#Admiral Robert April

[giasesshoumaru]

"You let Spock off easy?"

"He just kept us from potentially having to defend two fronts at the same time. Even if he doesn't know it. In any case, he's one of our best. And if this war happens... we're going to need every good officer we've got." - Commodore Tafune and Admiral Robert April about Spock (Star Trek: Strange New Worlds, Episode 1.2)

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

politely requesting if anyone could point me to a gifset of Captain Dad (Christopher Pike) pouring the second drink that he poured for Admiral April and then taking the drink himself

Please

If possible

[fc-adrianholmes]

1 year ago - #OnThisDay in 2022, Adrian was in the 'Star Trek: Strange New Worlds' TV Series. [May, 5 of 2022] He was 'Admiral Robert April' in the episode 1 this week a year ago. He's also in the episode 5. Follow our Tumblr blog: https://fc-adrianholmes.tumblr.com/ Follow us in Facebook: facebook.com/AdrianHolmesDaily Follow us in Telegram: t.me/AdrianHolmesDaily . #AdrianHolmes #AdrianHolmesFans #AdmiralRobertApril #StarTrek #StarTrekStrangeNewWorlds #StarTrekSNW #StrangeNewWorlds #StarTrekSNWSeason1 #StarTrekSNWS01 #BelAir #BelAirParty #BelAir2022 #BelAir2023 #UnclePhil #PhilipBanks #BelAirSeason1 #BelAirSeason2 #19Two #NineteenTwo #NickBarron #FrankiePike #ColdSquad #BenWilson #Arrow #VWars #MichaelFayne

[pixiedane]

Katboberfest 2023 day 6: This is ten percent luck | Twenty percent skill | Fifteen percent concentrated power of will | Five percent pleasure | Fifty percent pain | And a hundred percent reason to remember the name (Enterprise)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Robert April/Katrina Cornwell, Christine Chapel/Spock Characters: Katrina Cornwell, Nyota Uhura, La'an Noonien-Singh, Christine Chapel, Joseph M'Benga, Spock (Star Trek), James T. Kirk, Robert April Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Childhood Trauma, Psychological Trauma, References to Depression, Grief/Mourning, Anxiety, Therapy Series: Part 6 of Katrina Cornwell: Strange New Worlds Summary:

Katrina checks in with her crew.

Group Therapy

[softfem-dom]

mutant file ,, fem oc

name : dolores betelohim nicknames : lola , lolita , dolly , lola dear .

alias : heaven says short form : heaven , heaveny

day of birth : 15th april 19??

height : 5,4

category : mutant (level 4-5)

abbilities : angel morphing , siren song / voice ridden mind-manipulation , dermakinesis , telepathy (weak).

residence : xavier's school for gifted youngsters.

occupation : (apathetic)student

affliction : xmen (occasionally) (since 1998)

state : 𝔞l҉𝔦v҉𝔢?

story

🖇️ early life Dolores was born in a catholic household, under the watch of a caring mother and the hand of a strict yet loving father. As soon as she was old enough to understand the world her she was taught about the love of God, the merciful being above, taken to church every Sunday and with a rosary hanging from her neck.

Pale as a white bunny, with equal curiosity for everything around her, and with eyes as blue as the sky. Her dark, almost coal-y, brunette hair only adding to the purity that seemed to coat her very being.

However, that purity didn't get a chance to last too long. When the priest from the church spotted her, looking like the ethereal esence of a divine being, he revealed himself to not be as kind as everyone had been fooled to believe.

He was part of an organization, an illegal project. To create angels on earth and, by false visual, force the christianism over the rest of religions by existent 'proof' of divine beings.

So, that fateful Sunday after church, she didn't get a chance to go back home. Snatched away with a cloth over her mouth, only to awake in some kind of rusty and old room surrounded by sharp medical props and colorful and strange vials on creaky shelfs.

She was experimented on. Mutated. To grow wings and have the melodic voice of the angels above. Completely stripped off of her own humanity to fake her into a 'divine' being to be worshipped. Surrounded by equal hate and disgust as admiration and amazement. just a prop to a cult.

🖇 xavier's school for gifted youngsters

After years of being trapped within the same walls, being forced to perform like some circus act. After years of being aressed as a divinity yet treated like a lab rat. One fateful days the alarms inside the facility went off, commotion being heard out in the halls, the armored door of her 'room' hiding her away from everything.

Then was when she met Charles Xavier and his team. She would've been scared of the blue man suddenly appearing inside of her room, with a 'poof' and a cloud of smoke, if it weren't for the cross pendant hanging from his neck. Christians were good samaritans, she tried to convince herself.

It turned out, at least that Christian was indeed a good samaritan. Offering her his hand and taking her away from it all, not caring about the wings growing from her back nor the blue in her eyes. She was for once being treated like a human being instead of like a divine being in need to be worshipped yet hidden away.

After that, she met the rest of the team; ororo, jean, charles, scott and kurt —the one who saved her. And found her home in Xavier's school for Gifted Youngsters. She was still seen as an angel within those walls. Yet not for the white wings, nor for the pure blue in her eyes, nor for the pale and perfect of her skin, nor from the melody in her voice, but for her smile and kind heart.

After she started to live out in the open, taking classes like any normal teen and playing outside, it soon became obvious the way her body rejected the necessary nutrients for growing —due to the poor conditions of the lab— and she ended up developing anemia, low iron levels.

Sooner than later, though, new people joined the team. Remy LeBeau aka Gambit, Anna Marie aka Rogue, Piotr "Peter" Nikolaievitch Rasputin aka Colossus, Robert Louis "Bobby" Drake aka Ice-Man, Katherine Anne "Kitty" Pryde aka Shadowcat and Logan Howlett aka Wolverine with whom she'll end up growing closer than she expected. A total contrast to see the dictionary definition of purity and religiousness attached to the hip of the sarcastic and dry-humoured man that was atheist to the damn bone.

🖇character analysis :

dear lola is an optimistic and soft girl, she is deemed extremely chill for her age —y'know puberty and all—. She seems to lack teenager hormones with how calm she is.

despite her past in a laboratory, and all the cultist stuff, she remains catholic and firm to the belief that there is a God up there that will always be there for her in the good and the bad. That's probably one of the reasons she is so close to Kurt, since they share religion and equal passion about it.

She will talk about her religion to anyone who asks or shows interest, even if she knows most people —especially teens— in the school don't give two shits if there is someone above due to their ansty teen rebellion phase she'll remain loyal in her beliefs.

She spends most of her time in the garden, the part with the tallest trees. She likes to climb the trees and spend her hours drawing or reading on the branches.

It's suspected that her calmness and relaxed nature is due to her very low iron, that has her with much less social battery and energy than people her age. She's not allergic to social interaction, but she prefers time alone or time shared in silence.

She's a very loving individual, surprisingly palyful and full of mischief. She loves helping the other teens plot schemes and pranks on the teachers —especially Scott and Logan—.

Everyone believes that the 'angel' part of her are just the white wings in her back, the ones she's always dragging on the floor because they weight quite a lot despite their feather-y appearance. But, in reality, the whole implanted 'divine' part of her is such a monstruous form that she'll never let anyone see it. The fact that she can turn in such a monstruous creature keeps her awake at night sometimes, seeing the reflection of something antromorphic and disgusting in the mirror whenever she looks at it.

Her first encounter with Logan aka the Wolverine wasn't a very pleasant one. He had been living in the school for only two or three days when he stumbled upon the sight of a supposed big bird in the branch of a tree, he wasn't thinking straight when he grabbed a small rock and threw it at the 'animal' —believing it to be something dangerous to the kids in the school—. Only to be met by the sight of a female face turning to him with wide eyes and a heavily offended expression after the loud 'thwack!' of the rock hit her in the back of her head.

She crawled up to the branches of the tree until the green leafs hid her from him and didn't come back down until it was Storm the one calling her from under the tree.

Needless to say Logan was ashamed as fuck after realizing he had threw a rock at a random kid.

After a bit of time and a cookie offering —suggested by Jean— the two of them started to get closer. With Logan freaking the fuck out the first time Lola got up too fast and fell right to the floor, damn low iron.

Despite the two of them being the total ephytomy of opposites, Logan still put up with the religious kid even while being atheist himself. He couldn't give two shits about the 'supposedly' God up in the sky —how would that even work anyways? some huge dude in the sky?—, but he never dismissed her as he never dismissed Kurt even if the two of them paired up were a total pain in the ass.

