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rrickgrrimes8 · 2 years ago

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Your Bear Part II

summary: you are found (part I)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x niece!reader

warnings: angst, reunion, violence, infected, happy ending :))

not sure if i like this as much as the first part but i hope yall do. i just want to thank you all for the response to my past few fics (especially your bear). its been unreal. i stopped writing for a while and these were my first ones back so this was an insane response to it! thank you so much for your love and appreciation it really does mean a lot!

also! i tagged basically everybody who left a comment asking for part 2 - sorry if thats annoying idk ive never done a taglist before. thanks for the comments tho :)

masterlist

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requests are open

word count: 2.3k

22 Years Ago...

The world around you screamed for help. People ran around, skin on fire, missing massive chunks.

You wailed as they passed, hands tightened around your ears. You just wanted to find help. You wanted to save Sarah. This wasn’t what you expected.

“D-ad,” You cried, hiccupping, “D-addy!” You missed his touch. You missed his voice and his face. His laugh. You just wanted your daddy.

But which way had you come from?

You stood, idle, in an alley way you didn’t recognize, a man lay a few feet beside you. Blood seeped from his neck, running to kiss the tips of your shoes.

He twitched.

Your breath caught in your throat, the hair on your neck stood high. “D-daddy,” You whimpered, quieter than before, “Please.”

He looked at you now. His face grotesque, the shape of jagged teeth marked his greyish skin. White, stringy tendrils extended out of his mouth as he crawled to you – his legs being left behind as he did.

You screamed when his nails scratched against your shoe. In the panic, your bear fell from your grasp, landing in the bloodbath.

You tried backing up from the monster, but his hand stopped you. His claws captured your ankle.

You didn’t realise you were falling until your back hit the wet ground. You let out a shriek as he trailed up your body. “P-please,” You sobbed, “D-ad! D-addy!”

The creature didn’t even flinch. He opened his jaws further, searching for your small neck, ready to mark you just as he had been.

But a shot sounded off and his weight settled on your petite body.

A strong force tugged him off you, the same force pulling you into their arms. You wailed, fighting against the stranger’s grip.

“It’s okay, sweetgirl, you’re okay,” She told you, rushing you away from the scene, “You’re going to be okay; I promise.”

You didn’t know what to make of Jackson. It was nice, you supposed. Weird though. It felt like what you imagined before felt like. Not that you remembered much. You remembered how loud cars were, how the TV remote worked, how to strum a guitar.

You remembered your sisters voice, her hair, how smart she sounded even if you didn’t understand a word.

You wished you remembered your dad. He was a blur to you. Like you had missed a chapter of a book and now a new character had no face. You remembered his laugh though. It was sweet, slow. Like a lullaby. You recalled being held to his chest and feeling the vibrations.

You wished you remembered your dad.

Sarah had settled in quickly, at least that’s what you thought. She was happy to be around people other than her mom (you tried not to internalise it all that much).

In the week since you arrived Sarah had grown attached to the strangers that took you under their wing. You still weren’t so sure. But when Sarah made grabby hands to the older man and all she got was a dejected smile in response a part of you hurt. You didn’t understand why.

They’d kept their distance or rather he had. Ellie came round every day. She loved Sarah. She loved you, even if, like Joel, you were a little rough around the edges.

But for a reason unbeknownst to you Joel couldn’t be in a room with you for longer than five minutes. You didn’t let it bother you too much. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to make trouble and get the pair of you kicked out or worse separated.

Ellie had come to you earlier that day, smile wide, cheeks rosy. She had a glint in her eyes, a plan. One you really didn’t want to know about nor be a part of.

Excitedly, she told you about the couple who lived across from her and Joel - his brother. Tommy and Maria and the somewhat new addition of Lily, their little girl. Ellie had told them about you - although missing out some of the major minor details. They agreed to have you over she had said. And despite the age difference between Lily and Sarah the older girl was excited to meet her.

So, there you stood, Sarah shielded from the cold into your chest. You raised your hand awkwardly, knocking a little harder than you expected.

A woman opened the door. She was beautiful, smiley, friendly. You couldn’t tell if that was a façade or not. That made the nerves in your stomach stiffen. “C’mon in, sweetheart,” Maria ushered you inside after she confirmed it was you.

You forced a smile for her, “Nice place.”

Maria nodded, looking around the room proudly, “Thank you.” She urged you to take a seat, letting you know her husband, Tommy, was just dressing Lily.

“So, you’re younger than I thought you would be,” She confessed, “Not to be rude or anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, sitting opposite her, Sarah making a home on your lap, “I’m 27.”

“Wow,” She smiled, “And what about her?”

You stroked the top of Sarah’s head, where her hair had slightly begun to grow, “Couple weeks now.”

Maria shifted ever so slightly in her seat, unspoken sympathy in her eyes, “And the father?” You stilled, escaping her gaze you looked towards the coffee table, taking inventory of the odd books they had. “I’m sorry,” She spoke quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” You cleared your throat sheepishly, “There isn’t... her dad did what he had to.” You still remembered his screams.

“I’m sorry,” Maria frowned, hands soothing over her jeans, wishing Tommy would appear to aid the situation.

“Don’t be,” You said earnestly, “He got us here, right? One way or another...” Maria wasn’t sure you really meant that. The lost look in your eyes told her what she needed to know. As did your shaking knee. You’d give anything to have him back. She bit her lip, somewhat guessing the rest.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” A males voice cut through the tension, “Wouldn’t stop squirming for the life of me.”

Maria chuckled opening her arms to grab Lily, introducing you as she did. He blanched hearing that name. He near screamed seeing that face - your face but so much different, so much more mature.

Tommy blinked a few times, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. He whispered your name carefully, as if you were a wild animal, prone for violence.

Maria gave him an odd look, moving Lily over to you and Sarah. “And this is our sweetheart, Lily,” She told you as Lily began fussing relentlessly in her arms, desperate to touch the baby.

“Baby,” She cooed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” You mused, croakily, inching closer to the pair, “This is Sarah, Lily.”

Tommy wanted to throw up. He felt it dancing up his throat, teasing his uncertainty. He felt stuck. He truthfully didn’t know what to do or what to say. Should he straight out ask you? You didn’t seem to recognise him though. Maybe it was a clone? A doppelgänger? Should he run over to Joel’s for safety away from this confusion?

Joel.

Did Joel know? He had to know. He needed to know.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” Maria called to him. He choked a little, eyes trailing over to the plaque that watched over their new life. The plaque he knew had no place for your name. He knew it. You were here.

Maria followed his gaze, a weird feeling in her chest as she saw her husband so unlike himself. She read Joel’s daughter’s name. Sarah. Was he freaked out because they shared the same name?

She gulped - it wasn’t just the baby whose name was shared but yours too it seemed. You couldn’t be, right? No- You died. Joel was so sure you died and despite all Tommy had told her, all the hope he had for you, she always found herself on Joel’s side. Funny that. Any other situation she would’ve made a point to oppose the eldest Miller.

But now... You were just five. You couldn’t have survived on your own. You wouldn’t have had a life in this world.

But again, hadn’t you said you were 27?

“Go,” She told him, firmly, “Make sure.” Tommy nodded, failing to hide his tears as you watched in confusion and darted out of the room with a sense of urgency that unsettled your stomach.

“Is everything okay?”

Maria’s attention snapped back to you, “Fine... everything’s fine.”

A disconcerting feeling swam under your skin and a sudden resolve to flee hit you. “I- We should probably go,” You mumbled, bringing Sarah to your chest once more.

“Wait, please,” She attempted, “Just wait.”

You shook your head, apologising softly before rushing out of the house. You caught eyes with two men across the road - Joel and Tommy. They stood on his porch, seemingly arguing with each other.

You spotted Ellie watching through the window, a guilty look on her face - what had she done?

The brothers stared at you as you left the home. Their eyes didn’t leave you for a second. Tommy called your name, desperately but when he moved to catch up with you, Joel pulled him back.

He clenched his jaw as you rushed back to your home, out of sight. “She was my niece, Joel,” He scowled, “My fuckin’ family too.”

Joel shook his head, shaking off the shame Tommy was trying to force on him.

“You don’t get to keep this kind of thing from me,” He yelled, “You- You are unbelievable, Joel.”

“Unbelievable?” He mocked, “Is it so unbelievable that I didn’t want to advertise to the whole goddamn town that she was my daughter when, hell, I don’t even know if she really is!”

“Bullshit,” Tommy spat, “You’re not stupid. You knew. Of course, you fucking knew. You knew like how I knew. One look. That’s all it woulda took you. No… you knew. You were just too scared - like always. And that, your selfishness, takes us all down with you.”

“Fuck you,” He grunted, storming back inside.

“Christ,” Tommy mumbled, turning back to his own home.

You had a baby.

You were here, alive.

You steered clear from the group for a little while afterwards. The whole situation made you heart clench. It felt like a game that you didn’t know the rules of, but they did. All of them did and they were careful not to reveal anything. But you wanted to know - you needed to.

You knew it involved Joel or at least you felt like it had to. The way he looked at you when you first met. The way he spoke. The way he shook. It had to be him. He had to be the answer.

You gave up on your attempts to avoid them when you came to that realisation.

The same realisation that brought you here, at his front door in the middle of the night. You shyly knocked a few times - no response. You repeated the action with a little more force, a little too much. The door creaked open on the contact, but no one came to greet you.

You sucked in a harsh breath as you debated entering. The door was open right? Fair game? Silently you forced yourself to step inside.

Their home was dark - one lamp lighting a whole room. You frowned looking over to it. Someone had to be here, right? Where else would they be so late?

And then you saw him. Joel. The contradictory man. He was asleep. His body was sprawled all over the couch, an empty bottle of God knows what lay beside him as did what looked like... a bear?

Shakily, you took a step forward, his name dying in your throat as you saw the bear in a better light.

It was... yours.

Why would Joel have your bear? The bear that when you were a child was essentially an extension of you. The bear that chased away all the bad dreams. The bear that your dad had gotten you - your dad.

You gulped - the bear you hadn’t seen since the night you lost everything. Since the night you almost lost your life.

Joel shifted in his sleep, pulling the bear close to his chest, careful of its head as if it was a baby. Your eyes burned. A gasp escaped your lips. You could read the chapter now. You can see that character’s face - your fathers face.

Different but the same.

“D-dad,” You whispered before you could stop yourself and backed away.

Your back met the door, slamming it shut. The man jolted awake, alarmed eyes frantically searching the room before landing on you. They grew small, weaker, like he wasn’t all the way there.

Joel watched you closely, taking note of your falling tears, he spoke your name. You choked on a sob, hand clasping over your mouth. “Baby,” He shot up before he had a moment to think and approached you.

You didn’t flinch away, like he expected. You didn’t stop crying either. You studied him now. The wrinkles. The scars. The grey hairs. The same look in his eyes.

“How long have you known?”

He flinched at that. Your voice so familiar, so broken. “Since we met,” He didn’t have to try too hard to understand what you were getting at. He felt shameful, though. This shouldn’t have been the way, right? This felt too casual, too unknown.

You wanted to ask more, yell at him. Beg him to tell you why it wasn’t the first thing that he told you. But you didn’t. Instead you put one foot in front of the other, until you were mere inches from him. “Dad,” You shuddered.

He hadn’t realised how much he missed being called that, how much he missed being your dad.

“Babygirl,” He took your face in his hands, “My baby grown up.” He watched you closely, tears welling up, “I’m so sorry, babygirl. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, slamming yourself into his chest, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Oh, baby,” Joel wrapped his arms around you, hand cradling the back of your head.

“With me, babygirl,” He smiled for moment before letting it fall, “Don’t go away again, babygirl, never go away again.”

You smiled into his chest, whimpering softly, “I won’t, dad, I promise.”

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#joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller x daughter!reader #tommy miller x platonic!reader #tommy miller x niece!reader #ellie williams x platonic!reader #the last of us imagine #joel miller x platonic!reader

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youremyheaven · 10 months ago

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Random Astrology Observations:

I've noticed that Moon-dominant people tend to be extremely attached to their families even when their families are kind of toxic, holding them back or messy, they overlook all flaws to project this image of coming from/belonging to a very happy well adjusted home.

