namjoon had for breakfast. It was not too windy or too dark yet, some said it’s the-

“Perfect weather to fly, don’t you think?” you also stopped beside Namjoon to look up at the sky, “One thing i love about this place is the silhouette of the Astronomy tower. That makes every scenery i see from here a thousand times more beautiful. Aesthetic, like it comes from a paintings.”

“It is a painting, don’t you think?” Namjoon answered, “Done by a whole different Great Force out there that we mere humans couldn’t surpass, even with the most magical magic there is.”

“You now what, Joon. I love how that sound. Perfectly said.” you converted your eyes to a whole another scenery beside you, a built young man looking at the vanilla sky talking about the Great Force endearingly. “You always admit that there’s a Greater Force above us all, that’s why you always walk around keeping your head down. Because you know, we’re not superior enough to feel superior.” You ended that with an endearing smile on your face.

Was that blush you see coloring Namjoon’s face or it’s just a reflection of a phoenix passing by? Nonetheless, it looked good on him. You always thought about how he was the sweetest person alive, with just the right amount of clumsiness to cloud his extraordinary cleverness and soft heartedness. How can someone not like him? Even you think he was so precious, on how he always treated people beside him carefully and little creatures beside him carefully.

And you always liked the way Namjoon simply said your name, like now. “Listen, I—“ he looked like he wanted to tell you something important, but then he got pushed away to your right looking stunned. Of course he was, it’s caused by a young Thestral nosing his bag too passionately, pushing his shoulder to the side.

“Oops, tripped on my own foot.” He finally came to his own wrong conclusion.

“No, Joon. It’s a thestral!” you said excitedly. “Oh my God it’s here.. i wish you could see it. No, i didn’t mean it that way, but-“

Namjoon chuckled when he said, “I get your point, silly.” And he proceeded to see you stroked something in the middle of an empty air. Just like how the book and the way you described it, he imagined you stroked its nose on its bony anatomy. You reached Namjoon’s fingers and lead him to stroke the thestral on the previous part you touched. Namjoon made a weird sound between gasp and an audible grumble.

“it feels.. weird? A bit cold and hairy, don’t you think?”

“But it doesn’t have any hair on the part you touched.” You laughed seeing him scrunched his nose, thinking hard about the texture he’s touching.

And after that you and Joon feed the thestrals, because after the first time you and him gave the young thestrals a slice of meat (and Namjoon was fascinated on how the meat seemed to gone bits by bits by itself) several other adult thestrals came to see you guys.

“They’re gentle beings, often being misunderstood because of their looks, Hagrid said.” your eyes soften seeing them eating.

“Sometimes i get what he said, but sometimes he just got too innocent to realize that a giant horned being 10 meters high being capable of breathing fire when approached doesn’t equal as adorable.” You both laughed at what Namjoon said, “We’ve run out of meats, by the way.”

“Then maybe it’s time to fly! Hi there this is our last meat, would you let us fly with you?” you said to a tall thestral you’re feeding on.

Several minutes later you were already sat behind its neck and convincing Namjoon that it’s completely safe up here. With the help of your hand and a wingardium leviosa later, he cramped himself between you and the thestral’s wings. Because of the little space, your back had to completely stick to his chest.

“Sorry if this is uncomfortable.” Said Joon. Part of you felt shy but it’s Namjoon, a guy you knew well and trust completely. So you took a deep breath, reminding yourself that there was supposed to be none to be palpitating about, and yet your heart still gone too fast to your liking. You just hoped Namjoon wouldn’t feel it on his chest.

Little did you know, Namjoon panicked. He didn’t know what to think, where to touch (it’s not like i’m thinking about touching anything, he thought worriedly) but this is the first time he will fly with thestrals, of course he had to be sure about anything. Just like how he had to be sure about something he denied often recently.

“Is it okay if i hold onto the neck?” he said.

“Joon, i know you have long arms but we both will lose our balance that way.” You said after one long thought. “You can hold on to my...waist. please don’t get me wrong there’s no other way! Except you’ll lead this thestral to fly then we should change position?”

“But i can’t fly!? What should i do?”

“Okay.. let’s not panic here. The thestral could feel it. Just..” you touched Namjoon’s flailing hands and made it rest on your waist where he held that awkwardly. “Let’s do this!!” you shouted that happily and encouraged the thestral to fly.

Namjoon has tried flying with broom before. And never, not once he felt anything like this. Namjoon felt like you navigated the thestral gracefully, even though it felt awkward at first to have wings flapping beside his resting feet. But later he got used to it and it felt like he is entrusted to something bigger than him that could take him anywhere he wanted with his wings. In mere seconds you both reached the top of astronomy towers, where the sun felt closer than ever before and you both took a moment to see the beautiful sky upclose. You navigated the thestral to spin and make you both go around the castle twice, looking at students from around the castle walking to the Great Hall because it’s almost dinner, turn south until you reached the end of the forest, and finally flew down near the lake.