[mirioho]

💼 Reyu Carrera- Intro & Profile

Character Info:

Reyu grew up in the bustling city of New York,  specifically in Jackson Heights, alongside her younger sister Mila. They were raised by their working parents that eventually got divorced shortly after Reyu turned 7 years old. Having witnessed and overheard the many fights and discussions between her parents, Reyu knew this was the best choice, but it still stung. However, it would only hurt more when her father stopped taking her to her ballet classes and didn’t show up to her recitals anymore. Slowly but surely he distanced himself from them all until he completely gave up his parental rights, wanting nothing to do with either her or Mila.

Left with only her working single mother to raise her and her sister, Reyu took it upon herself to lessen any burden she could for her mother. Stepping up as a reliable older sister to Mila and a responsible daughter for her mother. And Reyu’s mother would be undeterred by her ex-husband’s lack of involvement, she was a strong woman and she would see to it that Reyu and Mila understood that they were both loved by her and she would do her best to shape them into independent and strong young ladies herself.

Reyu greatly admired her mother, and though there was still an ache in her heart, she did her best to be strong, moreso for her mother’s and Mila’s sake. Reyu could tell how tiring it could be for her mother, having to provide for the three of them on her own, having to work double jobs, having to do long hours, just to keep moving forward. It’s why Reyu did her best to do her part and work hard in school, to make sure she had top grades her mother could be proud of, to earn rewards and certificates and to participate in activities and extracurriculars that would show her mother that her efforts weren’t in vain. She also would take care of Mila, going to school with her, making her lunch and even dinner, helping her with homework, and being an older sister she could be proud of. Reyu didn’t want to become a burden to her mother, she couldn’t. She couldn’t crumble in front of Mila who needed her. So she had to be someone worth sacrificing so much for.  She had to be someone worth looking up to. There was no time to dawdle and wish things could be different, the reality was she needed to put in the effort to get what she wants and be who she wants.

After discarding her ballet shoes long ago, and tossing aside a dream of becoming a ballerina, Reyu has the goal of becoming an affluent and well-established Family Lawyer. A goal she pursues by looking up qualifications she’ll need and doing her best to prepare herself for law school, maintaining her GPA, making connections, doing research, joining her school’s debate team, and even earning herself an internship for a law firm.

But she never does make it to her internship, instead, she finds herself inside a coffin, lost in a completely different world that seems like something out of a dream she’d never believe.

Basic Info:

Name: Reyu Carerra Age: 17 Gender: Female Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Bisexual Birthday: April 27 Height: 172 cm Class: 1-A Dorm: Ramshackle Homeland: New York Club: Board Game Club Best Subject: Mathematics Dominant Hand: Right Favorite Food: Dosas Least Favorite Food: Shrimp (Allergic) Twisted From: Robert Philip (Enchanted) Hobbies: Writing, Bullet Journaling, Scrapbooking Likes: Reading, Watching Legal Dramas, Soap Operas (Secretly), History, Coffee, Stationery, Poetry, Magic Tricks, Trying New Food, Flying, Candles, Chess, Museums Dislikes: Cleaning, Rats, Cockroaches, Blind Optimism, Failing, Danger, Being a Burden, Dancing (So she says), Vanity, Playboys

Personality:

Reyu is, of course, hardworking when it comes to her studies and is often reading one thing or another, always expanding her knowledge although she would already be considered intelligent, she knows learning doesn’t have an end point. 

She can be quick-witted as well, having grown up in the city, her mind is constantly on the go and ready to react to one situation or another. Though, being in Twisted Wonderland, even she finds herself taken aback and dumbfounded at the things that occur. Still, she strives to remain practical and calm when she can.

Reyu does her best to be kind and polite when necessary but will often be prone to sarcasm and snarkiness, especially when a situation or person is ridiculous to her.

She tries to be realistic about every situation as much as possible, and thus doesn't try to delude herself with fairytales or anything close to it. Has a hard time dealing with overly optimistic people, not understanding the ability to essentially remain blind to what she considers to be the truth.

But, she’s still a helpful and caring person underneath, and she’s very forthcoming about following her personal principles. Some which include being honest and remaining pragmatic, helping those who she considers helpless, always accepting the consequences of your actions, and always follow through on a promise.

Overall, Reyu is a self-reliant, sometimes strict, yet responsible, protective and trustworthy person.

Relationships:

Extra:

Since living in Ramshackle, she's been getting into DIY due to all the fixing up she's been doing to the place.

Works shifts at the Mostro Lounge for the extra money.

Her favorite flowers are Angel's Trumpets.

Her younger sister Mila, is 3 years younger than her.

Likes horror movies and novels. Can't consume either before bed or else she'll stay up all night.

Prefers tea over coffee but finds coffee to be more useful in waking her up in the mornings.

Despite not liking or believing in fairytales, would read her younger sister any fairytale book she wanted before bed.

Her favorite animal is a great horned owl.

Despite being allergic to shrimp, has a guilty pleasure for shrimp cocktails.

Has a phobia of ventriloquist dummies after watching a horror movie about them when she was younger.

She likes to write poetry sometimes but doesn't think it's any good, it's moreso an outlet for her emotions.

When she'd still attend her ballet classes and recitals, she'd unconsciously always look if her father was in attendance.

Reyu gave up on her dream of being a ballerina early on when she realized it likely wouldn't bring in the money she felt was necessary to ease her mother's financial burden.

References:

Notes:

Reyu's dorm outfit was based on Robert's prince outfit at the end of Enchanted with a mix of the Ramshackle colors and style. The long jacket was made to a short, blazer like style to fit in more with a business suit type vibe for Reyu who wants to be taken seriously.

Her coffin icon contains a briefcase that has a similar keyhole to the ones in the gacha of the game. Colors used were mostly taken from Grim's coffin icon.

credit to @/ai-kan1 for templates, @/alchemivich for coffin icon base and kalim sprites and to @/twtysevapr for chibi base

[yoannlossel]

Soon, I will share with you the illustrations I created for American Gods. This work, the result of four years of research and artistic effort, reflects my vision of this rich and complex universe.

However, this project is overshadowed by the serious allegations made against Neil Gaiman. I had great respect for him, both for his work and his commitments. His position as a defender of victims of sexual violence and his support for these causes earned him particular respect. It is therefore all the more difficult for me to reconcile this admiration with the testimonies that have emerged about him.

I intend to share these illustrations with you, as they are the result of my own artistic work. This project, which blends contemporary America with the myths that shape it, inspired me to create a true visual journey through the history of fantastic art. I wanted to pay tribute to the legacy of tales, legends, and folklore while traversing the history of fantastic painting, reaching all the way to the works that have shaped American culture more recently.

I have explored various styles, evoked different emotions, and used a variety of techniques to create a diverse range of representations. Among my illustrations, you will find references and tributes to great names in art, such as Pieter Bruegel the Elder, Arnold Böcklin, Edward Robert Hughes, Gustave Doré, Grant Wood, Edward Hopper, Zdzisław Beksiński, Alfons Mucha, Vincent Van Gogh, and Ferdinand Keller.

This project, which is as much a journey through the history of fantastic art as it is a journey into contemporary myths, represents my personal visual interpretation of American Gods, while remaining deeply rooted in my own values as an artist.

Finally, both American Gods and the current situation remind us of the importance of questioning our relationships with idols and heroes. This lesson is more relevant than ever.

Photograph taken on April 14, 2024.

[casualclassical]

The Schumann Ballade

Chopin’s second Ballade is less well-known than his first and has often been criticized as “less ingenious”. I can see where this sentiment is coming from because I too prefer Chopin’s Ballade No. 1, but I find his Ballade No. 2 – which I fondly call the “Schumann Ballade” – to be a hidden gem.

The story behind this Ballade goes that it was dedicated to “Mr Robert Schumann” in 1840 after Chopin and Schumann met for the second time in 1836. Schumann had dedicated his Kreisleriana Op. 16 “To my friend, Mr F. Chopin” in 1838. The subtle but evident difference in these dedications expresses the relationship the two composers had with each other: while Schumann greatly admired Chopin, Chopin viewed Schumann with complete indifference.