Moon dominant people are often born to mothers who did not want them or felt trapped into having a baby/were forced to stay in partnerships/marriages because of the baby (obviously not every Moon dominant person will relate to this but yeah)

I've always thought that Zendaya and Jennifer Lopez sounded alike and turns out Zendaya is Purvaphalguni Sun and JLo has Venus atmakaraka

The people whose art/work really resonate with yours either have your Venus or Ketu placement in their big 3 or Mercury/Venus (since both these planets affect creativity and communication)

Rat yoni people are the most sexually perverse. I said what I said.

Dog yoni people tend to be very androgynous

I feel like Ketuvians struggle with their gender identity more than any other planetary dominance

Ashlesha placement works better for men than women because women really internalise that poisonous nature and it corrodes them from within (if imbalanced)

Here are some memes for diff placements just because:

Mercurials when people around them start switching up:

Venusians if every self destructive thought they had turned to diamonds:

Revatis when someone tells them they have to meet a deadline:

Jupiter gals be like:

Ashlesha womencore:

Moon dominants when someone bruises their ego:

Rahuvian core:

Nodalcore af <3

just wanted to post something goofy hehe lol

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southeastasianists · 2 months ago

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It was the mid-1980s when Paul Toh came of age as a gay man, decades before smartphones and dating apps made sex a lot more accessible right at your fingertips. Toh has been diagnosed with HIV since 1989.

Now semi-retired with his own business distributing antiretroviral therapy medication and HIV pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP), the 59-year-old said that in those days, cruising in public parks, toilets, and back alleys of dirty shophouses along pre-cleanup Singapore River for sex was par for the course.

Unsurprisingly, cruising in public made gay men easy targets for police officers. “They started going to these cruising grounds undercover, with the explicit intention of entrapping and arresting gay men,” Toh added.

Police raids in nightlife establishments with gay clientele also became common, with prominent gay discotheque Niche having its liquor license withdrawn by the police in 1989 and the Rascals incident of 30 May 1993, in which multiple patrons were arrested for not having their NRICs on them. This came to be remembered by veteran activists as Singapore’s Stonewall.

Fear about the spread of AIDS was part of the reason why police intensified their clamp down on queer spaces. In April 1987, Singapore experienced its first AIDS-related death. And one year later, the Director of Public Affairs of the Singapore Police Department said in a Straits Times article that “homosexual activities have been strongly linked to the dreaded AIDS disease,” making it an “added reason in the public interest for police to disallow homosexuals to convert places licensed for entertainment into places where they can congregate.”

Iris’ Work of Fighting Stigma

76-year-old health advisor Iris Verghese was among the first health workers to rise to the occasion when Singapore reported its first HIV/AIDS cases.

“I knew just as little about HIV/AIDS as everyone else,” said the retired nurse, who first joined Middle Road Hospital, a now-defunct treatment centre for sexually transmitted diseases, in 1974. As part of her job, Verghese was tasked with contact tracing people who had sexually transmitted infections.

The job brought Verghese to brothels and nightclubs in Geylang’s red-light district, which meant she was no stranger to serving society’s Others with kindness.

“A lot of it has to do with my faith.”

“I thought about my role models like Jesus and Mother Teresa—they didn’t care what illness you had. If they could hang out with people with leprosy, then who am I to refuse to care for those with HIV/AIDS?”

Verghese’s work is well-documented, and everyone has given her the accolades she deserves—from President Halimah Yacob to the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Singapore to the Straits Times, which named her an everyday hero in 2019.

Plague, a 15-minute short film by Singaporean filmmaker Boo Junfeng, captures the emotional gravity of the care work performed by Verghese and health workers like herself.

The emotionally-stirring film is inspired by Verghese’s work with HIV/AIDS patients in the ’80s and offers a look into the life of Jamie, a patient who stopped coming to the clinic for treatment and counselling.

In the film’s climax, set in the patient’s HDB flat, Verghese tries to dissuade Jamie from inflicting internalised stigma. Jamie insists on using disposable plastic cups and utensils and cleaning every surface he touches for fear of passing the virus to his loved ones.

Wanting to prove that HIV/AIDS is not transmissible through saliva, Verghese takes Jamie’s plastic cup and drinks from it. She then hands him a regular glass, beckoning for him to drink from it, only for him to swipe it away, breaking the glass and cutting himself in the process.

Thus comes the true test of Verghese’s dedication to her profession as she steels herself to the drastically heightened risk. Now that her patient is bleeding, she is dealing no longer just with saliva, but with blood carrying the virus.

In our interview, Verghese recalled many incidents like these. One that stuck with me was her counselling session with Singapore’s first HIV patient, a young gay professional, in 1985. “As I listened to him and gave him a hug, he broke down and cried,” she said. “He said he felt so good afterwards.”

Safe Sex Outreach in the 80s

“Things were very different in the ’80s and ’90s,” said Professor Roy Chan, Founding President of Action for AIDS Singapore (AfA). AfA is a non-government organisation founded in 1988 to fight HIV/AIDS infection in Singapore.

“There was no internet then. When we set up AfA, we had to rely on word of mouth, phone calls, faxes, pagers, and so on. Mobilisation was not as easy then, but we overcame the obstacles we faced. It was very much more hands-on in those days,” Chan recalled.

Chan set up AfA as a non-governmental organisation in 1988 to respond to the needs of people living with HIV/AIDS, regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity, as well as to advocate for greater action and awareness around HIV/AIDS.

AfA was also one of the first community groups in Singapore that served the needs of LGBTQ+ individuals—namely men who have sex with men—disproportionately affected by HIV/AIDS.

“Back then, people didn’t have as much access to the internet as we do today, meaning that accurate information on HIV/AIDS was much harder to come by, making education efforts vital,” Chan recalled. “On the flip side, no internet meant the gay nightlife scene was more vibrant than what it is today.”

Since the gay community in the 1980s and 1990s did not have the internet and mobile phone apps to meet other people online, they had to go to physical spaces to fulfil their need for connection, whether it was nightlife establishments or cruising grounds.

Gay clubs were hence crucial in AfA’s outreach programs on safe sex practices back in the ’80s—even if it meant risking the possibility of police raids.

Back then, there were very few places in Singapore where gay men felt safe enough to gather in abundance, making gay clubs a viable hub for outreach and education.

AfA’s outreach efforts endure today in the form of the Mobile Testing Van initiative on weekends. The van, parked outside popular gay nightlife spots in Singapore, aims to bring HIV testing closer to the public, bridging the fear and stigma of walking into a stand-alone clinic to get tested.

The Consequence of Outreach

The people brave enough to put themselves out there to serve a larger cause were but a small minority, especially given the cultural milieu of the time.

“There was so much that was unknown about HIV/AIDS even among the medical community, much less the general public,” said Verghese.

“Even at Middle Road Hospital, two doctors resigned, and twenty-five nurses asked to be transferred out.”

AfA’s awareness campaigns and fundraiser drives drew a lot of publicity—and no doubt some backlash.

Still, beneath all the headlines and the star power lent by high-profile celebrity allies was the silence surrounding individual HIV/AIDS cases.

“It was all very hush-hush. People didn’t want to talk about it. No one wanted to know who died of AIDS,” Verghese shared when I asked if the atmosphere in the 90s was similar to that depicted in films and drama series such as The Normal Heart and Pose.

The shows portrayed the HIV/AIDS crisis in the disease’s epicentre in New York as being a time of deaths and countless funerals attended by surviving gay men.

One exception to this veil of silence was Paddy Chew, the first Singaporean person to come out publicly as being a person living with HIV/AIDS.

Chew—well-known for his one-man autobiographical play Completely With/Out Character—told Verghese and her husband that he wanted no crying at his funeral.

“He asked me to arrange his funeral such that his ashes will be thrown into the sea from a Singapore Armed Forces boat,” said Verghese. She and Chew’s close friends were instructed to be dressed in their party best, with helium balloons that were to be released out at sea.

“There was one helium balloon that drifted away from the other balloons. To me, that felt like it was Paddy’s soul saying goodbye to us one last time.”

A Tale of Two HIV Diagnoses

Perhaps by coincidence—or not, since Verghese was one of the very few nurses dedicated to caring for HIV/AIDS patients at the time—Toh’s then-partner was also one of Verghese’s patients.

“My then-partner Freddie and I handled our HIV diagnoses very differently, but of course, we also came from very different backgrounds and life experiences,” said Toh.

“I found out about my status because an ex-lover of mine had come down with pneumocystis pneumonia (PCP). I flew to Sydney for a diagnosis so that I wouldn’t be registered in the local system here if I was found to be positive.”

On the other hand, Freddie found out about his HIV-positive status because he was a regular blood donor. Not only was his diagnosis inevitably recorded in the national registry, but Freddie also ran into legal trouble. He was charged in court for false disclosure of his sexual activity.

“Because of how the entire trial turned out, Freddie was sentenced to imprisonment for twice the expected duration. It affected his entire outlook in life, feeling like he was being framed by a bigger power with an agenda, with the whole world against him,” said Toh, who cared for Freddie until he passed in 2008.

Toh, on the other hand, took his diagnosis as an opportunity to re-evaluate his life and make the most of the eight years that the doctor told him back in 1989 he had left to live.

“When I received my diagnosis, the only thing in my mind was this: it is the quality of life that matters, not the quantity.” And so, the two spent the next few years of their lives travelling the world, making their remaining years as meaningful as they could be.

Anything for a Chance at Life

Maximising his remaining years did not stop at travel for Toh. Having managed to get his hands on antiretroviral therapy in Sydney in the form of azidothymidine (AZT), he went on to look for more effective forms of medication while the technology was being developed in real-time. Toh wanted to help other HIV patients like himself.

In 1994, Toh joined the Asia Pacific Network of People with HIV/AIDS (APN+), a regional network advocating for the improvement of the lives of people with HIV/AIDS in the Asia-Pacific region, later becoming a Board member and secretariat.

“North America and Europe were progressing swiftly in their battle against HIV/AIDS thanks to the work of activists there putting pressure on their governments and the medical community to channel funding towards the research and development of suitable treatment for HIV/AIDS,” said Toh.

“In Asia, however, it’s a different story. We had to be street smart in our advocacy while also looking elsewhere for allies.”

This meant looking to donors in the West who could be persuaded to recognise the importance of HIV/AIDS advocacy in Asia.

“I was very lucky to have the opportunity to be one of the first few Asians who had access to HAART, said Toh.

HAART (Highly active antiretroviral therapy) is a triple-combination of antiretroviral drugs discovered in 1996 by Professor David Ho. Toh had been invited to attend the 11th International Conference on AIDS in Vancouver, Canada, where the discovery of this triple cocktail was announced.

Within three months of beginning HAART treatment in 1996, Toh saw his health improving tremendously, with his CD4 count—a measure for the immune system of PLHIV—increasing exponentially and his viral load becoming undetectable within the fourth month.

Although Toh already had a supply of free antiretroviral medication from his healthcare provider in Sydney, he continued to look elsewhere for alternative sources for patients who were unable to afford the patented medication.

“Unlike Taiwan, Hong Kong, and South Korea, where medication for HIV/AIDS was provided to patients for free, Singapore was the only Asian Tiger which did not do so,” said Toh.

“Meanwhile, pharmaceutical companies in developing countries like Brazil, India, and Thailand were manufacturing their own generic antiretroviral medication in spite of patent laws, making it more affordable.”

While still not free, MOH announced in 2020 that HIV medication would become subsidised.

Singapore’s Very Own ‘Buyers Club’

With patented HIV/AIDS medication in the ’80s continuing to be inaccessible to many who needed it, buyers clubs—similar to the one featured in the 2013 film Dallas Buyers Club—would soon emerge worldwide, including Singapore.

“The funny thing was that Australia had easy access to HIV/AIDS medication, so there was a lot of stock available in Sydney,” said Verghese. A family vacation down under in 1987 turned into an informal research trip for her to network and gather the information that she needed to perform her job optimally.