The thestral stopped at the open space by the end of the lake. Finally Namjoon climbed down the thestral, thanking him and reached out his hand to help you down. His hands were cold and sweaty as you remembered, and at the same time the thestral lowering his neck to drink from the lake, causing you to stumble down. Luckily, Namjoon was there already to catch you and held you steady on his chest.

Hearts thumped rapidly, you both still had increased breathing from the excitement because of the flying experienced from before. Thoughts on the adrenaline rush can’t seemed to reach higher was definitely proven wrong. Because when your eyes both met for a moment, that second made you both lost on each other’s gaze. You knew Namjoon could clearly see you blush because you, too, could see clearly his wavering eyes and the way his adam apple moved because he gulped.

You both let go of each other after you both went to your senses, and you sat next to each other watching the thestral drink.

“Thanks for the flying experience today.” Namjoon patted your head.

“Thanks for flying with me.” you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. “I sounded like a muggle flying attendants right now.” The silence after your laughter felt assuring, somehow.

“I kinda get it now.” Namjoon said with confidence he found suddenly, “Why you like flying very much. It’s like reaching another experience that gives you strength, in a strangely beautiful way.”

“Fly often, then? Just for your own peace of mind, no pressure.”

“I could never navigate as well as you, though.” He looked at you, sincerely complimenting.

“Thanks, Joon.” You rested your head on his shoulder. “i knew it. I could never be as assured as when i’m with you.”

“What happened? Is it about.. the date?”

“Let’s not call it one.” You sighed. “it’s just an attempt of saving his face between him and his friends, because apparently he boastfully said that he could date any Hufflepuff as well as he could win his first Quidditch game. His friends want prove, so.”

“What??” Namjoon felt his blood boiled, not just because of your proximity but for other reasons, anger, he supposed. “Completely dumb things some Gryffindor would do.”

You nudged his arm out of habit because of his stereotyping about houses, “Well, at least he had the audacity to tell me beforehand. Because, i quoted, he said ‘I don’t want you to get your hopes high or something, because i already had a date for my Yule Ball’ ”

“Shit.”

“I gave him one by saying ‘well you better say thank you because i accidentally saved your face once, and i’m not going to do it again because you will go against me on your first Quidditch game, of course there’s no way i’m letting you win.’ And i left him in an instant to go flying with you. shouldn’t have said yes afterall.“

“Damn, girl!” Namjoon laughed proudly as he circled his arm around your shoulder and stroked your arm. “Didn’t know you could be that savage.”

“I could! But just, i’d rather not experience anything like that again.”

“No way in hell. You could trust me.”

The pause in his voice made you turn your head and looked at his face, “Meaning?”

“Because I..” Namjoon knew it would be his chance, this. Right now. Just you both alone (don’t count the Thestral), not in public. A very Namjoon way to do. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to the Ball.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It’s been you in my mind all along.”

Your smile grew as you could feel how sincere he sounded, “Joon..”

He grasped your hand between his big ones, and entwined your fingers together before mumbled, “If you would like to, of course.”

“Of course i want too.” you tightened your fingers around him. “I would love to go to the Yule Ball with you!”

His dimpled smile was the most precious thing, following his cresccent eyes. He smiled with his face, he smiled with his whole body, emitting a sense of security you found rarely in anyone else.

“And if things..go right,” he said, “after the Yule Ball, let me tell you something important.”

Your forehead creased, “Why not now?”

“Because,” he stroked your knuckles with his thumb, “dinner has already started, and i’m hungry. Haven’t had anything decent since you told me about your date.”

You chuckled and he stood up still taking your hand.

“And because i think i could feel the thestral nudged me to get him one more slice of meat. Bet Hagrid has some. I owe this one for my flying date today.”

“So i still had a date today, but with you and not with Mino?”

“I’d be most delightful to revised your horrible—erm, encounter, before.”

“That’s settled, then. I had a great date today. Thank you, Kim Namjoon.”

“I thank you, madam.” He pecked the back of your hand slightly before laughing hard seeing your confused yet smitten face.

“that’s cute, but what are you doing?”

“I think Darcy has gotten into me.”

“Who’s Darcy?”

He sighed, “Clearly you have to be more educated about Muggle classics before becoming my girlfr—oops.”

“Come again?”

“Nope. Dinner, now.”

You teased him about his resurfaced shyness. He told you nothing else, just walked and held your hand through the Great Hall to eat dinner between his circle of friends. Jimin teased you both and Jungkook drank a whole pot of pumpkin juice as a celebration of whatever this is. But seeing Namjoon’s laughter, making his effort to eat with one hand because he still wanted to hold your hand below the table, you knew that you were in the right hand all along.