Despite Chopin’s indifference towards Schumann, and the fact that Chopin only met Schumann twice, I can’t help but marvel at how accurately Chopin expressed Schumann’s personality and composing style in the Ballade No. 2. Both the Ballade and its dedicatee can really be described as “bipolar” – calm and tranquil musical motifs alternate with fervent and frenzied ones. Robert Schumann’s varied, often experimental music expresses his tumultuous character, and Fryderyk Chopin, with his Ballade No. 2, captures Schumann’s essence in his own trademark style.

Overall I feel that Chopin really “got” Schumann with the Ballade No. 2, which amazes me because Chopin only met Schumann twice and was indifferent to Schumann as a composer and person. Perhaps Chopin liked Schumann more than he realized, or perhaps Chopin’s ability to create such an accurate portrait of a man after meeting him only twice is a testament to his genius as a composer. Either way, the “Schumann Ballade” will always have a special place in my heart as a hidden gem, a rare but beautiful intersection between the lives of two very different Romantic composers.

Originally posted April 20, 2019 on WordPress

[indeedcaptain]

Regulatory Relations, Chapter 22: The Captain

Holy fucking shitballs, yall. This is the end.

Posted on my AO3 here.

All I really have to say after this is thank you.

☆☆☆

Dear Mom and Dad, 

Dear Winona and George, 

Guess what!

Hi, 

[Are you sure you want to close the program? Your content will not be saved. YES / NO] 

☆☆☆

On the first day after the trial, Kirk took ShiKahr’s public transit from Amanda and Sarek’s house through the city center, and out the other side. Alone on the train as it flew along its magnetic track, he watched out the window as the now-familiar sandstone buildings whirled by. They passed the judicial complex where he had spent the entire previous day: he had walked in a suspect and walked out a free man. It rose up before him, sprawling and imposing, passed in an instant, and then vanished. Kirk turned forward again, letting the rest of the city pass him by, and waited for his stop.

The Vulcan Science Academy complex was housed on the outskirts of ShiKahr, built without formal boundaries to account for its near-constant expansion. It crept further and further out into the Forge— the buildings nearest the public entrance were the oldest, their corners sandblasted into curves by the desert wind, but the newest ones, built to house new advances in technology and new fields of research, were still sharp-edged and angular. The hospital was one of the oldest buildings in the complex--- one of the oldest buildings in the city, according to the lecture Spock gave Kirk and Bones that morning over breakfast. It had originally been a temple, housing healers in the millenia before Surak, a holdover from Vulcan’s war-torn history. Even after the wars had ended, the people who lived on the planet needed care, and so the temple of healers remained, now known as one of the most advanced teaching hospitals in the galaxy. 

Kirk gave his name at the front desk, which was manned by a young Vulcan woman wearing scrubs and a student badge, and was granted entrance. He rode a swift and silent elevator up to the eighth floor and stepped out into a warmly lit hall. Enormous windows at either end of the hallway and the recessed light bulbs set into the ceiling gave the impression of midday sun, despite the early hour. He heard voices coming from the left side, and so he turned that way. 

Around another corner he found two Vulcan doctors and a third human one, deep in conversation next to a bench and a variety of potted cacti. The human doctor, with graying red hair and a petite build, turned to him as he approached and said, “I thought you might come by.” Sarah April nodded to the other doctors before she gestured in front of her, and Kirk fell into step beside her. She led him deeper into the labyrinthine building--- the layout designed before the Vulcan preoccupation with logic--- and eventually stopped next to a closed door with a Vulcan sign appended to the front, a phonetic translation of April’s name. She smiled with sad eyes and said, “I’ll be outside if you need anything.” 

Kirk nodded, and opened the door. 

Admiral Robert April lay quietly in a biobed, surrounded by beeping machines and sensors. His head had been shaved, electrodes stuck to his scalp in a neat grid, and his dark skin was sallow under the lights. For a moment Kirk stood in the doorway, unwilling to wake him if he was resting, but then April rolled his head on the pillow to look at him. 

“Enter,” he said, and Kirk did. There was a chair tucked into the corner with a blanket folded over the back of it. Kirk dragged it next to the bed and sat. The whites of April’s eyes were yellowed with exhaustion. Kirk looked at him; the man who had set everything in motion. How much of his behavior was Elise pulling the strings? How much was April unleashed? 

“What do you want, Kirk?” April’s voice was tired, dry, almost a whisper. Kirk had had grand plans--- he had rehearsed what he wanted to say on the train ride there. He had told Spock where he was going and what he wanted to do, and Spock had sent him off with a kiss and a promise to see him later. But his words failed when he looked at the battered body of the man he had thought was his enemy. 

He still saw the phaser fire before it tore through Spock when he looked at April. He saw himself on his knees in the gritty dust of Kindinos, and saw the sniper with the plasma rifle settling her sights on both of them. But he also saw the blinking brutality of the neutralizer and April’s muffled screams beneath it. He saw April, months ago, trying to pull Spock to safety with a promotion to a science ship far from him. He saw April fighting that hidden programming to allow him and his crew to leave the 31 ship with Elise in tow. 

Elise would have hated what he was about to do--- she never could have understood it. Maybe that was why he had to say it. 

“Thank you,” Kirk said. “For what you tried to do for Spock.” April rolled his head away from Kirk, looking up at the ceiling, and scoffed tiredly. 

“For all the good it did, in the end.” 

Kirk shifted to the edge of his chair. He had expected defensiveness, or the silent treatment; not this bone-deep resignation. “For all the good it did? Admiral, if you hadn’t forced the issue, you would still be stuck on that ship and that woman would still be running Section 31.” April looked back at him. “Spock and I only put together all the pieces after we had to start talking about marriage and bonding, and we only did that because you were going to take him away otherwise.” Kirk considered April’s shaved head, the scattering of machines and their symphony of beeping and whirring. He could have left then, his mission accomplished. But something in April’s haggard face told him that the other man was lost.

“I’m sorry that she did this to you,” Kirk said recklessly. “And I’m sorry for putting you here.” April shook his head shallowly. 

“I knew…” he said slowly. “I knew that the charges were a sham. I knew they wouldn’t stick. This was what I wanted.” His voice dragged, like he was having a hard time connecting his mind to his mouth. “You can go, Kirk.” 

Kirk didn’t move. “What are you going to do next?” 

“Resign,” April said. “Retire.” 

“That’s it? You’re going to give up?” The volume of his voice rose involuntarily. April’s eyes flashed to him--- the first movement that matched the vigor that Kirk had come to expect from him. 

“What would you have me do? Weasel back into a desk job after I defiled everything Starfleet stands for?”

“And how much of that was voluntary, Admiral? How much of working for 31 was voluntary at all?” 

In a blink, the fight melted back out of him. April looked away from him. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know anymore.” 

Kirk leaned back in his chair, and for a moment they sat in silence, the only sound the beeping of the machinery. Then Kirk said, “Can I be honest with you?” 

“I doubt anyone could stop you from doing so.” 

“I don’t think it matters anymore, whether or not you know if it was voluntary,” Kirk said. “Enough of it wasn’t, and then you fought it. What matters now is what you’re going to do about it.” 

April raised one hand weakly and gestured at the hospital room around him. “And what am I going to do about it?”

“Fix it,” Kirk said. “Find a way to talk about what you can’t talk about, and then help fix it.”  When April finally looked at him again, there was a spark of life in his eyes: there was hope, a desperate hope, and the yawning cavern of an isolation that Kirk could only begin to understand. 

“How?”

Kirk shifted his chair closer again. “Listen,” he said. “On Vulcan, what she did to us is called nekwitaya …” 

Their situations were different, of course; the sheer volume of scarring in April’s brain was going to require a lot more hands-on medical care than Kirk had needed. But there was no better place for April to recover than on Vulcan, where a planet of telepaths and scientists understood the gravity of what had been done to him. Here, though there was no undoing what had been done, April stood a chance of healing from it. 

When Kirk left, Sarah April was sitting outside the room, reading on her padd. She stood as he exited, concern pulling her eyebrows together and deepening the creases in her face. Kirk sent her Dr. Rowan McIntire’s contact information, and then he went home. 

☆☆☆

The rest of that day was spent on logistics and organization. Kirk and Spock’s bonding would have none of the violence and circumstance of Spock and T’Pring’s koon-ut-kal-if-fee . They were not children, and there would be no challenge: they needed only their consent and a telepath to perform the bonding. Kirk was vaguely disconcerted by the sheer number of details that went into what was, in effect, a simple backyard wedding ceremony, and made a note to give Janice a commendation for coordinating both their engagement party and their first wedding with seventy-two hours’ notice. 