During her trip, she met HIV researcher Dr David Cooper, who brought her to Albion Street Centre (now known as The Albion Centre), which specialises in HIV/AIDS management.

Through her newfound contacts, Verghese managed to get her hands on some of the unused stocks of medication in Sydney back to Singapore for her support group.

“We even got the help of the Singapore Airlines flight attendants to pool together their unused baggage allowance to bring this medication back,” she recounted with a laugh.

Antiretroviral medication was not the only asset that Verghese brought back. She learned a lot about the virus from the professionals she met in Sydney, allowing her to move faster than the national response and gather the information needed to tend to her patients.

A Ground Up Initiative

“George Yeo was actually very impressed with what we were doing,” recounted Verghese. “He wanted to meet with the community to learn more about our efforts and arranged a closed-door meeting with us.”

The meeting was the culmination of months of sending letters to Yeo, the Minister of Health at the time. The dialogue session was held to discuss the government’s rule that mandated the bodies of AIDS sufferers to be buried or cremated within twenty-four hours of dying.

This rule was finally lifted in December 2000, after four years of advocacy by AfA.

They argued that the policy was outdated, having been implemented in the mid-1980s when hardly anything was known about HIV/AIDS.

“I think we’ve certainly had to prove ourselves as an organisation over the years,” Chan said. “There might have been concerns among some who thought of us as a gay rights organisation, or misconceptions that AfA worked solely on issues that concern gay people.��

“But we’ve proven ourselves over the years to be a serious and effective organisation tackling HIV/AIDS and sexual health with clear metrics of success, and the results and continued support from the government speak for themselves,” added Prof Chan.

Toh, who served as AfA’s Executive Director from 2007-2009, concurs.

“Actually, not many people know this, but MOH has been quite supportive of AfA over the years. Even during my term, they would hold closed-door discussions with us, intently wanting to work with us on eliminating HIV/AIDS,” said Toh. He reckoned that MOH did not want to be publicly seen as supporting something considered by society as ‘morally corrupt’ no matter how beneficial it is to wider society.

The Fruits of Our Predecessors’ Labour Are Not Handed on a Silver Plate

The history of HIV/AIDS and its role in fomenting community-building among the LGBTQ+ community has always been a topic of fascination for me.

I can only imagine what it must have been like to see everyone in your social circles and communities succumbing, one by one, to an unknown disease.

Covid-19 provided the closest representation of the tumultuous and uncertain time in the ’80s.

In the midst of writing this, however, the comparison became a much closer one. Monkeypox is now affecting men who have sex with men more than the rest of the general population.

“It’s not the same thing,” Chan said, cautioning against making blanket comparisons between monkeypox and HIV/AIDS.

“For starters,” he intoned, “monkeypox is not an unknown disease. We’ve known about monkeypox for decades, so it is nothing close to HIV back in the ’80s.”

Admittedly, life is easier for a gay man like me, who came of age at a time when HIV/AIDS is no longer considered a significant threat.

With common knowledge of medication as well as preventative measures like safer sex and pre and post-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP and PEP), it is easy for me and my peers to take for granted the freedoms that we now enjoy, thanks to decades of advocacy and destigmatisation.

But as Prof Chan said, “It is important not to be complacent. The freedoms and advancements we have today were not handed on a silver platter. Earlier generations had to fight very hard for all of these things.”

#Southeast Asia #Singapore #History #LGBTQIA Issues #Health #HIV/AIDS

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menlove · 7 months ago

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one thing that adds to credibility of Paul being closeted imo, is that often he is thought of as having this internalised homophobia, if not homophobia itself, because he always mentions how un-gay he is whenever some gay subject comes up in interviews

but like, there are so many things that disprove him being homophobic, it's not even funny. going to Paris alone with gay men? Paul did that two times (three if we count John lol) and that Peter Brown story is incrediblyy suspect. what homophobic man, scared of gay, sits on the bed of his male employee and his male fling that casually late at night in his hotel room and chats them up?

most likely reason, combined with his incredibly suspect lyrics, is that he is so defensive about his sexuality because he has something to hide

THATS WHAT IIIIIM SAYING!!!! like he is so comfortable w gay people and gay culture which on its own isn't suspect but it Is when people insist he's homophobic as a Reason He's Repressed Not Closeted. and once again I must remind everyone that john nearly beat a man to death for calling him gay and was still undeniably queer.

it's just like. imagine for a moment. with me. everyone hold my hand. not claiming this is true but walk w me along this path to get to current paul that isn't "he's just repressed and stupid and doesn't even know he's bi" but is instead MY speculative timeline (somehow this turned into a mini fic or something god help me but I'M SO SERIOUS IM SO SERIOUS THIS WOULD MAKE THE MOST SENSE TO ME WALK WITH ME HOLD MY HAND)

you are born in the 1940s. you are raised by a strict man who was physically abusive & in a culture that hates gay people. you grow up watching people get killed for being queer and being bullied over your feminine features that people think make you queer. you hit puberty and Shit Gets Harder because you start finding other men hot. elvis, for one! when you're 15 you start seeing a boy around that you think is hot and it turns out he's in a band and you fall in love with his looks and his voice and then him. and he's just as insane about you. you start doing increasingly sexual things together. eventually, you're having a full blown sexual affair. while writing love songs together and growing up together. and then he gets his girlfriend pregnant. and marries her. and you lose him, a little bit. he goes off and has an affair with your gay manager & when he gets home he ruins your birthday party by nearly beating a man to death for bringing it up. you wonder what he'd do if anyone found out about the two of you too.

and then the insane happens and you end up The Most Famous Band In The World. the ENTIRE world is watching your every move. the entire world loves you. they wouldn't love you if they knew. you get a girlfriend and it's convenient because she's always gone and you're always alone. but you still have him. and other girls. through everything, you have each other. even when he says something stupid and the world wants all of your heads on a platter and he starts to fall into a depression, you still have each other. even if now you Know how bad it could be if they ever found out. and then your manager, your father figure, an openly gay man, dies. and it's not a suicide, but a lot of people think it is, and sometimes you wonder, and fuck it's terrifying, isn't it? the reality of your life, the reality of loving Him, the reality of being queer. what if that winds up being You? you start to lose Him a little bit more as you throw yourself into your work and push everyone way too hard. you propose to your girlfriend. and then you do lose Him. to a woman. which was sort of unthinkable because he was already married and never cared about her, just you. never cared about any women, just you. but he cares about Her. and you fucking lose your mind. lose yourself in drugs. blow up your engagement. propose to another girl and many more "jokingly". your one girlfriend says you had to try again or you would have gone "raving queer" and killed yourself. the whole time you're losing Him more and more. suddenly he's looking at Her like he used to look at you. you're no longer his world and what the fuck do you have? a bunch of girls you don't care about and a drug problem? and then you meet a woman who, according to you, is more woman than anyone else. she's a mother already, a family ready made when you've always wanted one. she's smart and she's funny and she's quick and you let yourself cling to her because you don't have Him and he has Her so you've got to have someone, don't you? and she winds up pregnant and that's great, that's wonderful, you're no longer in danger of dying alone and queer and sad. you've lost Him by now completely, even though you have about a month where things feel a little less awful again and you perform together one last time. you marry her and you ASK people, flat out, if they expected you to be a 26 year old unmarried queer. you fight the night before you're married for some unknown reason, so badly she almost leaves you. and then He marries Her, and everything is fine. and then it all falls apart completely. you at least had Him as your friend, your writing partner, the other half of you legally. and then he asks for a divorce. and the world ends. you don't have the band, you don't have Him, you don't have anything. you stay in bed all day, drinking, miserable. like a breakup, not just of the band.

eventually, your wife pulls you out of it. you survive. you start writing again. you write to him. you put two beetles fucking on the cover of your second album and he thinks a song you wrote about your wife's ex is about him (and maybe it is, a little) and he shoots right back. and you keep that up for a decade. writing to each other. seeing each other only in the news and in snatched moments together where nothing is the same as it was. you plead with him through your music: why do you hurt me so bad? call me, pretty baby. I'm waking up screaming over you. I can't tell you how I feel. you try and make things like they were, even a little, showing up to his house with your guitar like you're 15 again, but he sends you away. in all that time, he's basically gone to conversion therapy. he's with someone who makes disparaging remarks about his sexuality. for you, you've let yourself embrace being a bit campy, but you still can't bring yourself to be open about any of it. not with anyone but your wife.

and then you start talking again. you make up. things seem hopeful. it seems like he might still love you and he writes you a song about starting over with you. and then he's murdered. and it's senseless. it's so so senseless. and it's unfair. you lock yourself away for days listening to that song he wrote you. the media tears you apart for grieving wrong. they wish you died instead. they think you're cold. you never loved him, not like he loved you. you write a song, with tear marks on the page, telling him how much you DID love him. all the things you'd say to him if he were there with you. you write more songs about that, all centered around that theme. some of them you say are about him. others you don't. once, you say if anyone catches on you can just deny it. but he wrote you love songs too, apparently, for you, and you eventually record them with your old band

and the thing is, You are one of his widows. his name follows yours every time it leaves someone's mouth. he's all anyone ever talks about with you. he's all you want to talk about too. his legacy is your legacy. he's no longer here to tell people about his sexuality, he's no longer here to consent to everything that you were being told. he's not here. and how can you even begin to mention Your Own sexuality without bringing him up? you owe him more than outing him in death. you owe Her more than that too, because you were already cruel to her and so was the world. she's grieving just like you, you can't do that. your wife dies, and now you're her legacy too and you being queer would seem like a betrayal to her. your best friend dies, and now he's your legacy too. you aren't just you- you're Him, you're 1/2 of the living members of the most famous band to ever exist, you're Her, you're your dead wife

so when someone asks you about him. when someone asks you about being gay or calls him the love of your life. What Exactly Are You Supposed To Say?

I wouldn't say shit either

#this got so long I just have a lot of feelings about paul if. you couldn't tell.#this is all PURE speculation btw. it's just the way I feel it would go if. he were closeted and they were fucking #a if you give a mouse a cookie type ramble #mclennon

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torchwood-99 · 1 year ago

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There's a lot of discussion about Tolkien's work and feminism, is it sexist, is it feminist, how does the fact that Tolkien's work held feminist themes make sense with the sexist views he expressed in real life, is this plot point regarding a woman sexist or feminist?

And I think the key thing here is remembering that feminism isn't a state of being or a personality trait, it's an action and a thought. A person can both be feminist and sexist. They can hold sexist attitudes and do sexist things and they can also hold feminist attitudes and do feminist things. After all, feminism is complex and the rights of women is a fight on multiple fronts, a war made up of multiple battles.

Tolkien was an upper class white man raised in a time of great sexism, and lived and worked in a sexist environment. He also had a very strong bond with his wife and lived in a time when women's rights and the role of women were undergoing massive changes. His works have far less women in them, and his women often get side-lined and their characterisation/plot relevance are often influenced by sexist tropes (passivity, existing to be a trophy, role defined by make relationships).

At the same time, his female characters can show great heroism, competency and power, and perform feats of heroism in ways that have traditionally been seen as "masculine", showing that a woman being a woman doesn't inherently make her incapable or suited only for certain jobs. And not only that, his characters, like Eowyn, outright call out sexism (all you words say, you are but a woman....you have leave to be burned in the house because the men will need it no more). He also has an in-universe female character speculate on how history has overlooked women, the history he wrote.

Tolkien's attitudes and beliefs would have been influenced by the attitudes and beliefs of his time. He would have grown up in a sexist environment and internalised rigid views about women and femininity and their proper role. He would have also; perhaps subconsciously or despite himself, taken in the feminist arguments women were making at the time, or even noticed himself some of the injustices that women suffered. The man himself didn't need to identify as a feminist to have expressed feminist views. After all, "I'm not a feminist but...." followed by a statement that is definitely feminist, is something we've all seen at some point.

There's also the badass, wonderful Haleth, who was originally conceived as a man, only to be changed into a woman by Tolkien later on. Perhaps he himself noted, as his own characters did, that women had been overlooked in his work. Just as the world around him changed and attitudes towards women adjusted, it is possible that Tolkien's did too. There would have been a difference in what was conservative in the year he was born and what was conservative in the year he died.