#bts fanfic #bts rm #bts namjoon #bts hogwarts au #bts fluff #bts oneshot #bts scenarios

70 notes · View notes

cyanpeacock · 5 years

Text

Realtalk(tm): Living With Ada Doom

ALRIGHT. so. those of you who have read Cold Comfort Farm know exactly where this is going.

so, when I was a kid, my mum would get drunk, and sad, and tell me about how awful her mum was, all the depressing shit, and she’d cry on me, you know, the works, the kind that should go down with a counsellor, or therapist.

I don’t remember it clearly. I had to like, switch off, you know? Mummy’s sad. I’m sad too. It’s going to be okay. Stroking her hair. That’s about all I remember, apart from the pain I had to hide to make everything better.

Except, it totally wasn’t okay, because I was giving my drunken mother comfort, and the next day she was giving me smacks, and isolation as punishment, and denying me food when I was rowdy, as children are.

Later, she’d give me a book to read, called Cold Comfort Farm.

It’s a good book. It’s a parody of things along the lines of Wuthering Heights, you know, mopey miserable out-in-the-countryside romance novels where everyone is abusive, but That’s The Way It’s Always Been, Out Here.

Flora comes along and fixes everything right up.

Some part of her wanted me to be Flora.

A good, proper, refined young woman. Stately. Observant. Academic. Very sporting.

I am not Flora.

I was very nearly Ada Doom, the woman who saw something nasty in the woodshed. Well - for a while, I thought I was her, but I didn’t have control over a farm/family. I wasn’t holding all the books.

This phrase got used against me a lot - “something nasty in the woodshed.” It translated to, “you’re overreacting, be quiet,” in the circles I moved in. Often delivered as a joke, but actually, a warning.

Flora was not, actually, a very nice woman, and she was not, actually, very nice to Ada Doom.

“Did it see you?”

The point I’m continually making, is.

I didn’t see something nasty in the woodshed, once, when I was a child.

I saw a whole fucking lot of nasty things, all around me, in my own home, that chased me into my bedroom, that physically, verbally, and emotionally abused me, for over a decade. I heard other nasty things going on, in rooms I wasn’t in, but sound carries. I saw and heard even nastier things happening between the only Adult Role Models I had.

This all seemed very normal, until I had an assembly on abuse in primary school, and recognized myself in it.

I told myself, “mummy loves me. It’s not really abuse. Is it?”

I told myself this for years.

Skip to the future. It’s easier for me.

Later I ran away somewhere a bit cleaner, to live with a racist opioid addict. It was fucking awesome, for a while, but yeah, that’s another post. He’d also use “something nasty in the woodshed” against me, or just say “Ada Doom.”

My mother would chatter things about “he’s brainwashing you! Mind control!” when I did see her at the same time as him, separately. It’s like she didn’t realize he was only using things he’d seen her use on me. She probably didn’t, because they’d probably been used on her, and she hadn’t spotted the conditioning.

So, in this story, what did “Flora” turn out to be?

An angry, inhibited, explosive, snappy, hungry young man, who just wanted to get high, forget about the past, and go to lesson, so he could learn something that would get him out of this shithole, and into a decent home, with a car that runs and a job that pays in the wallet, mind, and heart.

I hid so much of the pain I was in, because when it was actually expressed, I’d get dismissed, belittled, or outright yelled at, even after the physical hitting had stopped.

She always said, “you know you can talk to me about anything, don’t you?”

So I’d try, like a kid, who desperately wanted to believe that his mother did “love him” - that is, knew how to give emotionally healthy and nourishing expressions of love.

And time and time again, I’d get, “I think you’re overreacting.” “Isn’t that a bit extreme?” “It doesn’t mean anything.” “They’re just jealous.” “You’re imagining things.” Or, you know, “I think you’re being selfish.” “Selfish little cow!”

So there I was, my self harm getting worse and worse, the pressure my piece of shit school placed on me getting worse and worse, hearing Mark fucking cussing me out again, becoming increasingly abusive towards myself and people I really, deeply cared about, because I had literally no understanding, no framework for internally and mutually rewarding loving interaction.

I don’t even remember what happened. Shit went down, mother had got a “boyfriend,” they were going to get married, they split up, I was caught in the middle because I was a kid who never really had a dad and desperately wanted one, I got used as a pawn in a game of chess between two emotionally unwell adults who couldn’t agree to break up without causing an enormous fight and dragging their entire circle of Facebook friends into it. It was really ugly. Like, one of the friends died, and shit like “good riddance” was getting thrown about. It was really ugly. I wanted so badly to get involved and break it all up, but yeah, fuck Facebook, I didn’t use it, still don’t.

So, I ran away to live with the one who’d caused me less hurt, the racist opioid addict, because at least he could see me as a son, while the drunk was still transphobic as hell. That’s the other post, for the future.

But yes, Ada Doom followed me there, and according to them, I was still living in the woodshed.

But I was supposed to be Flora. I was supposed to be good, nice, and orderly, and I was accepted while I was these things. If I wasn’t, I’d get a verbal slap in the right direction, through this insidious fucking phrasology tied in with a long, long history of emotional manipulation.