Despite the fervent and genuine invitation that Kirk had extended, Neera Ketoul excused herself from the bonding festivities after he returned from his visit to April. “I do have other clients to attend to, Captain Kirk,” she said, but she shook his hand warmly when he walked her to the aircar that would return her to the transport hub and away. 

“If there’s ever anything that we can do for you, just say the word,” Kirk said. “We could not have done this without you.” 

“Maybe not,” she agreed, with her hand on the door of the aircar. She considered him, her dark eyes and skin shining under the hot Vulcan sun. “My people are not part of the Federation,” she said. “There is a lot of mistrust on both sides, perhaps too much to overcome. But men like you make me think that someday it could be.” 

Later that night, as Bones washed and dried the dishes from dinner, Amanda reached out to the clan to request the services of a healer to perform the bonding, and Spock convinced a local restaurant to cater enough food for at least twenty people on such short notice, Kirk received a high-priority message on his padd from Starfleet HQ. 

Dear Captain Kirk, 

Congratulations! Though, naturally, the details of your court-martial are classified, I’ve received a new set of orders that make me think I can guess how it went. I’ve been called to Vulcan immediately to assist with [THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN REDACTED]. 

My formal title might be regulations administrator, but not many know that this role includes enforcement, compliance, and oversight, as needed. I think I’m going to have a lot to do over the next few months. 

I’ve been asked to assemble a team for it, which is why I’m reaching out today--- it’s a bit irregular, but if you’re willing to sign off on the transfer and if she agrees, I’d like to request Yeoman Janice Rand for it. She’s got an unparalleled grasp of how and why regulation works in practice, and I could use a mind like hers for what we’re trying to do. 

Let me know what you think, and what she thinks. 

My best to you and the commander. :)

LC Kathleen Lee

Kirk read the message twice before carrying it to Spock, claiming the open seat next to him at the island in the kitchen. Spock scanned it and said, handing it back, “If Yeoman Rand takes this post, I do not believe we will see her again in any short amount of time.” Bones turned to them curiously, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. He cocked an eyebrow up. 

“Oh, I think we’ll see her again,” Kirk said. “It’ll just be when she’s running for president of the Federation.” 

☆☆☆

On the second day after the trial, the morning of his and Spock’s bonding ceremony, Kirk sat undressed on the end of their bed and stared at the empty text block on his padd screen. 

Dear Mom and Dad, I’m getting married today, again. 

I’m Vulcan-bonding with my first officer today. 

Did you go to Sam and Aurelan’s wedding? Would you want to come to mine?

Spock stepped out of the bathroom, barefoot and in an untied robe, and sat down next to him to look at what he was working on. Kirk closed the program and tossed the padd on the bed behind him before leaning into Spock. He was warm and fresh from the sonic, olive and bronzed from months on Vulcan. 

“Do you wish your parents were attending?” Spock’s voice was gentle. 

“Not enough to have written them about it earlier,” Kirk said, and when Spock leaned over him, one long hand against his sternum, he let Spock push him backwards onto the bed. “There’s so much to fix before we’d even get to that point.” 

Spock’s lips brushed the skin behind his ear, down his neck, across one collarbone. “At our current rate, we will have another wedding in approximately eighteen months. You can reevaluate at that point.” Kirk laughed, and Spock’s hand skimmed down his arm, flipping their hands to be palm-to-palm and pressing his down into the mattress. 

“I thought you were tired of parties,” Kirk teased. Spock nipped at him. 

“I have been convinced of their utility,” he said, and slid his hands under Kirk’s hips in a clear attempt to distract him further. His efforts were successful.

The survivors arrived at the house just as the sun was beginning its graceful descent towards the mountains on the horizon beyond the Forge. Kevin wore his dress uniform, but the others were in civilian attire: Ellie and Tommy in near-matching black suits, much to Mira’s delight, and Martha in a dress. Mira wore a hot pink one-piece garment that Kirk couldn’t have named if he had tried, but he watched with a grin as Ellie teased her dryly about having brought party clothes to a court-martial (“We were only coming to testify!”) and Mira defended herself (“Wasn’t I right, though?”).

Bones also wore his uniform. He sidled up to Kirk as they greeted the survivors at the front gate, Vulcan’s closest approximation to a mint julep in hand. 

“Seems to me like you’re starting to wrap things up here, Jim,” he said. “You’ve got more time. No need to rush back into things.” 

Kirk glanced sidelong at him as his friends passed by, led by Amanda towards the garden where the bonding would take place. “I think I’ve had enough time away,” he said. “I don’t want to sit still any longer.” 

Bones’s eyes were shrewd. “But you did sit still for at least a little bit, right?” Down the road a pair of figures began to materialize out of the heat shimmering off the pavement: a round human figure with a short dark thatch of hair, and a bear-sized lump of white and brown. 

“I did,” Kirk said, and watched as the two abstract shapes slowly became Rowan and Suk’han as they approached. “Actually, this is someone I’d like you to meet.” Rowan wore her everyday professional attire that Kirk had come to recognize, but she had woven cactus blossoms into a crown and placed it jauntily over Suk’han’s ears. 

“You’re looking well, Jim,” Rowan said, and smiled approvingly. He grinned and shrugged back at her before turning to Bones. 

“Rowan, this is my chief medical officer, Bones. Leonard McCoy, this is Rowan McIntire. She, ah… she’s the new therapist.”

“Oh?” Bones extended his hand, turning completely towards her to get a better look. 

“The famous Dr. McCoy!” Rowan shook his hand and accepted his inspection. “Tell me, how do you get Bones from Leonard?” As they clasped hands, some sort of mysterious medical understanding passed between them; when Bones smiled back at her, it was genuine. 

“You ask him politely, ma’am,” Bones said, and Rowan laughed wickedly. Suk’han, apparently tired of not being the center of Kirk’s attention, pushed her head against his sternum and leaned a portion of her significant mass against him. 

“Hello to you too,” he murmured, and passed his hands through the thick fur at the base of her neck. She nuzzled him sweetly, and for a moment, abandoning his pretexts at dignity, he threw his arms around her neck entirely. Then he released her, left Bones and Rowan to get to know each other, and went to find his husband. 

The senior staff of the Enterprise were next to arrive. In small groups they beamed down outside the garden gates: Sulu, Chekov, and Pike, then Uhura, Chapel, Janice, and Priyal Khan at Spock’s invitation, and then Sal Giotto and Scotty. Uhura’s feet had no sooner settled into the sand before she was moving, throwing her arms around Spock and Kirk. Spock’s hand came up to stroke affectionately over the back of her hair, but Kirk couldn’t help himself: he picked her up and swung her in a circle as her laughter rang out. There were embraces and back slaps and handshakes all around from his friends; they accepted him back into their ranks as if he had never left.

“God, it’s good to see you all,” he said, grinning so hard his cheeks ached. He squatted next to Chris’s chair to hear him better over the hubbub. His crew mingled in the garden among the cacti and shrubbery with Spock’s parents, Rowan, and the Tarsus survivors. Amanda and Rowan talked quietly by the table of beverages, and something Rowan said made Amanda’s quiet laugh burble through the garden. Suk’han was ecstatic on her back as Mira, Uhura, and Chapel cooed over her spots and rubbed her belly. “How have things been?”

“Surprisingly quiet,” Chris said. “Seems as though you’re the magnet for most of the trouble that the Enterprise gets in.” 

“Hey, now,” Kirk complained, and his eyes found Spock across the way, dark and handsome in the goldenrod light of dusk. “Spock was gone too. Maybe he’s the magnet.” 

“You just keep telling yourself that, son,” Chris laughed. “Maybe someday you’ll convince someone else.” He navigated his hoverchair carefully around Amanda’s plants to talk to Spock, and Kirk basked in the presence of so many of his loved ones. As he stood alone, looking over the assembled, something painful twinged in his heart. Sam should have been here. After so many wounds had been healed and problems solved, part of Kirk thought that Sam and his ridiculous mustache should have emerged, laughing and whole, from behind some curtain. It didn’t seem fair that, after everything, Sam and Aurelan were still dead.