So, are Tolkien's work sexist? Yes. Are his works feminist? Yes. Are his female characters sexist? Yes. Are his female characters feminist? Yes.

We can read Tolkien's work and find feminist messages and be uplifted by them. We can also read Tolkien's work and criticise the sexism that is at play.

#Tolkien #Lord of the Rings #Middle Earth #the silmarillion #Haleth #Eowyn

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gingiesworld · 1 year ago

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Obsessions

Wanda Maximoff x Nerdy Rogers Fem Reader

Warnings: Angst. Mean Wanda. Internalised homophobia. Homophopia.

AN: I have decided this is going to have another part during the college years. I hope you guys enjoyed this and please feel free to let me know your thoughts as it is my first proper wanda x fem reader.

Taglist: @sytoran @ginnsbaker @gb12d @lifespectator

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

18+ MINORS DNI

Everyday was the same for Y/N after she was outed after someone had spread around that Y/N was spotted making out with Carol Danvers. Of course it was Wanda who had spotted the two, especially since she had an unhealthy obsession with Y/N.

Wherever Y/N was, Wanda's eyes followed her, watching her every move. Although she had help of the jocks. Jarvis and Tony were always there to push Y/N into her locker, knock her books from her hands, all the while Wanda watched with a smile on her face.

Although, when they had went too far by slashing one of the tires on her car. Y/N had lost it. Heading straight for the two, throwing punches here and there. Although she was scrawny, she had some power behind her that knocked Tony Stark on his ass.

Wanda watched the entire scene with her lip between her teeth, but she could have murdered her brother. Always the hero he was as he helped Y/N replace the wheel.

"Why did you help that freak?" Wanda askes him when he got in the car.

"Because she needed it." He told her sternly. "And tell your boyfriend and his brother to leave her alone." Wanda just scoffed as she shook her head no as he started the journey home.

"We're seniors Wanda." He scolded her. "Don't you think that this is all a little childish. Bullying Y/N just because of her sexuality."

"Just shut up." Wanda told him. "You do what you want in school and I'll do what I want. Just stay out of my way." Once they had returned home, Wanda exited the car and headed straight to her room, closing the door behind her.

As she heard the sound of another car, she instantly looked out of the window and watched as Y/N got out of her 67' Impala. Watching as Y/N headed inside, her bag on her shoulder.

"How was your day sweetie?" Peggy asked as Y/N entered the kitchen to get a bottle of water.

"Ok." She told her as she turned to her mom. "Are you doing Roast Beef?" She questioned as Peggy nodded with a smile.

"I know it's your's and your father's favourite and I just felt like cooking it." Peggy told her with a smile as she put the chopped vegetables in the pan on the stove. "So tell me, what happened today?" She questioned sternly as Y/N sighed.

"The usual and more." Y/N told her. "I have to get a new tire because the Starks decided to slaah my back left."

"Do you want me to talk to Howard or Maria?" She asked as Y/N just shook her head no.

"I." Before she could finish, the phone had started ringing. Peggy gave her an apologetic look before she answered it. Y/N watched as Peggy spoke to whoever it was, and she could see her mom getting worked up.

"You beat them up." She stated as she looked at Y/N with disappointment.

"They deserved it Mom." Y/N defended as Peggy sighed.

"You don't resort to violence!" She scolded as Y/N just scoffed.

"I worked hard on that car. Dad and I worked hard on that car and if he was here he would be on my side." Y/N yelled.

"But he isn't here is he?!" She yelled back. "Because he is dead!!!" She took a deep breath before looking at her with tears in her eyes. "I know you miss him. I do too but he wouldn't want you to resort to violence either."

"I'm going to bed." Y/N told her. "I'm tired."

"What about dinner?" Peggy asked as Y/N just shrugged, heading upstairs to her room. Closing her door as she let the tears fall, sitting on her bed as she covered her face with her hands.

She knew she was hard on her mom, but she hasn't had to deal with everything Y/N has to deal with. The homophobic slurs that get directed at her as she walks through the halls. All of the girls had basically pushed her out of the changing rooms once they had found out, resulting in her opting to change in the nearest bathroom. Just being herself has become a nightmare, especially when everyone frowns upon her sexuality.

Y/N's room was covered in her works, her comic hero designs and other art pieces that she has a lot of pride in. Something she had wanted to do was become an Illustrator, ever since she read her first comic. It was an XMEN comic and she fell in love with it. So she opted to try and make her own, hoping one day she will be as popular as Stan Lee himself.

She also had her favourite records on shelves, the turntable on the chest of drawers as she picked out her Tracy Chapman record. Sighing as she listened to Crossroads, one of her favourite songs as she lay back on her bed.

"What is with you giving Y/N a hard time?" Pietro asked his sister as she entered the kitchen.

"It's fun." She shrugged as she grabbed a can of soda.

"Is it because she is confident enough to be herself and doesn't care what everyone thinks of her." He stated. "Or is it because you're jealous that she has embraced who she is and you're just a scared little girl who hides behind her boyfriend." With that Wanda just scoffed and pushed passed him, although Pietro decided to tell his parents that he was heading over to Y/N's.

"Hi Mrs Rogers, is Y/N here?" He asked her politely as she just nodded to the garage. He thanked her before he headed to the open door. "Y/N, hey." He smiled at her as he approached the car.

"Hi." She spoke quietly as she was concentrating on doing a check up on the engine. "I'm just changing the oil."

"This is a really nice car." Pietro smiled as he admired the body work.

"It is." She smiled at him. "My dad and I rebuilt it a few years ago." She told him as she wiped her hands as she looked over the car. "It was his idea when I was in middle school, he thought it would bea father daughter project."

"I know I am probably late but I'm sorry to hear about him." He told her with a smile.

"Thanks." She smiled at him. "So, why are you here?" She asked him as he smiled.

"I figured we could hang out." He told her as she smiled.

"Sure." She nodded unsurely. "What did you have in mind?" She asked him.

"Well, I figured we could have some food and maybe play a game." He told her. "I've got the new Harry Potter game and I have been dying to play it."

"Just let me get cleaned up." She told him as she disappeared inside. "I'm just going to hang out with Pietro mom." She told Peggy as she disappeared upstairs to get clean.

She was nervous as she followed Pietro into his home, heading straight to his room just as Wanda came out with a teasing grin on her face.

"So you're going to try and turn the dyke straight?" She teased the two as Pietro turned to her, anger evident on his face.

"Shut the fuck up Wanda!" Y/N told her, surprising the two of them. "I am gay and I don't give a fuck what you or anyone thinks." She turned to Pietro who gave her a proud smile. "I have an Xbox at home if you want to play there? I just don't want to be near someone as small minded as your sister."

"Sure, let me grab the game." He told her with a proud smile. Wanda just scoffed as she turned back into her room, slamming the door.

As Y/N and Pietro played the game, he turned to Y/N with a sad smile.

"What happened between you and Wanda?" He questioned as Y/N shrugged. "You used to be best friends when we were kids. Inseparable even."

"I don't know." Y/N told him honestly. "I remember the very first day of high school. We both promised that we would always hang out before school started but she joined the cheerleading squad and well I was me. The nerd with the glasses." She turned to face him. "I guess we drifted apart and well, she hates me now." She turned away, looking back at the screen. "I guess our friendship never meant that much to her as it did to me."

That was the start of a strong friendship between the two, Pietro walked with Y/N to class, always talking about their plans. The Starks had kept their distance from her as Wanda watched the two from afar.

She had been obsessed with Y/N, especially since the two of them had stopped hanging out. She was under pressure from the popular girls so she become just like them, bullying and making fun of anyone she could.

But the moment she saw Y/N kissing Carol behind the school hall, her heart dropped. She knew that she had feelings for her but she was afraid of what others would think about her sexuality so she spread the picture around the school. Because Carol was on the soccer team, everyone turned to bully Y/N who just took everything that was threw her way.

But the jealousy she was feeling as she saw her brother have the friend who she had had for years before.

"So, what are your plans after graduation?" Pietro asked as Y/N helped him with his car.

"I have just got my acceptance letter for NYU." She told him. "I am doing art and english, what about you?"

"I am going to UCLA." He told her. "A full ride for Track."

"That's awesome." Y/N beamed as she wiped her hands. "Turn her over." She told him as he leaned in the car, turning the key in the ignition.

"That sounds so much better." He beamed as she closed the hood.

"You need to lay off the acceleration." She told him. "It can wreak havoc on the pistons and the gasket."

"I'll keep that in mind." He told her. "What are you doing for prom?"

"I don't know." She told him. "I guess maybe give it a miss."

"Come on!!! You have to go." He told her. "I'm asking Monica and maybe you can ask Darcy? You guys are somewhat friends right?"

"I guess you're right." She told him with a small smile. "I'll ask her tomorrow at school."

"Then we can go suit shopping if you want after school?" He questioned as Y/N nodded. Wanda hated the idea of someone else going with Y/N, the idea that someone may be the one to take her away for good.

So when she accepted Jarvis's prom proposal, she had the perfect plan. As the hall filled with the graduating seniors, she watched for Y/N to enter the room. Her heart beat rapidly as she saw her walk in wearing a navy blue suit with Darcy in a light blue dress on her arm. Her twin and Monica was right behind them.

She hated the sight of Y/N being happy with others, a smile that only Wanda used to get from the girl. Wanda took her glass of the red punch and tripped near the four of them, only getting the punch on both Y/N and Darcy.

"What the hell Wanda!" Pietro yelled at his twin as Monica was fast enough to take Darcy to the ladies room to try and clean up.

"What? I tripped." She told him, feigning innocence as Y/N shook her head at the brunette before walking away. Soon groaning as she heard the sound of Wanda's heels on the ground behind her.

"Don't you have a boyfriend to get back to?" Y/N asked her as she turned around to face Wanda.

"I do." She told her with a smirk as she followed Y/N to the exit. "But I want to try something first." Y/N turned around as she approached her car, only to be pushed back by Wanda as she pressed her lips on Y/N's in a hungry kiss. It wasn't until Y/N pushed her away from her.

"What the hell Wanda!" Y/N yelled at her.

"I just wanted to see what Carol bragged about." She smirked. "You are indeed an amazing kisser." She leaned into whisper in Y/N's ear. "Definitely got me going and needing something more." With that, she removed her wet underwear and shoved them in Y/N's face before walking away teasingly. Y/N just stood there in shock with Wanda's underwear in her hands. Watching dumbly as Wanda disappeared back inside the school. She was just happy that she wouldn't have to see Wanda again.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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utterdisaster1 · 6 months ago

Text

The Teenage Foolishness

Pairing: Sirius Black x male!reader angst at certain point, kinda smut at another. If you haven't read the previous post/chapter whatever, Y/N is muggle-born

Hope you like it! TW: use of Y/N, internalised homophobia, pining, erotic thoughts, erotic things in general, AMAB! reader, swearing, mentions of war, mentions of toxic family

After the first year, the following two were not particularly remarkable. That is not to say that the days were mundane, or that nothing interesting ever happened; rather, you were immersed in a routine devoid of anything exceptional to distinguish it.

You and the rest of the Marauders—a nickname coined by Lily of all people - "Unbelievable! You cost us 50 points, and for what?! Marauding around the castle like vagabonds… I cannot comprehend what is so special or enjoyable about being as much of a nuisance as Peeves!" - continued to pursue your intention of making the most of your years at the school, pranking those who deserved it (mainly the Slytherins) and not taking life too seriously

At times, you felt that James and Sirius, in particular, went a little overboard in targeting a specific individual, but simultaneously, he gave as good as he got, so you did not see much issue with the clear rivalry between your group and Severus Snape.

You continued to learn, to excel, and to immerse yourself in magical education, relentless in your persuit of knowing everything.

In your third year, you began tutoring some first-years in Transfiguration and Charms. You also encountered your first struggle - Arithmancy.

You chose it alongside Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures as your electives, thinking it wouldn’t be too challenging.