This all started with my mother, and her mother, and probably her mother before her, and a whole line of absent fathers.

I’m the one who noticed this, and decided, “no more of this shit. No more of this shit. I am never bringing a child into this world so full of pain, and I have no idea how to fix any of this on my own, and the people who are supposed to help me don’t, and I don’t fucking trust anybody enough to let them in.”

I’m the one who noticed this was abuse. I’m the one who started reading, trying to understand the inside of my head, getting it wrong, getting it right-ish, doubting myself, always coming back and really thinking “fuck, that is so much like me” to conditions that arise as a result of complex, long-term trauma.

I’m the one who made the jump into homelessness when the racist opioid addict became unbearable. I’m the one who went into a hostel while I was doing my A-Levels. I’m the one who passed them. I’m the one who saw a counsellor every week and just fucking sobbed because there was nowhere else I could cry like that without killing myself.

I’m the one who read about psychodynamic theory, and fundamental interpretations of the structures of psyche, and thought about it all myself, how it might apply to my brain in particular. I’m the one who read intently about complex trauma, and healing from it. I’m the one who learned about EMDR, and figured out I could do that with good stereo music, and tapping my hands and feet on the bus. I’m the one who studied very specific parts of the DSM V, over and over, circling and circling until I zeroed in on the places that fit well enough to help me understand, find resources, and recover.

I’m the one who read very, very, very closely about marijuana, the endocannabinoid system, and its relation to trauma. I understood this was drug abuse, and dependency, and that dependency and addiction are almost interchangeable. I’m the one who knew I didn’t really want to smoke until my mind burned away, unless I couldn’t Make It at university. I’m the one who smashed my pipe in July, and hasn’t wanted to smoke again since, and doesn’t really want to go back, but will if he falls/fails.

I’m the one who learned to meditate, just drop out into a trance, for minutes or hours, with and without drugs in my system, with silence or with music, and now increasingly with background noise, although that one is REALLY difficult for me. I’m the one who learned all those weird skills like “noting” and “radical acceptance” and other things I’ve forgotten the name of but notice as different states of consciousness.

I’m the one who knew all this psych work was supposed to be very dangerous, you shouldn’t do this if you aren’t A Professional(tm), but I’m also the one who knew I didn’t trust a single fucking “Professional” to do the right thing, make the right referrals, administer the treatment properly, after being betrayed and forced and dismissed by so many so-called Professionals.

I’m the one who decided, in not so many words: well, fuck, it’s less dangerous for me to do all these things, and make mistakes trying, than it is for me to let somebody in, and receive another injury, at my most vulnerable.

The thing about Ada Doom is, she’s a character in a fucking parody novel.

You’re not Ada Doom. You’re not Catherine Earnshaw.

You can’t live your whole life making sad allegories through books that dig up your old pain without actually resolving any of it, because you’re reading ahead and projecting the romantic, ugly, fantasy conclusion onto what really happened, to your body.

It’s really useful! It’s really useful, for a long time, to connect with your pain through fiction. Forever, actually.

But I’ve got to get angry about being expected to be a character from a fucking parody novel.

“You’ll understand later.”

I understand. I understand why you did what you did. I understand you couldn’t control it. I understand why you showed me this book.

It cannot negate, diminish, or remove any of my anger.

I had to go to a counsellor, for years, research, for years, think and feel, for years, to find the right language and tone to communicate my experiences. I’m still learning. I’m especially still talking, because I haven’t been able to talk about any of this, because my mother wouldn’t let me. All she did was give me strange, roundabout books, that were good, and annoyingly on the nose, and say “You’ll understand later.”

If you’re saying that, if they’re asking the question isn’t it about time you explained?

Isn’t it about time you realized you need help explaining?

I can’t keep going back to a sad fucking house full of hurting fucking children. It drags me down again every time, although I really do cherish the moments where I could just pretend it was all normal and painless and easy to be a family. I really do.

And yes, I know, it’s circular, it’s not that fucking easy, because I couldn’t let anybody in, because I was “normal,” as far as my mother was concerned. I know I’m lucky I’m very quick, I learn well, and I’m completely fucking invested in research and execution.

I had to become these things for a sick, sick woman, who wanted a kid who would save/change her life.

It’s not a fairytale. I know it feels like one. I know it feels like Prince Charming is just around the corner, it must be soon, just one more page! The Big Bad Wolf is still lurking!

You gotta make Prince Charming. You have to make the person you want to marry inside your head. I’m getting there. There’s no ring on it. That might be the total illusion of self. It might not be. I don’t know what’s happening to my system, yet.

That voice in your head who yells at you, but isn’t you, but won’t tell you their name? Give them a fucking name. Think them up a face and a body. Go and learn some emotional regulation skills, slowly, because it’s really difficult. Revise them. Pass them along. Talk to them. They’ll stop yelling at you. You’ll be able to turn to them for comfort, and they’ll get all your jokes, because you’re sharing a brain, and the connections do keep coming your entire life/lives. They can be your partner, if you like, and they do too.