He took a sip of his drink and tilted his head back, letting the last of the day’s sunlight wash over him. I miss you, he thought fervently. I wish you were here for all this. He pictured Sam as he remembered him: throwing open the door to his hospital room, skipping classes with him after his return to school, showing him around the Academy campus when he first arrived, the holos of him holding baby Peter after he was born. He held the ache in his chest with both hands, letting himself miss Sam, before he opened his eyes again. The ache didn’t go away, but it took up a safe and manageable residence in his heart next to everything else. Then he exhaled and rejoined his friends.

Kirk was turned away from the garden entrance, talking to Scotty and Giotto, and so he didn’t see her when she arrived. He only heard the sudden hush that fell over those gathered, and in the silence, he turned. 

T’Pau swept towards him through the garden, the edges of her robes disturbing the sand in tornado-like swirls. It seemed like even the insects and the night-birds had fallen quiet in her presence. Kirk raised the ta’al and glanced quickly at Spock. 

“Elder T’Pau,” he said. “What can I do for you?” He felt, more than saw, Spock wind his way through the crowd and materialize at his side. T’Pau considered him, the half-light casting the wrinkles of her face in sharp contrast. 

“ S’chn T’gai James Kirk,” she said finally. “Thee and Spock are to be bonded.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. She nodded once. Her eyes glinted in the fading light, no less shrewd for her age. 

“Thee has done Vulcan a service,” she said. She raised one hand, her robes collapsing down around her elbow. “If thee will give thy mind, I will bond thee.” Spock’s shoulders settled back in surprise as he clasped his hands behind his back, and Amanda’s eyebrows shot upwards before she reined her facial expression back into a warm neutrality. 

“It would be an honor,” Kirk said, when he found his voice. Spock shifted closer to him, their shoulders brushing, and they both sank to their knees under T’Pau’s titanium gaze. Their family, their friends, formed a loose circle around them and the leader of their clan as T’Pau raised both hands. 

“I will bond thee in the way of our people,” T’Pau said, her voice sonorous in the desert evening. “What thee will witness comes down from the time of the beginning without change. This is the Vulcan heart. This is the Vulcan soul. This is our way. Kah-if-farr! ”

She lowered her hands, and for a second, before she put her fingers on Kirk’s face, she waited. Kirk closed his eyes and nodded. With that consent, she placed her fingers on his psi-points, and the world around him vanished. 

It was dark in the meld. T’Pau’s mind was vast and echoing around him. He could feel the enormity of her intellect, her age, the reverberating katric energy that she carried. He felt very small. He was a speck in the darkness, one single star in the galaxy, and he felt the scrunity when that gargantuan mind came to focus on him. 

James Kirk , T’Pau said. This is the Vulcan way. Thee gives thy mind willingly to another?

There was a tiny part of him, ancient and wounded, that longed to flinch, if only out of habit. But he had not spent the past four months excavating his heart to give in to that habit now. I give it to Spock , Kirk said, or thought. He felt the rumble of her approval rattle the world around him. 

Speak our words, she told him. I would bond with thee, ever and always touching and touched . 

Kirk repeated them back, stumbling at first but then growing in strength: I would bond with thee, ever and always touching and touched. He said them again and again until he could feel his heart beating in time with its rhythm. He heard the echoes of hundreds of thousands of bonded pairs singing with him in T’Pau’s ancestral memory. He repeated them until he could feel himself vibrating with it; he glowed with his conviction. This was for Spock, this was for his best friend and his husband, the man who had walked into hell for him and carried him out--- this was what Kirk wanted to give to him. 

Then, in the darkness --- there was light. A golden sun erupted into flames on the far horizon of T’Pau’s mind. It soared from an impossible distance towards him, trailing a burning thread like a meteor shower behind it, before falling towards him. Kirk held out both hands and caught the tiny star in his palms. It burned. It loved him. It unspooled into thread and formed a glimmering road from his hands to some indescribable point in the dark void beyond, stretching on forever. He felt T’Pau’s sudden and fierce curiosity, so like Spock’s, and the roaring approval of those who had come before him as it lit the way forward. 

This is the Vulcan heart , T’Pau said. Her voice was as stoic as ever, but beneath it, reverberating through the meld-space, he could hear something that was almost surprise. Guidance is unnecessary for thee now. Follow the bond. There was an enormous shifting around him as T’Pau closed parts of her mind off to him; it was suddenly quieter than he had ever experienced. There was only his mind, and his thrumming heartbeat, and the golden burning string that pulled him forward. Follow the bond, James Kirk, T’Pau said. 

Kirk took a fumbling step forward in the darkness, feet falling unsteadily towards the invisible floor under him. Then another. Then another. The string pulled him forward, steadying him, anchoring him. He knew where he was going now. At the far end of the road before him was Spock, his ecstatic curiosity and his secret kindness and the beautiful mind that he had offered to Kirk without reservation. 

Kirk wrapped both hands in the nascent bond before him and took off running. 

Ever and always, ever and always, ever and always . 

The bond grew hotter and hotter in his hands, glowing brighter until it had all but banished the inky void around him. He had been wrong about the color--- it was gold, but it wasn’t only gold. It was the silver of the Enterprise , and the burgundy of Spock’s old quarters. It was the cream and green and gold of wedding streamers, and the blue of a science tunic. It was the umber of Vulcan sand and the black of uniform trousers and the yellow of an Iowa cornfield and the teal of a Tarsus sky. It was everything that was both of them, and it burned in his hands. 

The sense of T’Pau was fading, that ancient intellect melting away. It was replaced instead by the insistent surety that Spock was near, that he was following the same path from the other side. The sense of him grew with every step as the bond glowed white-hot until it was too hot to hold. Even when he dropped it Kirk could feel it in and around him. 

He was in the center of a star, and it flared around him. He was going to burn with it. It was all-encompassing, inescapable, incomprehensible. 

I would bond with thee, he said to the star. Ever and always touching and touched. 

Spock said, I would bond with thee, and his voice was everywhere. Ever and always touching and touched . Spock’s mind was everywhere, and Kirk dissolved in it. He settled entirely into Spock’s hands as Spock spun around him. 

My Jim , Spock said, nearly purring with satisfaction. They tangled in each other.

K’diwa , Kirk said. In the meld there was no hiding his delight. Honey! Spock’s mind curled around his, and Kirk threw his arms open to accept it. He had not known before how literal the translation ‘meld’ was for what he felt: there was no separating them now as they spun around each other, a binary star system, a hurricane, inextricably entwined. He had feared this intimacy so entirely when they had first married, pushing Spock away to prevent the opportunity from ever arising. But none of that fear remained. There was no part of himself that he wouldn’t trust Spock to see and hold. They swung around each other as the star of the nascent bond burned. It slowly consolidated, condensing down from uncontrollable flame into something more like a bridge. It refracted into every color Kirk had ever seen before it settled into a solid arc from his mind to Spock’s. It glowed. 

Spock pressed on it, and it reverberated. Kirk laughed as he felt it vibrate through him, rumbling his bones, lighting up his mind. 

Bondmates , Kirk said. 

Telsu , Spock said. His voice was steady, but there was no hiding his emotion in the bond: it sang with his pleasure. Slowly Kirk became aware of his body again, as well as his mind and the bond. He remembered that there was a world outside of their minds, T’Pau and Spock’s parents and their friends, and he felt Spock’s amusement at his chagrin. 

We will have time, ashayam , Spock said, and in the swirling abyss of the meld Kirk felt his arms come around him. With the bond glowing like a meteor shower between them, he carried them back to the world. 

Kirk’s eyes opened. T’Pau pulled her hands from his and Spock’s faces, shaking her robes back down over her wrists. 

“Thee are bonded,” she declared without preamble, and she only blinked once as the unruly humans around her whooped and hollered. She caught Kirk’s eyes, looking down on him from where he still knelt in the sand, and she nodded. They were now even, he thought, and somehow he was certain that he and Spock would be welcomed back to Vulcan whenever they chose to return. He turned to Spock, a wide smile splitting his face, and Spock pulled him to his feet. The touch of his hands seared through him. By the time he had turned back to T’Pau to thank her, she was already halfway across the garden, a black-robed mass vanishing into the dark. He watched her go until a pulsing warmth in the back of his head pulled his attention back to the garden. Spock watched him, outwardly stoic, but Kirk could feel him through the bond: a subtle and curious joy that he knew didn’t belong to him. The sun had set while they were in the meld, and in the evening twilight Spock glowed in his vision with some invisible, intangible psychic energy.