You did enjoy the Creatures class the most and found Ancient Runes, which included lessons on enchanting objects, warding, and curse-breaking, truly fascinating. You were always eager for those classes.

But Arithmancy… You thought it would simply be wizarding maths, but it was far from that. You barely scraped by in it and fully intended to drop it before fifth year. Spell-crafting be damned; if you had to read one more paragraph on the properties of numbers and shapes, you felt like you might spontaneously combust. And preparing for an OWL in it… that would be unbearable.

Another struggle that began in third year was dealing with feelings. Suddenly, you started experiencing peculiar emotions. Of course, there had been boys who caught your eye before, but it had never been significant. However, the affections you might have had, or not, seemed to grow in intensity.

Suddenly, instead of a mere sense of admiration, a deep longing emerged. You would catch yourself imagining how delightful it would be to walk hand in hand with them, to embrace them, to kiss them, to…

Even with the knowledge that your proclivities were not frowned upon in the wizarding world, the years you spent before joining it had conditioned you to feel guilt and denial. It felt as though you were being pushed by shame from one side and encouragement from the other, leaving no space for action.

So you suppressed those feelings, turning to those shameful late-night moments in which you inflicted some self-pleasure upon yourself.

You felt guilty thinking about schoolmates that way. The only comfort was that it usually wasn’t someone you were particularly close with, so objectifying them wasn’t thrown in your face the next morning.

Then the fifth year arrived, and with it, a very changed, taller, better-built Sirius.

He said he had spent most of his summer at his uncle Alphard's house, which had a Quidditch pitch nearby, allowing him to fly and work out every day. Training for his Beater position on the Quidditch team involved a lot of work from his arm and chest muscles.

And what a sight those muscles were, when he took his outer robe off, leaving only a thin dress shirt on. They were enthralling to watch, and it took you greater effort than fighting any duel, facing any Slytherin, or preparing for any exam to avert your gaze elsewhere.

It didn't help that he paid particular attention to you. There was something in his gaze that made you want to squirm.

It's worth mentioning you changed over the summer too. You barely had to lift your head now to look your dad straight in the eyes (which came with your mum droning on about needing to buy an entirely new wardrobe for you since all your clothes were too short). Your face became thinner, and your jawline more pronounced. You would often run, not from schoolmates, but for the simple release of pent-up energy from being deprived of magic (you would curse whoever it was that created the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, if they were still alive) and worrying about a possible raid from Death Eaters all summer.

You did try to act casual. But you were also 16. And suddenly, when the night came, the only thoughts you had, were of him.

His nature didn't help either. He was always affectionate with touch - an arm around your shoulder when walking together, his head always resting on someone's lap while relaxing on the couches in the Gryffindor common room. He did that with all of his friends.

So it meant he did it with you as well. In those moments, you begged to be back in the Arithmancy classroom, listening to lectures about numerological transcendence or whatever else you couldn't grasp, because it would still be easier than withstanding the force of Sirius Black's friendly affection. Friendly.

You always made sure to keep the outer robes on, so you could cover your crotch and the erection that occured whenever he tugged you closer to him or rested his head on your arm.

After one very close call, when he laid his head on your lap, you realised it had become essential never to sit next to him again. Not as long as you felt the way you did. It didn't help that the thoughts of his mouth so close to that particular area contributed to your unseemly activities later that evening and were followed by a sense of shame when you saw him the next morning while preparing to go down for breakfast.

And even if you told yourself that you were dealing with this insufferable infatuation, you couldn't help but feel jealous of the people who sparked Sirius' interest. You weren't the only person who had noticed how he had changed over the summer, after all.

It seemed every other week there would be a new girl clutching onto him like a lifeline. And considering the affection he showed his friends, you shouldn't have been surprised by how flagrant he was with them.

The shameless make-out sessions, blatant touching, and disgusting displays like feeding each other were hard to ignore. But over time, you got used to it. You didn't accept it, but it was just something that happened, yet another flaw in the world. It still was better than the fact that there was an actual war happening outside the school halls, a war against people like you, or rather, about ridding the world of people like you.

But then, one day, Sirius showed up for lunch with a boy. A Ravenclaw, one year above you. All of you were confused. And confusion turned into many different emotions when the ministrations that Sirius' girlfriends received were extended to him.

If you felt uneasy before, now you were actually physically sick. You wanted to vomit, to break something, or rather someone.

Ironically, one of the few comforts you had in the entire situation was knowing that if you never stood a chance with him, it wasn't because of your appearance or any other personal attribute, but simply because he was exclusively into girls. This made it easier to avoid letting yourself fantasise about being with him. At that point, however, the reality stung more sharply—knowing that he chooses not to have an interest in you, despite being open to it. It just made it all more painful.

So you quickly excused yourself and exited the Hall. You didn't run and cry, thinking about jumping off the astronomy tower like some heartsick, stupid people would do. You weren't sad. You were angry. Furious. Livid. Violent.

You hadn't noticed Remus going after you, all the way to the Forbidden Forest. You hadn't noticed him as you were throwing all known curses and hexes at a large pile of rocks, annihilating it in the process.

But after you were done, and decided to go back, there he stood. With this look of pity. Maybe you weren't as subtle as you thought, or maybe it was him being his usual, too perceptive self.

"I would say that it gets better, but I'm not going to start lying to you," he said.

"Are you- Do you- You too? With Sirius, I mean," you replied.

"Merlin no!" and after a short pause, "Well, maybe a little last year. But it went out the window after he insulted Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, massive turn-off," he said, the last part with a scoff, "And I'm more partial to the fair sex, being honest with you."

"How long have you known?" you asked.

"You know how my senses are heightened? Due to- you know. Well, some stronger emotions have the slightest scents that I can detect. They don't really compare to any normal ones… well, the technicalities don't really matter. Arousal is one of those scents, and I smelled it off of you while you were looking at him in the distance once or twice."

"Well, thank you for not calling me out on it," you said with the slightest of smiles. At that point, you also had to ask, because you knew it would nag you forever, "So if you can actually smell emotions, that means that things like…" You didn't exactly know how to ask whether he could smell you wank in the night, so you just made a gesture. He didn't seem unsettled by your question, to his credit.

"Oh, yeah, at first it was quite uncomfortable, but you weren't the first one to do it... Sirius was always hyper and he is the oldest, I suppose," he said, then continued, "I learned a spell to shield my bed from all smells in Second Year, but I forget to cast it sometimes," he said while rubbing the nape of his neck.

"Well, I've never felt more sorry for you, especially with Peter's dirty socks..." you said.

“Yes, well, it comes with living with four other teenage boys. But I’m the one who’s supposed to comfort you right now, not the other way around,” he said with a small laugh.

“You did say it wouldn’t just get better, as if from experience… Who were you that angry about? You, the calmest, most reasonable and even-tempered Gryffindor in history.”

“There was one particular girl that Sirius had dated about a month ago, and now even if I did try to ask her out, I’d be asking Sirius’ ex out. It did irk me, knowing he would drop her after a week or so anyway.”

“A shame you hadn’t told me; then we could wallow in self-pity together,” you chuckled a little. Maybe Freud was onto something with his “just talk about it and it will get better.” Although, you were also quite tired, so maybe there was simply no energy for anger at the moment.

“Do you want to smash some things too? I could conjure more rocks if you’d like,” you asked.

He smiled. “No, but I will tell you if I do. Let’s head back; I think we’re already late for Potions.”

You groaned. “Fuck Potions, we’re both rubbish at it anyway. Besides, I don’t know if I have it in me not to throw some beetle eyes or something equally disgusting at him right now.” You said this as you started walking back towards the castle.

“I am a prefect, you know,” Remus replied.

“Oh? So I suppose it wasn’t you who turned Mulciber’s hair into snakes yesterday?” you responded with a small chuckle.

He just huffed but didn’t rebut.

______________________________________________________________

What you and Remus failed to talk about and consider were appearances. There was nothing out of the ordinary with Remus’, but you, however, looked as if you’d just emerged from a fighting ring - messy hair, ruffled clothes, and scratches from the rock shards that you hadn’t even registered.

After worried questions stemming from a calm, “What happened?” from Peter, to James’ intense, “Did someone do this to you?! Tell. Me. Who!” you just said you’d fallen down the stairs, and Remus had taken you to the infirmary, which explained your absence during Potions class. And since it was just a theory lesson, you doubted Slughorn noticed or cared much.

The rest of the day, after fixing yourself up in the bathroom, you tried to act as usual. And it mostly worked. But, as seemed to be the pattern of the day, Sirius disrupted your attempts at casualness. It wasn’t his fault per se, since you always sat together in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Normally, you would chat and joke, having already mastered the subject. But today, you didn’t even want to see him, let alone talk to him.

Sirius wasn’t stupid, nor as self-conceited as some believed. He noticed the lack of banter and witty responses from you and asked, “Are you okay? You seem a little off today.”

Clearly he didn’t connect the dots that your being "a little off" might be related to your supposed fall down the stairs. His mind was probably preoccupied with that Ravenclaw arsewipe he had shown up with, making it clear he was bi.

So you simply responded, “I’m fine,” and started taking notes. This really set Sirius off, because you never did that in Defence class. By Fourth Year, you had enough knowledge and skill to score an Outstanding in NEWT for the subject. You had even ventured into Knockturn Alley to buy books on martial magic, most containing curses only found in the restricted section of the school library. He knew why you were so determined to master this area of magic. With raids, disappearances, and murders reported every other day, who wouldn’t be?

Sirius thought that maybe something else had happened other than the fall, but what could it be? No one dared to challenge you to a duel or sneak up on you after you sent the youngest Yaxley brother to the infirmary with so many afflictions and injuries he didn’t get out until a week later (you only got three nights of detention since it was technically self-defence after he tried to use the body-bind curse on you from behind first. The Gryffindor privilege probably played a part in that as well). You didn’t seem to be under a side-effect of pain medicine either.

He only realized the lesson was over because of your abrupt departure the moment the bell rang.

But there was someone with you when whatever happened had occurred - Remus. He had the answers, and Sirius was adamant about finding out the truth. But when he turned towards the desk Remus sat at, it was empty as well.

Suspicious.

Both of you disappearing halfway through the day and then coming back disheveled with a very convenient story... Could you...? Together?

Now, with his mind racing, Sirius reached the only plausible conclusion: it became clear he was into guys too, and one of you must have gotten jealous, so you sorted it out. The idea that Remus could have been the one to be with you like that, while Sirius was left out, sparked something he never wanted to feel about any of his friends - jealousy.

He loved Moony, don't get him wrong. But it was you and him that always had a little stack of letters after the holidays for each other, since neither could send them during the summer. "Merlin! I didn't know we had some summer essays set to write. What will we do, Pete?" James would always laugh. It was you and him that hated going away from Hogwarts because the castle was where you truly felt at home. It was you and him that sat together by the Black Lake in you spot, sharing those quiet moments that seemed to stretch into forever.

Why wouldn't you consider him for something more, then? He wasn't a saint, he knew that. But he also had access to mirrors, and he was a friend as long as Moony was.

And he had to admit, when he saw you on the train in September, desire surged through him. But you never seemed to look at him too long, let alone show any sign of actual interest. So he tried what he had seen work on those desperate girls and used all the tricks he had. But those attempts only seemed to turn you off, making you retreat from him. He recalled that evening when he laid his head on your lap, asking you to braid or play with his hair, and instead of blushing and giggling like those girls did, you immediately needed to get back to the dorm, claiming there was "a book you forgot to return to the library, and you better run before Madam Pince closes it" or some other excuse. After that, you avoided sitting next to him, except for during class.

When he saw you could defend yourself from the baby death eaters - commonly known as Slytherins - he stopped pretending not to associate with you. He was openly best friends with a "blood traitor," which, in his parents' eyes, was as bad as being a "filthy little Mudblood." So, he would get punished anyway.

He cherished the surprise on your face when he sat next to you at the Sorting Ceremony, the delight in your eyes when you realised he wasn’t playing the charade he had in First Year.