I don’t know what happens after that, and that is just this body/me/us/the irrelevancy of pronouns astounds me.

So, I’m very stupid.

I really did take the hood off my car at the side of the road with smoke pouring out. I didn’t know anything about what colour meant “get the hell away” or “it’s fine, just call the recovery van.” I just knew there was a problem, it needed fixing, and I didn’t have insurance.

I did it the stupid way. I touched it while it was hot. I tried using stuff I had in the back of the car. I walked to the garage, and they rang my mum? I walked back to the car and slept in it for a while, resolute in my decision not to go back to the garage again. I walked to the tool shop, and bought something to take that bit on the top off. I walked to the library and borrowed a book on cars. I bought more tools. I borrowed more books, this time on engines, because the car book was only about cars, and I had a problem with the engine.

I kept getting the wrong fucking tools, and the wrong fucking books, because all engines are different, and different tools fit different engines. I just compared what I had to what was in there, then threw the wrong crap into the boot in a huff, or whacked the engine with whatever size spanner I had at hand.

I went back to the garage. They didn’t know what to do, they couldn’t see the car, just somebody who read too many manuals, and was on drugs. I still knew I didn’t have insurance.

More tools, more books, still showing up at the garage, still getting dismissed, hating them more every time, them getting more and more bored of me. I was getting closer to fixing the car, but still making mistakes.

I found a mechanic, one who didn’t work with the garage. He let me tell him about the car, slowly, the way I’d figured it out.

He knew a few things about engines. We spoke about the garage. He was very sympathetic. We spoke a lot about the car. He knew more than a few things about engines, actually.

I got better at fixing the car on my own.

Unfortunately, all this walking was fucking my legs. I’d really like to get back in the car again, and go places quicker. All this work is really slowing me down from what I’d like to be doing. It’s also getting me to a point where I can do what I’d like to.

The car still isn’t fixed. I’m not sure what goes where next, or if this is actually the same engine I started with at all, but I have an idea what might work, and a mechanic who knows he doesn’t know the problem, but actually lets me tell him, unlike the garage.

So yes. Ada Doom is and is not dead to me.

The fairytale thing is great, but at some point, you gotta stop reading other people’s, and start reading/writing your own. But only if you’re that way inclined, and I said the bit before in a rude tone because I’m frustrated.

Long post. That’s enough.

I’m not Flora Poste.

#fliptext #trauma #drugs #abuse #neglect #uh yeah dude it's the whole shebang #lots of anger

2 notes · View notes

unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years

Text

oh, continuing on from too-long, incoherent post made hours ago when nobody was online, obvs, No-Friends Club members put ur hands in—

one weird thing i remembered is the Experience of like, time to put interpersonal boundaries in place by setting boundaries on My Own Emotions, you know what i’m saying! like for example the Cold Math issue of having no friends, where like, you have a few ppl who talk with you, and just like, thanks to proportions and statistics alone, on your end its like thank god for these noble few who are each like, 490% of the good interactions you get in life, the beautiful line of defense between you and utter isolation, and on their end its gonna be like, you’re a person they talk to sometimes. and that’s too easy to forget sometimes so i just commit to remembering it, and like, deliberately Not getting overenthused/overinvested about it, cuz it’s just not fun to sorta put the cart before the horse and then have the repeated realization that you’re really not going to be an official friend or whatever or that significant a figure in other ppl’s lives. rough!! you know what i’m talking about re: this experience?

it’s just tricky and i don’t even entirely have a handle on it to this day (tho a way better handle on it than when i had to figure out how this situation worked years ago) in part cuz like, actually, despite having been isolated in varying degrees for like, basically my whole life except less during college tho i often had Big Lonely problems then too, despite that and also despite anxiety ishes (issues) and discomfort with social situations sometimes for other reasons, i’m like, actually a real social person when its the kind of social setup i Can be comfortable with, which is a decent variety imo. and i really like people actually, if they arent terrible, and i really like interacting with them If They Arent Terrible, and in theory i would Love to have friends and that’s always been true. and im an enthusiastic and passionate person, what can i say, so it’s a funky time having to reign that in when yknow, generally, like “oh im excited to have a friend” should be a wholly positive sentiment that’s not gonna burn you as long as the other person isn’t evil. but! i do gotta rein in that sentiment. like settle down. like i was saying before about not “hoping” to have friends technically even tho of course i’d always like to and like, if anything erring on the side of caution and not being like, oh yeah these ppl who interact on occasion / amicably with me are my friends. undersell myself eh. if i have friends i’ll try to figure it out after the fact rather than overestimate connections and be disappointed ad infinitum or what have u