He held two fingers out, and Spock met him in the ozh’esta. His eyes widened as their hands met and that energy arced between their hands, flashing up his arm and making his hair stand on end. Spock’s amusement and the dark heat of a promise for later in the evening soaked into his mind. 

“I get it now,” he breathed. For a moment the heat overwhelmed him; he only wanted to drag Spock back to the guesthouse and make love to him while the new bridge sang between their minds. But their friends were here to celebrate them; they would have time enough later. With the knowledge of what was to come heating his thoughts, they turned back to their family and friends to celebrate beneath the desert sky. 

The night stretched on as Kirk and Spock mingled with their loved ones. Every brush of their fingers or casual touch sparked down Kirk’s skin, driving him to distraction, and Spock’s well-hidden amusement was evident through the bond. Kirk could feel him in the back of his mind, like Spock had a hand on the back of his neck, and he couldn’t stop himself from nuzzling his mind against the spot just to feel Spock glow with pleasure on the other side. 

Eventually, both too soon and not soon enough, the guests started to say their goodbyes. Tommy and Martha left first, with the promise that they would come by the next day to see Kirk again before they went home, then Mira and Ellie. Rowan and Suk’han followed, much to Chapel and Uhura’s disappointment. Rowan gave Kirk a hug before she left. 

“You keep my information, you hear?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Kirk said. 

“My new best friend Bones will tell me if you need to reach out and you don’t,” she said, and Kirk’s eyes widened with betrayal. 

“I never should have introduced the two of you!”

Rowan shrugged. “Maybe,” she said. “But it’s too late now.” She waited as Kirk pressed his forehead to Suk’han’s, fondling her ears and accepting a rough-scrape lick across his cheek, and then, with one more smile, she left. Bones appeared at his shoulder. 

“I like her,” he said immediately, and Kirk slapped him on the back. 

“I’m sure you do,” he said. The Enterprise crew started beaming back up to the ship as well; Bones retrieved his things from the main house and accepted hugs from Amanda and Kirk before he left. As Janice stepped forward with Uhura and Chapel, Kirk snagged her arm. 

“If you don’t mind too terribly,” he said. “I have a work question for you.” 

“Sure, captain,” she said, and nodded to Christine and Uhura for them to continue on without her. Kevin dropped in behind them, returning to the Enterprise rather than ShiKahr now that the trial was over. Kirk steered them a few paces away from the rest of the crew as Spock saw them off, trying not to twitch as Spock left his side for the first time since they were bonded, and said, “I received an interesting message today.” 

Janice’s eyebrows went up. “Interesting how?” 

“It was a job offer for you.” Her eyebrows went higher, climbing towards her braided beehive. 

“What type of job?” 

Kirk considered her, trying to gauge how best to explain Lee’s offer. He mentally backed up, and instead put both hands on her shoulders. 

“Thank you,” he said first. “For all your help before the trial. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” 

“Oh,” she said, pleased, and looked down. “I’m sure that it would have been fine, you had Kathleen---” Then she cut herself off, and to Kirk’s immense surprise, blushed. “Lieutenant Commander Lee,” she said awkwardly. 

“Now, Janice,” Kirk said slowly, grinning, “What’s all this about?” 

“Nothing, captain,” she said immediately. Kirk shook her by the shoulders.

“We are at my wedding, yeoman,” he said, and released her. “I think you can be a little personal, if you want.” She looked up at him, blue eyes enormous, and covered her cheeks with the backs of her fingers before she said, “It’s nothing. It’s really nothing. It’s just…” She took a deep breath and said, her blush returning with a vengeance, “I’ve never met anyone whose mind works like hers before. Like mine. Working with her…” She trailed off and looked down.  

“You like her,” Kirk said, and Spock looked over at him in response to his pulse of delight over the bond. 

“I don’t know,” she protested. Kirk had never seen her at a loss for words before. “I’ve never even met her in person. I just…”

“She offered you a job,” Kirk said, unable to hide the grin spreading across his face. “She messaged me today. If you want it, I’ll sign your transfer.”

“What?” Her voice was sharp with shock. She covered her cheeks again. The bond in the back of Kirk’s head vibrated and shivered as Spock approached. 

“I believe her exact words were, ‘She’s got an unparalleled grasp of how and why regulation works in practice,’” Spock said. “She has been tasked with something in the aftermath of the court-martial, and requested you for her staff.” Janice pressed her hands harder against her cheeks. 

“I… But…” She looked up at them, her eyes shining. 

“Yeoman,” Kirk said, and felt Spock settle his hand at the base of his spine. The contact sent shivers over his skin, refracting in his vision. “Can I give you some advice?” She nodded. He leaned into Spock’s shoulder and said, “Take the leap.” 

Janice closed her eyes and nodded again. Then she dropped her hands away from her face and straightened, and Kirk saw the steel in her spine reassert itself. 

“By your leave, captain,” she said, voice high with excitement, and Kirk nodded. With one more mischievous grin breaking out over her face, she turned and ran to where Giotto was waiting to beam up. Kirk and Spock turned to the last of their guests. The rest of the crew then beamed back to the ship, and when Kirk watched them go, it was with the knowledge that he would be joining them soon.

He and Spock helped clear away the detritus of celebration, and under the light of T’Khut stole away back to the guesthouse. Before the door had even shut behind them entirely Spock had pushed him back against it. It clicked sharply in the silence, and before the echo had even faded away entirely Spock was on him, tongue and teeth against his skin and his hand sliding down into his trousers. Finally he could focus entirely on the new bond in the back of his mind. When he closed his eyes, tilting his head back against the door as Spock licked down his neck, he felt not only his own arousal, but Spock’s too, shuddering over the bond in great gasps. He pulled Spock’s face to his so he could kiss him. He slid his tongue past the seam of Spock’s lips as they parted for him, one of Spock’s hands coming up to cradle the back of his head and hold him in place. He listened, and felt it like the ocean: behind a barrier that he could only assume were Spock’s shields, some raging morass swelled. Kirk slid his hands under Spock’s robes, running them up his chest, and he could feel it: both Spock’s heat and skin under his palms, but also the mirror of the feeling through the bond, the way Spock tingled and lit up at his touch. Their mutual arousal bounced between them, magnifying with each pass down the bond of nails against backs and teeth against nipples and tongues against skin. Kirk pushed him backwards towards the bed, pulling Spock’s robes off his shoulders and sliding his hands greedily over the miles and miles of exposed skin. He glowed in the light of T’Khut through the windows, rippled scars and body hair and bony joints all illuminated for Kirk’s admiration. Spock was his, every inch and neuron, to touch and hold and love. 

“Yours,” Spock murmured in response as he let Kirk push him backwards onto the bed. Kirk crawled over him, relishing the mirrored drag of skin and hair, the way Spock ground up against his thigh between his legs. 

Yours , Kirk thought down the bond, as loudly as he could, and felt Spock’s mind throb in response. The dual sensations of both him and Spock were overwhelming. He was flying blind, but he followed his instincts: he pressed his mind messily against Spock’s shields as he kissed and licked and bit down his body. Let me in, let me see you. 

Ashayam--- Spock’s mind-voice was breathless as Kirk took him into his mouth, kneeling between his legs. His own cock throbbed, untouched, as what Spock was feeling flooded over him. He felt giddy with overstimulation, high on the sensation of the reverberating bond, the tether between their minds bouncing with movement and arousal. He crawled back up the bed to retrieve the lubricant from Spock’s bedside table. When he settled back next to him to work him open, Spock peeled back the layers of his shields in a striptease unlike any other.

Kirk did not frequently forget that Spock was an alien, a completely different species than himself; but it had never been so apparent than it did when Spock’s senses started to leak down the bond. His hearing was far keener than Kirk’s, his color vision slightly different, his sense of smell completely different. He closed his eyes to take it all in as he opened Spock up by touch alone. The way Spock saw him, felt him, smelled his sweat and sex--- all of it pulsed and dripped like wax down the bond into his mind. His fingers in Spock sparked with latent psi-energy, now made tangible through their bonding, lighting him up from the inside. Then Spock brought his hand up to Kirk’s face, sliding over his cheekbones and settling onto his psi-points. They slipped into the meld.