He was always honest with you. He never felt it important to discuss his sexuality, especially since you never mentioned yours. He assumed you shared his sentiment. But now it was clear that you had discussed it with someone - just not him. Maybe you and Remus had a special spot as well? Or maybe, the spot by the lake was only special to Sirius, and you came there only when dear Remus was too busy, or worse, out of pity, because Sirius would sit there sometimes, hoping you would appear.

He hated that feeling. You were his friends. He shouldn't be mad at you two being close, being together. But he was. He was angry with you, and he was even more furious with himself.

Maybe if he just mellowed down his advances, you would start to show similiar affection towards him as well? Or maybe you did feel it, but was just awkward about it and he hadn't noticed?

And then there were the flings.

So on one hand, you might be plainly uninterested, wanting nothing more than friendship. On the other, you might have been interested, but he had ruined it.

He had ruined it all, just as he always seemed to. His mother had often said so. His father, his br- Regulus, never disagreed.

He didn't ever realise he was now alone, with tears glistening in his eyes, heading towards nowhere in particular

______________________________________________________________

The rest of the week was tense for the Marauders. Sirius retreated as he had after his first Howler back in First Year. Fortunately, this time he already had James. Pete stuck by him too, offering snacks in the evenings and welcome distractions. Both of them knew Peter didn’t need help with Herbology, yet he asked Sirius for it, for example.

Not that you and Remus were there to witness most of these moments. You were cooped up in the library, sometimes together with Lily, Marlene, and Mary.

You didn’t know if it was just instinct or if you were that easy to read, but the three girls took to comforting you as well. Your study sessions continued with the addition of Lily’s dormmates, which made things much more fun, but also much riskier, since Madam Pince didn’t take kindly to any disturbances of silence, and snickering was very much a disturbance.

One evening, Marlene said that when she was sad she did her first piercing by herself. She mentioned it off-handedly, while being scolded by Lily and Mary for getting her nose infected - that attempt was not as successful as the first one “or numerous following ones!” Marlene didn’t fail to add.

So, when you were returning to the common room, you asked her which piercing wasn’t too painful and if she would be willing to do it for you. She eagerly agreed, recommending helix piercings since earlobes were “too obvious.”

And as much as it wasn’t the most pleasant experience, it wasn’t too bad either. You settled for piercings in each ear. Marlene said it was fate, since the Hogsmeade trip would be happening in two days. You would be able to buy your own jewellery, wearing hers for now.

You were barely the first person to have some alterations to their appearance done, so it didn’t gain much attention from most, only your friends, who you didn’t have many of, especially since three of your dormmates seemed engrossed with something they were sharing with neither you nor Remus. Even Mary said you looked "dashing", and with her being one of the icons (Marlene had called her a guru) of style by that point, you knew it really meant something.

You saw the dark circles under Sirius’ eyes, as well as how puffy they were. You wanted to comfort him, truly you did. He was your friend, first and foremost. But now, it seemed he was avoiding you. You thought of cornering him somehow but thought better of it. One can’t make Sirius Black do or say anything he doesn’t want to do. And he did not take kindly to attempts at trying.

So, you left him be and didn’t address any of the occasional looks you got from him with anything else but, what you hoped was, a comforting smile.

The trip to Hogsmeade was as eventful as any other, but with you not only buying earrings but some rings as well. You made sure none were made of silver, mindful of Moony.

The Sunday, however, proved to be something entirely else. You were planning on writing the Potions essay and reading the latest issue of Transfiguration Today. You hoped there would be at least something more than a mere mention of the Animagus process, having found only some sparse remarks on it in the books you’d read in the library so far.

There was always the Restricted Section, but you needed the Cloak for that, and James was always with Sirius.

And as much of a pain as it was to write about the Draught of Peace, it was one of the possible potions to brew for your OWL exam, and you needed one in Potions, no matter how much you loathed the idea of studying the subject at NEWT level. But you needed the NEWT to be allowed into the Auror Training, and complaining would get you nowhere.

But when you were finally done and reached for the magazine on your nightstand, the dorm room burst open, and in came James, Peter, and Sirius. And they came with purpose.

“Right, we’re going to settle this. You,” James pointed at you and Sirius, “will stay in this room until you’re okay again. I will let you starve to death if I have to.” And with that, he came out, locking the door.

You looked at Sirius and didn’t know what else to say but, “Always with dramatics, that one.”

Sirius didn’t respond at first, just looked at you for some time. You avoided his stare, which clearly was the wrong thing to do, seeing what he asked you next.

“Why can’t you even look at me?” he said in a tone much more broken than Sirius should sound like. You had only witnessed a few times over the five years you’d known each other. So you did look at him, straight in the eyes, and responded.

“Of course I can look at you.” You really didn’t know how to handle this. You didn’t even know what exactly it was about.

“Since we returned in September, you don’t want to, though,” after a short pause, he asked, “We’re friends, right? Friends tell each other things.”

“Of course we’re friends. Why would you question that?” you said immediately.

He looked at you, intensely, expectantly. But you really didn’t know what he could want you to say. There was no way he knew about your crush, right?

Seeing that he wasn’t going to receive what he had hoped for, he said with a clipped tone, “Then why didn’t you tell me about you and Remus? Or James and Pete, for that matter?”

Now you were really bewildered. You wanted to ask what he meant, but he clearly wasn’t finished.

“I bet you told Marls and the other two, though, always hanging around with each other now. I mean, I could understand if you’d just started and were figuring things out, but once you’re having sex, I think it’s serious enough to mention it to people you claim are your family!” he finished, shouting.

“What do you- Are- Sex!? With who!?”

“Well, Moony of course, unless you were doing it with Marlene in the third-floor bathroom on Thursday too!”

"For fuck's sake, have you taken something!? Or is this some very elaborate prank!?" You didn’t allow him to respond just yet. "I’m not having sex with anyone, I’m not in a relationship with anyone, Marlene only pierced my ears," you said, pointing at your ears. "And I really don’t think that Remus fetching me from the Forbidden Forest is that significant to mention!"

Sirius seemed surprised. You rarely screamed or shouted, preferring to just hex someone if they were going too far. Of all the questions now flooding his mind, he asked,

"What were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?"

"I was smashing up some rocks, if it’s that important to you. And I left the centaurs one of the phoenix feathers I found last year in the Astronomy Tower, along with a very sincere apology letter the next day, so I doubt they’ll want to hunt me down. It was only a pile of rocks anyway; I made sure not to harm any trees or animals."

"Why?"

"You know centaurs are the ones that planted and protect the forest. They demand respect. I doubt me coming in all unreasonable and entitled to destroy parts of it, even as irrelevant as a pile of-" At that, he interrupted you.

"I don’t care about the centaurs! Why were you wrecking rocks, and if that’s what happened on Monday, why are you cross with me?"

"I— I’m not cross with you, and it doesn’t matter why. It’s stupid, and I’m dealing with it."

"Maybe I could help, you know. Or at least you could have told me."

You were getting sick of his apparent entitlement to all your issues and that, mixed with still not fully gone anger at him over the Ravenclaw, prompted you to say with a clipped tone, "Well, you seem pretty preoccupied these days. I wouldn’t want to get groped by accident."

His eyes widened, cheeks reddened, and his mouth opened and closed in a repeated cycle. He was visibly thinking about what to say next.

"Is that why you’ve been avoiding me? Seeing me with those girls?"

You barely even registered saying, "You forgot the Ravenclaw already?"

At that you saw a hint of a smirk on his face, but what was more noticeable was the step he took towards you. "Did it bother you? Seeing me like that?"

Oh, you definitely didn’t like the direction this conversation was going. So you quickly tried to escape the looming vision of actually confessing your feelings to him.

"Who wouldn’t be bothered? People do go to that Hall to eat their food. You and whoever else was your conquest of the week were trying to eat each other."

He only inched closer. "No one else was demolishing the forest because of that, though, were they?"

You faltered. You were losing this argument, and you’d have to go past Sirius to reach your wand, which you had inconveniently left on the bed.

"You know, a lot of things just started to make sense to me..." He was almost within touching distance.

"Well, enlighten me then," you said, hoping your tone was more confident than you felt.

"The way you distanced yourself, wouldn’t look at me too long... I thought I might have done something bad or wrong, but now I’m realising," and after a pause, in a much huskier tone, "I actually might have done the opposite."

He did touch you now, caressing your arm. "I’m going to ask you something, Y/N, and I need you to be honest." The hand went from your arm to your chin, directing your head to look him in the face. You hadn’t realised you had been looking just past his shoulder for most of that monologue.

The only thing you did realise, was that Sirius was tall.

"If I kissed you right now, would you return it?"

You were overwhelmed. And, more importantly, starting to get hard. No.

But apparently, your subconscious decided to answer for you, and you nodded.

Sirius didn’t wait a second. He leaned in, practically attacking your mouth.

The kiss was rough, with teeth clashing at first. You supposed it was probably clumsy, but you didn’t have anything to compare it with.

You tried to mimic what Sirius was doing, and in a moment of daring (you were still a Gryffindor, after all), you bit his lower lip, eliciting a low groan from Sirius.

You usually learned best through practice, and kissing apparently wasn’t an exception. You became more confident with each second his lips moved with yours, and when you felt his tongue brush against your lower lip, you instinctively opened your mouth.

The tongue slipped in immediately, accompanied by a satisfied hum from Sirius. It was strange, the sensation of it in your mouth at first, against your own. But you quickly found yourself enjoying it, and the fact that his hands were now firmly on your waist, running up and down, certainly didn’t discourage you.

For someone who detested the very thought of being overpowered, you surprisingly enjoyed Sirius’ dominant position right now.

You rested your arms on his shoulders and started running your right hand through the hair on the back of his head, eliciting another groan, of satisfaction, you hoped.

You began to move your tongue along with his, and sooner than you realised, it became a battle. You were growing more and more eager to explore his mouth as well.

The fact that you were currently making out with your long-term crush was not lost on you, nor did it fail to make you even more aroused with each passing second. You had imagined a moment like this many times. In fact, you had imagined many other moments, and seeing how physical Sirius was, there was a big chance of them turning into memories or maybe, if you dared to think, regular occurrences.

In fact, you wouldn’t settle for anything less. You were not interested in becoming one of many in the long line of Sirius Black’s dalliances, as Remus liked to say sometimes.

And so, with great effort - both in actually willing yourself to do it, as well as managing against Sirius’ strength - you pulled away.

His eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated, but a brow started to rise in question.

"I’m not ruining our friendship for a week of fun with you, Sirius," you said, still breathless, but it was clear you were being frank right now.

"I’m not either," he responded. "I want it to be more," he said.

"What are you saying?" you asked with a smirk, knowing very well what, but still wanting to hear it.

He rolled his eyes playfully. "And you complained about James’ flair for dramatics," he said, and immediately dropped to one knee and took your hand. "Y/N L/N, will you, the breathtaking vision of enchanting beauty, the enthralling light of brilliance, do me the honour of allowing me to become your partner in love and life?" he asked in an over-dramatic tone.

You laughed and said in the same manner, "Sirius Black, your words have melted my heart completely. I’d be thrilled to become your boyfriend."

He pretended to cry, followed by a quite amusing spectacle of pretending to die out of sheer joy, and then stood up, held you to him, and kissed you again, this time more tenderly. This kiss didn’t seem desperate but wasn’t chaste in any way either. You pulled him closer by his shirt, having your chests press together. He seemed very satisfied with it.

He was starting to pull your sweater off when the doors burst open with James in the front yet again, this time shrieking. Remus, who apparently joined him and Peter in the common room during your time alone with Sirius, said, "Turns out you were right, they were suffocating each other... Not in the way you predicted though," he added with a low chuckle.

Peter’s face was as red as a beet, and James just stared. After a while, he said, "I call you both my brothers, so it’s incest, you know. I’ll tell my mum."

"You’re just worried I’ll cut into your cuddle time with him," you said to James, receiving a laugh from Remus and a smirk from Sirius that contradicted his severe tone.

"He could never cut into that, Jamie, you don’t have to worry."

James decided to just shove him with a laugh as a response.