also! bring it tf in for ppl with “weird” social skills! losers since preschool or whenever you started being around groups of your age peers! having the intangible Vibe that ppl pick up on and you get sort of socially written off or the Sort-Of-Contempt which is loads of fun. and kind of operating on slightly different frequencies communication wise, or having your social / behavioral cues be misread b/c its not the “normal” meaning, all that kinda thing, so that your Trying To Be Friendly might be Weird In A Bad Way to other ppl, or your social discomfort getting read as “they don’t like us” instead of “they aren’t comfortable with some aspects of this situation”, etc etc etc.....it’s a bummer cuz like, thank god for online socialization b/c in a lot of ways for a lot of reasons its so much more doable for me, but there’s still ways it has downsides, like, i don’t like groupchats which is like, synonymous with We’re Actual Friends Now, so, tough break for me there, and i don’t often start talking to ppl b/c i don’t assume any particular individual would be interested in that and it takes ages for it to occur to me that anyone might, and i don’t think i always am that good at writing my thoughts and also just like In Person i often don’t know what/how to say things even with zero pressure and also just like in person i can be sort of cagey and Underwhelming......whereas IN person i can actually be chatty as fuck and often overtalkative and i like to Get Silly and all that shit. not to say im not underwhelming in person, too! cuz yeah most of the time im overly quiet and people are surprised when i talk or when i make reference to the fact i have Big Opinions and big emotions b/c they thought i just had an equally quiet inner world i guess lol.......like yeah!! on one hand i’m like woops im fucking this up cuz im holding back and on the other hand its like uh oh now im making a mess cuz when i dont hold back im generally not In Accordance With Ppls Tastes And Preferences cuz im being too much. sort of lose-lose-lose. me and cats are the same. also i ought to be better at initiating conversation but i’m crap at it cuz im like, lowkey constant assumption that if ppl arent talking to me they don’t want to and it’d be annoying to say something, which is not Correct. but also i’m always nervous and nervous about ppl. oh well, we’ll get there maybe

anyways i like when characters have no friends and it’s not for lack of trying/wanting them!! it’s a weird experience and ya love that Relatable Material. like its funny alana calling everyone “acquaintances” cuz im out here doing that already lol my friendly acquaintances......like ideally yeah it’d be nice to have close friends but i do appreciate Being A Casual Fixture On The Perimeters Of Someone’s Life And Maybe Sometimes I Get To Be A Small Positive Experience In Their Existence for what it is, but it Is fairly depressing being the fleeting NPC in the outer / tangential orbits of mostly everybody who knows you. c’est la vie!!!! it is both good and not good. anyway back to acquaintances. yeah like seeing that “earnest efforts to have friends but it fails for various reasons” is fun cuz like yeah!! population: Same! though i’ve never really been like that specific character. i also like the book “the murder of bindy mackenzie” and the character is kind of like alana’s too. an academically supersuccessful girl who tries to reach out to her peers but her methods don’t work and she’s misreading others and others are misreading her and she’s distressed about various aspects of her life and also, someone’s trying to kill her. though i wasn’t too much like those other characters either. i feel like luna lovegood makes the list, on account of she like, is just nice and friendly but nobody likes her because of apparently weird interests which shouldnt be considered weird but i guess that was a probably-accidental commentary on how arbitrary Social Acceptability can be, and also because she is sort of unusual in terms of her average demeanor, and that’s not really reason not to like her but not only does she have no friends but also people are just sort of mean to her. feels real man! fondly recalling the times i’ve had to realize in retrospect that people were actually making fun of me...etc etc...other depressing things......and shoutout to the black suits for having that collective representation of varying ways to be a weird dumbass with Issues who nobody likes. very meta that i’ve wished i could be in a shitty for-fun high school garage band for the Hanging Out With Friends aspect of it alone. nato is also great representation for “superlative academic performance but doesn’t actually care about school and only cares about like, a snail he saw today, and being a weird goofaround loser 24/7”

where was i going with this!! just adding on more ideas i guess. Tumblr Mobile Don’t Eat My Post. other lifelong members of the no-friends-and-it-sucks club @ me!! struggling with figuring out how to at least feel more okay with your crappy social experience because there’s no real way to feel good about it but we’re at least trying to feel less bad, @ me! we’re valid and we’re Didn’t Ask For This But Here We Are

10 notes · View notes

cece2046 · 6 years

Text

Close the Curtains - Chap 1

Thank you my beta @reynardinepttr! Sorry I'm shit at English apparently omg.

Teddy Lupin × Hermione Granger

FFN: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12748991/1/Close-the-Curtains

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12922338/chapters/29528235

@sissannis because... yeah.

I saw her and I said to James, “I’m in love.”

James was texting to Albus or Victoire or whichever cousin our twisted huge family has. He hummed. I waited. About ten text-sent pop sounds later, he jumped a bit and turned his eyes to me. “What?” he asked.

“I’m in love? That thing’s gonna get you killed you know, if you keep putting all your goddamn attention into it.”