His body continued to move on autopilot. He settled between Spock’s thighs and pulled him into his lap. Spock groped at his shoulders and bit his neck as he slid into him, but all of his attention was within. He no longer had any concept of controlling or directing his own thoughts; the bond and Kirk’s mind were flooded with Spock. Spock slid into his mind. Spock pressed him open, the sheer overwhelming depth of his regard and his arousal dripping and licking into every fold and crevice. He could see himself the way Spock saw him: he could see shades that Kirk’s human eyes never could have distinguished. In Spock’s vision, he glowed a thousand shades of gold. 

Kirk laced his fingers through Spock’s, pinning his hands down against the mattress, and buried his face in his neck with his eyes closed. He listened to Spock’s sharp little gasps and let Spock’s mind push into his, tonguing him open, laving his love, his thoughts, his lust over everything he was. The bond drew them tighter and tighter, swelling with the energy that poured between them, vibrating until it was singing one clear note between them--- 

When they came, they came together, and the bond erupted into glimmering shards of light. 

☆☆☆

When he awoke the next morning, Kirk’s padd had a notice on it from the Enterprise .

By order of Dr. Leonard McCoy, chief medical officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, Captain James Kirk is authorized to return to duty, with no restrictions, effective start of next Alpha shift. 

His jag of bright sharp happiness startled Spock out of sleep, who turned to him immediately, reaching for him across the bed. “Jim?” 

Kirk flopped backwards onto the pillows and tossed his padd out of reach before rolling over Spock, straddling his hips and pressing his forehead to his. Spock skimmed his hands over his back and ass, his question floating over the bond and through his skin. 

Kirk said, “Let’s go home.”

☆☆☆

Kirk and Spock prepared lunch in the kitchen of the main house before the survivors arrived. They would spend a few hours together before they scattered back to the far corners of the galaxy; Tommy and Martha to their university, Mira and Ellie to their school, and Kirk and Kevin back to the Enterprise . After they’d all arrived and eaten together, Spock extended a gracious hand in front of him and said to Martha, “Would you care to see my mother’s garden? She has encouraged many non-native plants to flourish here.” 

“Yes! I meant to ask you about Vulcan pollinators last night,” Martha said immediately, and smoothed a hand over Tommy’s hair as she passed him and followed Spock outside. The door shut quietly behind them, leaving the survivors seated around the island. It struck Kirk that, without his noticing, he and his kids had sat around a table to share a meal for the first time since Farm School. He and Tommy had both found partners with whom they could share what they had endured, Kevin had carefully eaten nearly an entire plate with only one preliminary flinch, and with every moment spent in their company Ellie became a little less private. She was still reserved--- she and Mira had always had different temperaments--- but she shared more of her own interests, rather than letting Mira talk for both of them. Kirk learned that Martha and Tommy wanted children, that Ellie had a partner but Mira was uninterested in romance, that Kevin was the number one scorer across all of Starfleet on a popular holo-vid game. With every detail that he learned about them, their hollowed-out, desolate faces in his memory were replaced with them as they were now: scarred but alive, so alive. Even if they did not stay in contact any longer now that the trial was over, seeing them was a gift to him. 

The survivors stayed for three hours, talking over their empty plates. Martha and Spock eventually rejoined them with Martha’s promise to send along her research on artificial pollination for transplanted flowers, and Kirk spent his afternoon drinking in the pleasure of their company. His kids, his friends--- he had asked for help and they had risen to the challenge with a grace he had never predicted. 

Their time was winding down when Tommy said quietly, “I’ve been thinking about something since we got here.” All attention turned to him. He released his mask from the side of his head and rubbed the damaged skin self-consciously before resealing it. “I want to find Laika’s parents, and Madeleine and Natalya’s if possible, and tell them the truth.” Martha’s hand found Tommy’s under the table. For a second there was silence around the table as they remembered their fallen friend, the empty sixth chair, who had only tried to preserve their meager water supply and had died for it. They remembered the adults who had tried to save them.

“Yes,” Mira said, voice firm, and Ellie nodded. “They should know.” 

“Madeleine and Natalya were Starfleet,” Kirk said, and looked at Spock and Kevin. “Their emergency contacts might still be listed in their cadet files.”

“One of my professors from the Academy had been on the Valiant ,” Kevin offered. “She might know something useful, too.”

Tommy grinned lopsidedly across the table at Kirk, and Kirk grinned back. 

Kirk and Spock stood on the long, low front porch as the rest of the survivors called for aircars to take them to other transport or commed the Enterprise to be beamed back up. When it was time for each to go, Kirk pulled them in for a hug.

“Thank you,” he told each one, and each time he received a variation on a theme: I’m so glad you asked. I’m so glad you reached out. I’m happy that I could help you. Thank you for bringing us back together.  

Then it was only him and Spock standing in the late-afternoon sun, and Spock asked, “Will you remain in contact with them now?” 

“God, I hope so,” Kirk said. “Maybe I’ll let them all get home and settled before reaching back out again, though.” 

Then his padd dinged. He pulled it from his pocket. 

You have been invited to a group message by Mira Alcanzar: FARM SCHOOL FAMILY. Accept invitation? [YES / NO]

☆☆☆

Amanda and Spock prepared a special dinner for their last night on Vulcan: a wildly illogical smorgasbord of the foods that Kirk had enjoyed most during his time there. Breakfast breads rested alongside the vegetable wrap that he had eaten every day for lunch for three weeks in a row after first being introduced to it. There was a lot of soy; Vulcans had figured out ways to prepare tofu that even centuries of Earth vegans hadn’t attempted. Sarek, home earlier than usual from the embassy, joined them, and though dinner was quieter for his presence it was not tense or unpleasant.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Amanda assured them after they all cleared away the plates, either stored or recycled what hadn’t been eaten, and Sarek had vanished into his office. “But the house will feel so strange once you’ve gone back.” 

“I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. For us,” Kirk said to her. He dried the dishes that she had deemed too delicate for the sonic and replaced them in their proper places. She handed him the last glass and leaned her hip against the counter, turning to look at him. 

“Logic does not need to be thanked, Jim,” she said. Then she laid her hand on his arm. “And neither does family.” His throat tightened at the unexpected words. She smiled as he struggled with his composure and turned to the kitchen at large, where Spock wiped down the table. 

“I hope you come visit when you’re able,” she said. “I hope it’s not another twenty years before we get Spock back here.” 

“I’ll see what I can do, ma’am. But if you could send me a list of anything that would qualify me for clan protection again, I might be able to speed up the process.” He and Amanda laughed as Spock raised an incredulous eyebrow at him, and then they bid her goodnight. 

They were halfway across the garden to the guesthouse when a deep voice called, “ Sa-fu. ” Spock straightened immediately and turned over his shoulder. Kirk turned with him as a spark of surprise flickered down the bond. Sarek stood by the back door, illuminated by the light of the main house; it swirled over the waves of his hair and caught in his robes. 

“ Sa-mekh,” Spock said, and Kirk felt the twinge of question and confusion in Spock’s mind. When was the last time he had called his father by that word, instead of his name? Had it been before that last catastrophic fight, before Spock joined Starfleet?

Sarek hesitated for a moment, before he crossed to them. For a moment he looked at his son, and his son at him. Then Sarek extended something between them. Spock took it and held it up in the light: it was a wrapped packet of coiled ka'athyra strings.

“Your playing has improved since your youth,” Sarek said. “But it appears that the strings on your instrument have not been replaced.” 

“ Ka’athyra strings are rarely sold off of Vulcan, and therefore difficult to acquire while on mission,” Spock said, and gently turned the packet in his hands. He looked at his father. 

“Then it would be prudent for you to return in order to purchase them more regularly,” Sarek said. He looked at his son, and though his face remained still, something in his eyes softened. He drew himself up and said, in the measured tones of the perfectly logical, “Your mother would like it.” He stepped backwards, as if to distance himself from what he had said, and instead raised the ta’al . “I travel early in the morning for a meeting, so I will not see you before you depart. Live long and prosper, Spock. Captain Kirk.” 

Spock and Kirk both raised the ta’al . “Live long and prosper, Father,” Spock said, and Sarek nodded once before turning and sweeping back into the house. Spock looked down at the strings in his hand before looking at Kirk with something close to abject shock bouncing over the bond. Kirk ran his hand over Spock’s back, leaning into him for a moment, and they continued back to the guesthouse to pack.