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faerygrant · 1 year ago

Text

so much wine - carmen berzatto x reader

summary: Carmen wants to prove to you that your relationship means a lot to him, what better way to do so than introducing you to his mother over dinner.

warnings: angst, swearing, minor injury, crazy Donna Berzatto appearance

Christmas time in Chicago was indeed the most wonderful time of year, in your opinion of-course. Snow was falling, trees brightly decorated in twinkling fairy lights and colourful ornaments and most of all, it was a time for reuniting with family and friends.

The beginning of your relationship with Carmen was…unorthodox to say the least. He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend in the normal way most men did, it was an awkward three months into your “arrangement” of sleeping together, him being partially moved into your brownstone and being introduced to all of his staff at the Bear when you finally posed the question. What are we?

He was stunned, you were stunned and you both stood there for a good 5 minutes in silence until he admitted he thought you were already dating, causing you to let out a loud sigh of relief. You’d told him that usually one asks the other to be their girlfriend to which he just shrugged and smiled, telling you he wanted you to be “his forever.” That satisfied you.

Now meeting his family wasn’t a big deal to you, you’d met Nat only a month into the relationship, as she was regularly at the restaurant, you’d heard about what happened to his brother but never pestered him much about it, as for the rest of his family, he never spoke much about them. He of-course called Richie cousin but you were mad very aware early on by Carmen, that they weren’t actually related in any way.

It hadn’t bothered you much until one night a few weeks ago, while out with your friends, Christmas plans were mentioned, one of them asking if you’d be spending it with yours or Carmy’s parents to which you admitted you hadn’t yet met them. Most of the girls shrugged it off but Mia, your highschool friend had taken this as a red flag.

“You’ve been with him for a year, he’s met your parents, you guys LIVE together and you haven’t met his mom?” Her eyes bulged in disbelief, leading you to down your cosmo worriedly.

“I’m sure it’s nothing and if it is, he probably has good reason. He could be protecting you, you never know” Your other friend Maisie assured, ever the voice of reason. You smiled at her words. Though you couldn’t pretend that you hadn’t began to internalise what Mia had said. You knew Carmy’s dad left when they were younger, but he never mentioned his mother, ever. Unless Sugar did and he’d always step out when they’d speak about her. The only photos you’d seen of her were when you’d visit Sugar and Pete’s and even then, they were old ones.

So yes, despite the holiday being the most wonderful time of the year, the past few days the issue of Carmen’s mom had been weighing on you heavily. You’d considered prying information out of Richie, but you knew he was too loyal to Carmen, Fak would rat you out to Richie, who once again, would alert Carmen of your questions. You knew the best thing to do was either ask your boyfriend or forget about it, unfortunately your brain wasn’t going to allow yourself to do either.

Luckily for you, Carmen had noticed how out of it you’d been acting the past days and had finally had enough. So one evening after work, the restaurant closing early due to heavy snow, Carmy had approached you, ready for answers.

“Are we good?” He asks, taking a seat beside you on the bed. His tattooed arms bulging as he crossed them, adorned in a navy sweater and grey sweats. His hair was a curly mess probably from the windy evening air and he smelt of cigarette smoke and cologne.

“Wha- why wouldn’t we be?” You place the book you were reading besides you on the table and turn to look at him, feigning innocence.

“I dunno, you’ve just been actin’ kinda’ off past couple a days” he pauses, brining your knuckles to his lips and slowly grazing them with kisses. “Thought maybe you were mad at me” his tone is questioning.

“Oh Carmy, it’s not that.” You feel horrible, leaning into him to peck at his face. “It’s just that the girls and I were discussing Christmas plans and the conversation slipped into parents and Mia pointed out the fact that you’ve never introduced me to your mom, even though you’ve met both of my parents.” Immediately you see the way he tenses up, his veins appearing and his body stiffens.

“That really what’s been botherin’ you?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah.”

“I jus- my ma’s not all there.” He whispers quietly, you notice how difficult it is for him, so you take his big hand in yours, squeezing tightly.

“Carmen I understand, it’s just important for me. If we’re going to be married one day and start a family than I’d like to meet her. The last thing I’d do is judge her.” You assure him, hopping he’d somehow believe you.

“I dunno, we’ll see.” He whispers, failing to meet your gaze.

“Alright.”

It was two weeks later, with lots of talking, deep heart to hearts and support from Nat and Pete, Donna Berzatto was coming to dinner at your an Carmy’s place. Carmy was a nervous wreck, insisting on working on the food in the kitchen while you just relaxed and set the table.

He warned you about her and so did Nat, you thought you had an idea of what to expect, what was to come walking through that door in a few minutes but you’d underestimated Donna Berzatto, oh how you’d underestimated her.

Carmen had just placed the braised lamb dish on the table, while you popped open the bottle of red for the night when the sound of your doorbell continuously being rung alerted the both of you. That wasn’t the only sound however, shouts of “Carmen!” Sounded from the door, along with the banging of a flat palm. Ok so maybe you knew where the night was going to be headed.

Carmen sighed, rubbing your shoulder assuringly before making his way to the front door.

“My baby boy, oh you look tired and pale, why?” You heard her fussing, her voice echoing from the foyer.

“I’m fine Ma s’jus winter.” Carmen mumbles, when finally you see her walk into the dining room. Her blonde hair is curled, red lipstick, smudged eyeliner from what you can only assume was a cry session before she’d gotten here, a bottle of whiskey in hand and long bright red manicured nails.

“Mrs Berzatto, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You hold your hand out to shake hers and she simply looks you up and down before looking to Carmen.

“Would you turn the heat up in here Carmen, I’m freezing.” She exaggerates, before taking a seat at the table, completely dismissing your introduction.

“Ma, she was talkin’ to you, don’t be rude.” Carmy speaks, already becoming frustrated with his mother. She had the audacity to show drunk and disheveled, reeking of whiskey and then act rude towards his girlfriend.

“Didn’t hear her.” She shrugs, making herself at home and reaching for the bottle of wine which she grabs, pouring a generous amount into a glass and chugging.

“It’s fine baby, just turn the heat up, I’ll serve the food.” You brush his arm affectionately. You’d try to remain composed, you’d try not to let her win, after all it was your idea in the end to have her over and you weren’t going to crack easily.

Donna had somehow settled, the three of you eating in awkward silence, the only sound being the scraping of forks and knives and sips of wine, mostly on Donna’s part.

“So Mrs Berzatto, what’ve you been up to recently?” You attempt again at conversation with her.

“Not seeing my son obviously, since you’ve got him cooped up in here, you the reason he doesn’t even bother to call his mother anymore?” She drops her fork against her plate, a loud “clank” ringing throughout the room.

“Ma you know exactly why I haven’t called, stop tryna’ blame her.”

“Oh so now I’m the bad guy for missing my baby boy?” She stands dramatically from her seat, the table shaking slightly. She’s hysterical, tears beginning to stream down her face as she points an accusatory finger at you.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, tryna use my son for his money and steal him away from me.” Her arms are moving wildly and before you know it, the glass of wine had swung off the table, the glass shattering onto the white tile. A large puddle of red, dripping below the table.

“Fuck, shit, fuck I got it” Carmen groans, but you push him to sit back down. You already felt guilty for pressuring him into inviting his mom over, he knew how it would go but you’d been so stubborn.

“It’s fine I’ve got it Carmy.” You try reaching for the pieces of glass while you hear Donna continuing her blabbering rant. You’re so distracted that you don’t even realise the blood that begins to pour from your palm.

“Fuck” you mumble, not wanting to alarm Carmen, however you’re too late.

“See what you fuckin’ made her do ma? Get the fuck out of our house now, I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt for her and you treat her like this? Not fuckin’ havin it, we’re done here!” He shouts and his mother is stunned.

“You’re really going to speak to your own mother like that?”

“Yes, and I’m going to show you to the fuckin’ door now”

“You sure you okay baby, no more pain?” Carmen asks for what feels like the hundredth time, his lips grazing your bandaged hand.

“I’m sure Carmy, thank you for cleaning me up.” He just smiles at you, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Carmen?”

“Hmm?” It comes out muffled, the sensation tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry for pestering you, you were right about her”

“Don’t apologise, you were curious and you deserved to know and see for yourself.”

“I know but I shouldn’t have pressed you, you were just protecting me, and I love you for that.” He removes his face from your neck, kissing you tenderly and whispering a quiet “I love you too”

“Can I ask you something?” He questions later while the two of you are in bed, cuddled up under the sheets.

“Anything.” You assure.

“Does this change the way you see me?”

“Never, you’re not your mother Carmy.” And those words are assuring enough to allow him to fall asleep peacefully that night.

#carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #the bear fic #donna berzatto #reader x carmen berzatto

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naanima · 1 month ago

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I was meant to be working on my Daniel Fest fic, but this took over my brain, and I wrote it in a haze of frenzy this evening. NOT BETA read. I'm gonna edit this before the end of the year and post it to Ao3. BUT AFTER my Daniel Fest fic dammit.

2.1k words. Daniel wants a baby. He just needs an alpha to fulfil that. Doesn't mean they need to know they are contributing to the next generation of Ricciardo greatness.

EXPLICIT. Sex. Lots of OMEGAVERSE sex.

This is UNHINGED, morally wrong, but I'd argue FICTIONALLY delicious. Maxiel Omega verse. Post 2024 F1 season.

BABY FEVER

He had stopped taking his suppressants back in October, had gone through an insane heat with Heidi that lasted three days, and had his last Depo injection in November. Everyone he knew seemed to be having babies (Scotty couldn't stop holding his baby daughter in his arms, Daniel was so happy for him. Max couldn't stop smiling when talking about the baby Verstappen that was on the way, Daniel wanted to smash his fist through the fucking plasterboard or maybe drop a toaster in the fucking bathtub while he was taking a bath in it).

Maybe it was because he finally had time, or maybe it was because of his biological clock ticking down, or hell, maybe it was the desire to love something unconditionally, he realised that he wanted to have a kid of his own. So he had broached it with Heidi. And well.

("I love you but I don't want children").

So, he was single now, and his next heat in late Feb was going to be rough. He could get through it alone, or he could hire one of the discrete services. But he didn't want either option. He wanted to get fucked deep and hard till he was a crying mindless mess. But that was something future Daniel had to figure out, because now Daniel was a sad fucking sack who decided to spend a week alone in his LA house to mope about the end of his relationship, eat too much junk food and went shitty movies.

He did not expect to go on a research spiral. He looked at surrogacy options, looked at sperm banks, went in for appointments with agencies, and left them emotionally drained and cold. He went home and read all the reading materials they provided him, and after drinking a bottle of his own wine, he had woken up the following morning hungover and with the realisation that fuck, he wanted to carry the baby himself. Sure, he still thinks babies are like the chest-bursters from the "Alien" movies, and that they are like parasites who alter the carrier's brain chemistry and that they couldn't help themselves but love them. But Daniel wanted a baby of his own, a life that he could carry for nine months under his heart, and he wanted to get there by choosing someone he thought would be a great dad.

He ignored the whole lack of a father for his hypothetical future kid for several days before the insomnia and his stressed out brain said enough. He knew who he wanted as the father of his kid, fuck, he had always known he wanted more, but internalised homophobia was a bitch (his therapist explained it to him, thank you Catholicism and the patriarchy, fucking hurrah), and by the time he figured it out, well, Max was already in a commited relationship with Kelly. So Daniel had chickened out and gotten back together with Heidi.

And now. Well, now Max was having a baby with Kelly, and Daniel was fucking alone in LA wanting Max Verstappen to fuck a baby into him. And. Wait. Well. No Daniel, that would be bad, it would be immoral, it would be a fucking shitty thing to do to a friend. And just no.

Except. Daniel wanted it badly. And Daniel Ricciardo always tried everything he could to get what he wanted.

…

He was sweating, and he felt like he was breathing through thick honeyed molasses, and he could still stop this now. Could call Max and tell him he was feeling sick, to not come to his apartment for their catch up today. And then he could crawl into bed and fuck himself with his knot dildo. But fuck, he had planned this, timed his cycle down to the fucking hour, had flown to Monaco with a low heat fever because he had to make sure that Max didn't have time to think, to be suspicious, to not want Daniel. He prayed that Max still wanted him, sure, not to be in a relationship with, but still wanted to fuck him.