James wasn’t having any of it. “You’re in love with who?”

“Whom,” I replied calmly. “With her.” I pointed to her as discreetly as I could manage.

James turned his head and let out a soft “whoa”.

I know. That’s what I felt several moments ago.

The thing about me that you have to know is, I’m a very calm person. You have to be if you want some degree of emotional privacy as a Metamorphmagus. You need to train yourself not to change your hair colour according to your favorite person in the vicinity. That’s very cute and all when you’re a baby. Still cute when you’re a kid, but once you step into teenage years, it becomes inconvenient when all you want is to “play it cool”, you know? And now I’m an adult, that’d be simply embarrassing.

I know my mum didn’t care about showing her emotional status for everyone not colourblind to see, according to hearsay from Harry or Ginny or Ron. But I’m not my mum. I’ve been told many times that my mum was a lot more chipper than me. I don’t know why they keep telling me that. Maybe they just want me to be happier by setting up a role model out of my late mother, as ridiculous as that sounds?

I sometimes think that even though I’m a Metamorphmagus like my mum, I’m more like my dad. Not that I know about him much, mind you, but a kid has a lot to think about when he’s an orphan yet at the same time he has thousands of family members. Have you seen the Weasleys? Honestly.

Anyway, I’m in love but I’m pretty sure that my expression didn’t change at all. Totally cool. This woman is gorgeous. Not in a super model way or something. She’s just so… I don’t know. I just can’t take my eyes off her. She’s different, like she knows a lot of things and has been to a lot of places, yet I can still picture her sitting next to the fireplace in the Burrow and drinking tea with a book on her lap. It’s unsettling, to be honest.

James is saying something.

I turned my eyes to him. “What did you just say?”

“She’s coming our way, mate.” James stuffed his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, seeming a little nervous, which is totally out of character for him.

She is coming our way. Yes she is. Suddenly I don’t know the purpose of my own hands anymore. Where should I put them? Why do I have them if I can’t come up with a comfortable place to put them? Do I look at her? Do I pretend that my phone buzzed? Do I pretend to have a stroke? Do I pretend to be high?

I don’t know what I'm doing and she’s in front of us. She might be in her 30s? I don’t know. I can’t breathe.

She opened her mouth.

“James? James Potter?”

What?

James visibly jumped. Chill, mate. She just said your name. It’s not like she screamed your name when she came.

Wait, what? What now?

“Yes, ma’am. I mean, My Lady. I mean, yes. Yes. I am. James Sirius Potter. James Potter. The Junior. Just James. I mean, yes. My pleasure. And you are?” James stuttered his way through it. I’m proud of him. I still can’t form a sentence.

She smiled. I’ve never seen such a smile before. It’s not sunshine or daisies or unicorns or rainbows. It’s a little warm and a little sad at the same time. It’s like that first moment when there’s a breeze and you realize that summer is ending soon, but it’s not unpleasant, especially if you’re a fan of autumn.

“I’m Hermione Granger. Glad to make your acquaintance, too.”

“Hermione Granger? You’re Hermione Granger? Oh my god. Oh my god. I’m such a fan. You fought next to my dad in the war, yeah? And your thesis on that new application of dragon blood is so inspiring!” James is beaming.

“Thank you.” She gave him another smile. “Are you taking me to Harry? Is that why you’re here? Harry said in the last letter that he was going to send you to welcome me, since he has this meeting that he can’t get out of.”

“Oh yes, definitely. Jeez, dad didn’t say that you’re so hot. What are you, 40 years old now?”

Way to go, James.

She didn’t take offence. “More or less.” And then she turned to me. She’s staring at me. “Teddy?” Her voice is somehow lower. She looks a lot younger at that moment, like a school girl.

I straightened. “You know me?”

She closed her eyes for a bit. “You were still very young when I left Britain,” she said. “No wonder you don’t remember me.”

And suddenly she’s hugging me. She’s tiny compared to me, but I still feel enveloped. Her hair smells nice. I don’t know that scent. I tentatively put my right hand on her back between her shoulder blades. I shouldn’t have done that, because now she’s hugging me harder. She’s so soft. I’m getting hard. This hug needs to stop. Right. Now.

She pulled back like she heard my thoughts. “Shall we?” That’s directed to James, who’s currently staring at me with a thoughtful look.

“Yes, this way, Hermione. May I call you Hermione?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m practically your aunt."

We’re driving to James’s flat in Muggle London and then taking the floo. James is driving. Hermione takes the shotgun. I’m on the backseat. James struck up a conversation about her academic theory about something. I’m not listening. I’m just feeling her voice and thinking.

It’s not a secret that Harry and Ron have a third best friend. They talk about her. Not a lot, but they’re not keeping her a secret from us kids. We’ve all been curious once, but the moment we got a textbook she wrote, the curiosity disappeared. You don't really get curious about your textbook writer. No one does. We all tend to avoid them. So all we know is that she’s their best friend, she fought in the war, and she left for academic achievements. Nice and easy.