He was pretty confident that Max did.

If he was a better man he would be feeling guilt about trying to bang Max, a man in a long-term relationship. But fuck, Daniel was not a better man, nobody that lasted in F1 was a good person. Kelly would have Max for the rest of her life, Daniel was only going to have Max for one day. And fuck, it wasn't as if Max didn't fuck other people with Kelly's knowledge. Daniel would just end up being an omega Max fucked once.

And god, he was leaking, slick sliding down his thighs. And god he needed something in him n-

“Daniel, where are you?”

And shit, fuck, Max’s finger print was registered to his Monaco apartment because Daniel trusted Max. He could hear Max moving across the apartment, he was getting closer, Daniel could smell Max's scent - the salt of ocean breeze and ozone.

“Dani -” Max rounded the corner and stopped, face lax in surprise at the sight that Daniel must be making. He could see Max’s brain kicking in even as he took a deep breath of the air. Daniel’s scent must be overwhelming, burnt caramel and honey. It must be overwhelming and sickening.

“Daniel, you are in heat”, Max said, voice croaky, hands curled into fists at his side. But he wasn't leaving, he was watching Daniel sprawled over the couch, swamped in sweat and taking gasping breath as he tried to not pull his shorts down and fuck his fingers into his hole.

“Max,” Daniel whined, one hand grasping his cock through his shorts, and one hand running his right pec. “Please.”

And Max, his pupils were blown wide, the inky blackness eating away at the blue of his iris. Max's scent had become stronger, permeating the air, salty air and scorched earth, and Daniel felt saliva build up in his mouth, as his body produced more slick. Max's eyes flicked down to Daniel's splayed legs, the gap between his thighs. His eyes looked at Daniel with concentration, and Daniel could see him connecting the dots.

“You planned this.” Max didn't sound angry. Didn't sound particularly like anything. Just self contained and in control.

“Well.” And Daniel was ready for this, “I'm too chicken shit to do it otherwise.” He swallowed the buildup of saliva in his mouth, felt the dryness of his throat. “One time deal Maxy. No strings attached.” Well, except the bun in the oven, but Max wasn't going to ever find out about that.

Max closed his eyes, took a deep breath and after several seconds opened them. And yep, there was Max Verstappen, four time world champion, seeing any vulnerability and taking it. He stalked over to Daniel, leaned down, one large hand grabbed him by the chin and forced Daniel to look into his eyes.

“Daniel, we are going to have a talk about this after your heat. You are very lucky I like you, and that Kelly doesn't mind that I,” Max paused, face scrunched as he searched for the correct word. “That I am a person who likes helping a close friend when they are in need.” And fuck that shit, fuck Kelly and her fucking permission. Daniel didn't want her here, not even in thought.

He grabbed Max by the head and pulled him down for a kiss. Max let him, his mouth hot and slick, he made the kiss deeper and filthier with tongue. Daniel groaned into the kiss, whimpered as Max pulled back. Max smirked, the bastard,

“Get up Daniel, we are not having sex on your couch. Your back would not be happy.”

And Daniel got up.

…

Daniel wasn't sure about other omegas’ heat. But for him, it always felt like he had no control, that he was moving through thick humid air and the only break, the only air and water that could cool him was an alpha's touch. And Max was the best relief for Daniel's thirst.

Max’s hands were around thighs, pushing them wide as he ate him out. Tongue licked around his slick leaking hole, sucking on the rim, swallowing Daniel's slick down. It was so fucking good, but Daniel needed more.

“Max I need -” Daniel cut off in a guttural groan as Max pushed three fingers into his gushing hole next to his tongue. Max pushed in and out with all three fingers, and without warning spread them wide, stretching Daniel's hole wide. And Daniel’s body locked as he came with a shout.

He might have blacked out a bit, when he was next aware, Max was kissing him, he could taste his own slick on Max’s tongue - sweet caramel and honey, covered by Max’s strong ozone and salt. One of Max’s hands was wrapped around his jaw as he fucked Daniel's mouth with his tongue. He felt Max’s other hand push his left thigh wide, and Max’s hot wet cock rub between his spread thighs. Slow roll of his hips, their wet cocks sliding against each other. And then Max shifted his hips till his cock was against Daniel's entrance, Max paused in gnawing at Daniel's lips, pushed his tongue into Daniel’s mouth for a deep kiss, and without warning fucked his wet dick into Daniel in one long push.

Daniel mewled at Max’s unrelenting push, the slight burn as he was opened up by Max’s cock.

“Daniel, baby, you are so good,” Max groaned into his ears as he pulled out of Daniel and fucked back in. Daniel couldn't say anything, just let out open mouthed wet shuddering gasps as Max fucked him. His cock felt huge, grinding Daniel's inside until Daniel felt like he was made for Max, a hole made for Max's cock to fuck.

“Daniel, god, I wanted to do this for so long. Fuck. Baby.” Max let out a deep groan as he pushed his cock back in hard, his knot flaring as he pulled back, and Daniel whimpered at the tight pull of Max’s knot on his rim. He knew he was crying, that he was taking short gasping breaths as Max fucked back in, his knot made Daniel a drooling omega who needed to be breed by their alpha. And Daniel came, body tightening around Max's knot, come spilled out of his cock, and slick gushed out of his hole.

Max gritted his teeth at Daniel's body tightening around his cock, he pushed in, ground his cock against the tight softness of Daniel's inside, and came with a deep moan. His come filled Daniel to the brim, Daniel felt his belly swell with the amount of come.

He was happy, why did he wait so long for this.

…

The next twelve hours was spent fucking in between short naps and easy to consume snacks and sport drinks. Daniel lost count of all the ways Max fucked him with his fingers, his tongue and his cock. He had fallen unconscious in the middle of Max fucking him on his stomach only to wake up with Max fucking him on his back. Max had to hold him up against the wall of his shower as he fucked his dick into Daniel's red and wet hole because Daniel didn't have enough strength to stand on his shaky legs.

It was late evening before Daniel felt his heat dissipate.

Max had carried Daniel to the guestroom because the bedroom was a mess that needed a deep clean sometime in the future. Daniel let his body sink into the cool sheets, he felt the bed drip as Max laid down next to him.

He knew Max wanted to talk, but that's tomorrow's agenda. Daniel did not have the capacity for an landmine of a conversation where he was gonna have to lie through his teeth about his feelings for Max, and why he chose to fuck Max now. He moved his hand to his still flat stomach, but Daniel knew in four or five months time there would be a bump there. And the baby was going to be beautiful, Daniel was going to love it unconditionally, and he was going to do everything in his power to protect it, to nurture it so that it could face the world with strength and joy.

Max had a life with Kelly and her daughter, and soon there will be a baby Verstappen for Max to finally have the family of his dreams. And Daniel wasn't part of that, would never be part of that. He would be a footnote in Max’s biography, and Daniel was at peace with that.

Daniel would have a baby of his own, a baby that would never know Max Verstappen was his father.

#dr3 fic #my fic #maxiel #maxiel fic #baby fever fic #omegaverse

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drdemonprince · 1 month ago

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I always used to think about like sending authors I liked letters but somehow that felt too personal and weird but I guess messaging you on tumblr from my torture fetish blog is fine yeah. Anyway I just wanted to say I’ve been a fan of your writing for a while and I’ve always found that even if I disagreed with your ideas, they were thought provoking and made me consider new perspectives, which is something I appreciate. I’m also trans and autistic and I finally got my hands on unmasking autism in my local library and really enjoyed it.

I know I’m not exactly the target audience, as I was diagnosed as a child and don’t mask as much as some autistics, but I actually found I resonated a lot with it and it also helped me empathise more with other autistics I know who do have more of these experiences that I don’t share. I wanted to reflect on the fact that despite knowing I was autistic from an early age, I still feel that I have been pressured into hiding and compensating for my autistic and adhd traits (which I was diagnosed with as an adult, you know, because the previous version of the dsm didn’t let you have both), both intentionally through special education and being penalised for these traits and passively through absorbing societal ableism and prejudice.

Masking is definitely something more intentional for me, and I appreciated that you did touch on how for some of us it is necessary to our survival in certain contexts. I’m a nursing student and while I think I still come off as obviously neurodivergent to a lot of people, I do have a work persona that I find I have to put on, and even in the organising space, I feel that I also have to be more considerate of how I’m socialising and how I come across to others.

I helped found and run the disabled and neurodivergent students society at my university and in doing so I’ve come across a lot of autistics, the majority of whom were diagnosed or self realised as adults and have had to go through a process of unmasking. I have unfortunately found that even among these groups, I still feel the need to mask and I am often judged for my authentic autistic self. I do worry that if I totally unmasked I would actually just not be a pleasant person to be around. I’ve lost friends who have seen me have meltdowns, which can be destructive and distressing for people around me, and I think by nature I am quite blunt, stubborn and maybe don’t have a very agreeable personality, which to me is part of my autism, but other autistics around me still see this as a personal flaw of mine.

I’ve even had to leave a local autism organisation as their policies were very exclusionary and they did not want to listen to feedback or make any changes, and this was mostly attended and run by later realised or diagnosed autistics who seemed to have a lot of internalised and lateral ableism. They intentionally excluded people with learning disabilities from the group and would not let people attend with carers as this made others ‘feel less comfortable sharing their thoughts openly in that space’. I guess I just wanted to highlight this because we still have a long way to go as a community to truly accept our unmasked selves and peers and we need a hell of a lot of societal and structural change for people to truly be able to live authentic lives.

I also just wanted to quickly ask, why do you choose to use neurodiverse as opposed to neurodivergent when talking about people who do not fit societal norms? I always thought that neurodiverse included both neurodivergent and neurotypical people and was more about the diversity of populations, whereas neurodivergent specifically refers to people whose minds diverge from the neurotypical standards. Either way, it was a great read and I will for sure be recommending it to others in my community! Thank you for all your work! -S

Hey thanks for the message!

Oh god yeah, newly realized and newly unmasking Autistics can truly be such nightmares to be around in terms of projecting their internalized ableism at every fuckin body, speaking over nonverbal and intellectually disabled people, prioritizing their own concerns, and insisting upon a singular community point of view. I have some complicated feelings about writing The Book that encourages them and speaks directly to them, because I don't think centering the more privileged and therefore dangerous within a heavily marginalized group necessarily benefits anyone else in said group, and can worsen existing power imbalances... but still, I wrote the book that I desperately had needed when I was still figuring this stuff out, and I'm grateful to hear that some of it still resonated with you and was helpful in conveying how others feel.

I also have determined that in a lot of public spaces I pretty much do have to mask, at least by inhibiting myself heavily, and it's really sad and draining, but it is also the experience of the majority of my Autistic siblings in the world. I have unusual ways of moving, emotions do not come easily or consistently to me, I lack empathy, I find most social exchanges pointless or annoying but still want people to care about me, I am impatient and easily flustered and defensive, I have a somewhat controlling codependent bent and a deep fear of abandonment that can turn manipulative and BPD-y, there is a lot of shit about me that I often feel I need to keep on lock. It is alienating especially when I bump against more respectable and emotionally highly sensitive Autistics who wish to connect in a particular way and are disappointed that I can't give them the glimmering positivity that they like. This is worsened by so many of the aforementioned high masking Autistics being white Midwestern woman socialized and incapable of contending with any negativity or even just neutral even handedness. I know how exhausting that shit is to deal with, is what I'm saying, and honestly sometimes it makes me feel some type of way to see my book being so heralded by people of a kind highly likely to socially aggress against someone like me. But ultimately this is all just pattern recognition and I can't really tell.

As for the neurodiverse/vergent usage it's a long story but basically comes down to some editorial feedback I got at a crucial point in the process. For the sequel, Unmasking for Life, I have gone back to occasionally using neurodivergent, though I prefer neuroconformity / nonconformity as a framework for describing things instead these days. It's not a one to one replacement of the term ND, it's more contextual and flexible and I think a hell of a lot more precise

thanks for writing

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