Come to think of it, why hasn't she come back to visit? Ever? If she’s such a good friend of Harry and Ron’s?

James is enamoured. He might have a crush on her. I can tell. What about her? I can’t see her face on the backseat. Well, a little. I can see her left ear, partly obscured by her hair. It’s pale and delicate. I want to touch it. I want to lick it. I’m being weird. Her neck is there for me to observe, too. I know if she turns around this moment and sees me, I might as well kiss my chance with her goodbye. This is so creepy, staring at that little patch of skin like a serial killer or… skin… fanatic.

James saved me from myself. “Are you coming with us, Teddy?”

I turned my eyes to him. “Sure. Why not?”

He has this meaningful little evil smile in his eyes in the rear mirror. “I thought you had a date with a certain blonde?”

“It’s not a date. It’s just a drink.”

“So? Are you going or not?”

“I can cancel.”

James whistled. I know what’s on his mind. He’s such a child.

“Are you single, James?” Hermione asked.

James suddenly tensed. “Ah, no?”

Hermione laughed. “Is that a question?”

James chuckled nervously. “Hey, Hermione, are you obligated to tell my parents everything regarding to me? Like, real-aunt stuff?”

I guess that’s the problem when you have parents. You love them. They love you. But somehow you just cannot be the people who know each other the most.

I’m a little surprised that Hermione actually thought about it for a bit. I can tell James is surprised too. People all give quick answers when they’re asked about this. Angelina will say “you bet your ass I will tell Ginny everything kids”. George will say “nah dude this is between you and me, pranksters’ honour”. But Hermione, she’s thinking about it like she’s not sure.

After a moment, she said, “I guess it depends.”

James is a little miffed. “Depends on what?”

She shrugged. “On whether or not it’s necessary to tell them?”

“How do you decide that?” I asked. I didn’t realise that I was already leaning forward and ready to participate.

She turned around and looked at me. “Well, I guess if James’s secret might put him in grave danger, then I should tell Harry about it. Otherwise I’m a pretty good secret keeper.” She paused for a moment, added, “What about you, Teddy? Do you tell Harry everything about James?”

I don’t know why, but her words warmed me in an unexpected way, like in her way of asking, she put me in the same level as her - adult, independent, guardian of that big child sitting in the driver’s seat. It means that she doesn’t see me as a child; instead, she sees me as a partner in crime in this car if James spills one of his secrets, and that pleases me enormously.

I looked into her eyes and said, “I’m the best secret keeper in the world.”

She shivered. Maybe. Maybe it’s just a trick of light and shadows and the speeding scenery outside the window. She didn’t look away though. I didn’t look away either. One moment passed and then we missed our opportunity to look away without being awkward or weird, so we have to keep looking at each other. I can’t control myself that well. I looked down to her lips for a split second, but she caught me. I can tell.

Damn it.

She silently turned around completely. James glared at me for a bit. Merlin, give me a break.

“So,” James said, “if I tell you something about my love life you wouldn’t tell my parents?”

Her voice is steady. “No. Unless your girlfriend plans to kill you.”

“That’s not as far-fetched as you would imagine,” James laughed a bit.

She’s totally relaxed now. “So you have one? Girlfriend?”

James hummed.

“And Harry doesn’t know?”

James hummed again.

She laughed a bit. “Okay. I won’t tell him, but I want a full report.”

James laughed along. “You need to win my trust first.”

She might murmured something like “Harry Potter’s fucking son”. I’m sure I heard wrong.

It’s pretty uneventful after that. We flooed to the Ministry, sat outside Harry’s office, and waited for him to end whatever’s going on in there. An assistant Auror, Kris, said that Auror Potter knew we’d arrived and he’d meet us as soon as possible. It’s interesting, the Auror Office. Everyone’s constantly on the move. Only one or two are sitting at their desks and chewing their quills. I’m guessing case closing report.

Hermione sits between me and James. James is on his phone again. He’s been on his phone ever since Malfoy Industries invented a method to make Muggle devices work normally in magical environments, which means five years ago. I think. Harry threatened to reducto that thing once, but he never did. I guess for a man like Harry, the more ways to find his family at any given time, the better.

She wasn’t doing anything, just watching the office and taking it all in. She’s been away for quite some time, after all. I can feel her beside me even when I’m not looking at her. I don’t feel warmth or smell her scent or something like that. No. I just feel her presence.

And then someone said, in a weak voice, “Merlin’s balls. Hermione.”

I looked up, and there’s Ron. He’s pale as a corpse.

Hermione stood up and said calmly, “Hi, Ron.”

And then he’s kissing her. And my blood turned to ice in my veins.

#Teddy Lupin #Hermione Granger #hprarepairnet #this is seriously fluff #no one's dead #yet #fairestoftherare

23 notes · View notes