Before Kirk fell asleep that night, he sent a message. 

Dear Mom and Dad, 

I hope you’re both doing well. How is the U.S.S. Sausalito? Are you headed anywhere new? 

I wanted to let you know that I’m married now--- to my first officer, S’chn T’gai Spock of Vulcan. We were bonded on Vulcan while we were on-planet for leave. If we ever cross paths, I’d love to introduce him to you. He’s great. I think Dad would like him a lot. 

I also wanted to talk to you about something else. I’m not sure if you heard, but there was a court-martial recently--- I was cleared, but the trial brought up a lot of evidence about what happened when I was a kid. If you’re up for it, I’d like to talk to you about it. If you’re not, that’s fine. But the offer stands. 

Anyway, that’s all. Safe travels. 

Your son,

Jim

He closed his padd and dropped it onto the bedside table before rolling to wrap himself around Spock’s back. Part of him wanted to refresh his messages over and over until the battery died. Part of him hoped that his parents never responded. But he had done his part; the only thing he had control over was whether or not he had sent the comm. 

They might respond and refuse to acknowledge that anything had changed, or refuse to talk about Tarsus at all. They might prefer to stay estranged and leave themselves at arm’s distance. But Kirk had reached out. He would leave that hand extended, because that was what he did: he would rather reach out and fail than never try and wonder forever.

In the end, he thought, what his parents decided to do now wouldn’t really matter. He knew that, either way, he would be okay.

☆☆☆

The next morning, Kirk pulled his uniform down off the hanger in the closet for the first time in four months. He held it in his hands, letting it slide through his fingers to the bed, before stripping off his sleep clothes and stepping into them. He sensed Spock’s approach before the door opened, and when Spock entered from the bathroom in his science blues, Kirk turned with his hands outstretched and said, “How do I look?” 

Spock scanned him from head to toe and back again, and though his face did not change Kirk could feel him through the bond: pride and appreciation, a flicker of arousal that Kirk noted with curiosity and tucked away to consider in detail later, and his love. 

“Ready for duty, sir,” Spock said, and bent to kiss him. 

They met Amanda in the backyard with their bags. She was dressed to leave for her own work, hair wrapped carefully to prevent it being tossed in the day’s high winds, and unclasped her hands from in front of herself as they appeared. Kirk accepted a hug and Spock raised the ta’al .

“Please let us know how you’re doing every once in a while,” Amanda said to Kirk, eyes twinkling at them both. “Us human mothers do appreciate a sign of life.” 

“I’ll make it happen, ma’am,” Kirk said, grinning. Then, with a lurch of joy and apprehension, he flipped open his comm. “Captain Kirk to Lieutenant Commander Scott.” 

“Scotty here,” a welcome voice called back. “On standby for transport, sir.” 

“Thank you again, Amanda,” Kirk said, and Amanda smiled warmly. 

“You’re always welcome here, Jim,” she said. Then her focus turned to her son. “I love you, sa-fu. ” Spock inclined his head, and as Kirk gave Scotty the word and the transporter grabbed them, the bond twanged with gratitude and warmth and something that felt like daring. 

“And I you, ko-mekh ,” Spock said. Before the transporter whirled them away, they got one good look at the expression on Amanda Grayson’s face as she registered what Spock had said. It was beautiful. 

Kirk and Spock materialized on the starship Enterprise for the first time in four months, and it immediately felt like home again. Kirk closed his eyes, still standing on the transporter pad with his bag over his shoulder, and listened to the music of his ship: the constant low roar of life support and aircon, the beeps and whirrs of panels and machinery fans, footsteps in the hallway and the voices of his crew, and one Montgomery Scott at the transporter control panel calling, “Good to have you back, captain!” 

“Ah, Scotty,” Kirk said, and grinned broadly. “There’s no place like home.” They stepped out of the transporter room and were immediately overwhelmed by a chorus of “welcome back!” and “good to see you!” from the crew passing through the halls. Tired engineers leaving the bay after Gamma shift passed bright-eyed Alpha scientists headed down to the science decks early--- the scientists did double-takes at Spock’s reappearance, raising the Vulcan salute and squeaking their hellos before darting down to the labs. Kirk bounced on the balls of his feet, drinking it all in. He had been returned to his ship, rested and repaired and more grateful than he had ever been in his life for the crew that had held space for him while he was away. He wanted to wrap his arms around the entirety of the ship and hold it close to him.

Spock pulled Kirk’s duffel bag off his shoulder and placed it onto his own. “I will return our possessions to our quarters and meet you on the bridge,” he said. Amusement and affection pulsed over the bond, spilling into his mind, as Spock thought, Go. I’ll see you in a moment. Kirk grinned at him, quietly pressing two fingers to Spock’s, and slipped with Scotty into the crowd. 

He had thirty minutes before the start of Alpha shift, and he intended to make them count. He started by following Scotty down to Engineering to say hello to the engineers before shifting upward to the labs. He waved to Dr. Khan and Spock’s scientists, many of whom giggled and waved at the return of his formerly unexplained presence in the lab. He stuck his head in the crew mess to shout hello and grab a coffee, did the same in the officers’ mess, popped into the gym and Giotto’s office, and rode the turbolift just to hear the whooshing of it. He climbed a Jeffries tube and scared the living daylights out of an unprepared ensign when he swung out of it. He eventually found himself on the D deck: the longest strip of uninterrupted corridor on the ship, dead in the center and reaching from fore to aft. He didn’t see a single other person in the hallway; it didn’t have a formal use, and mostly served as a conduit to other places. 

He raised his hands high above his head, stretching and breathing in the slightly stale tang of recycled air. The oxygen level on the ship was higher than that of Vulcan, and he was high on the difference. He would miss Vulcan. He would miss the guesthouse and Amanda’s kitchen and the purple tile of Rowan’s ceiling. But the Enterprise was his home; this was where he belonged. He bounced on the balls of his feet and relished the feel of his uniform against his skin and the comfortable tread of his work boots against the floor. Then, completely alone, unwatched, and free, he ran the entire length of his beloved ship, laughing like a kid.

Kirk arrived on the bridge thirty seconds before the start of Alpha shift. The turbolift door whooshed open, and it was like the past four months had never happened: Uhura at the communications console, Sulu and Chekov bickering at the front, Spock standing at parade rest by the sensors, already looking at the turbolift when Kirk arrived. Chris wheeled his chair around as a rush of warmth engulfed Kirk: welcome backs and hellos, and Spock’s pleased pride and comfort humming in the back of his mind.

 “Welcome back, Captain Kirk,” Chris said. 

“Thank you, Admiral,” Kirk said, and grinned. “I relieve you, sir.” 

“I am relieved,” Chris said, and for a moment it crystallized between them: that unique love that a captain had for the ship they commanded, and their appreciation for the ship and the crew that they loved in common. Then Chris backed out of the chair-stall and Kirk strode down the steps to it. He flipped the seat back down and, after all his time away, sat back into it. 

He leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. It felt a little different, after the alterations that Scotty had made for Chris’s chair. But he was different, as well, so that was alright. 

“Your orders are to escort me, Morrow, and Drake back to Earth,” Chris said. “Then you’ll head back out to the black.” His eyes flicked to a padd that Kirk hadn’t noticed, resting on the arm of the chair. “That came this morning.” Kirk sat forward and flicked it open to read as Chris made his farewells to the rest of the bridge crew and steered himself into the turbolift. 

HIGH PRIORITY 

CONFIDENTIAL 

Captain Kirk, 

It’s been a productive few days for us, but it seems like every time we learn something concrete, it sends us down another rabbit hole of secrets. My prediction of a few months of work may have been premature. We’re not waiting for the investigation to be done, though, before we start rectifying some of the more egregious violations. Please see attached an assignment for after you return the admirals to Headquarters. If you find it more painful than helpful, let me know, but I’ve decided that you and Lieutenant Riley get the right of first refusal on this one.

Two other updates for you: first, Admiral April is remaining on Vulcan for the time being so that he can work with the VSA to repair the damage done by the neutralizer. Though communication is complicated on that front at the moment, he has indicated that he intends to remain embedded with my team until the work is done. 

I did tell him what I was going to offer to you, and he said, and I quote, to “call it a belated wedding gift.” 

Second: Janice says hello. Thank you again for signing her transfer - she has been invaluable already. 

Reach out if you refuse the mission or if there are any complications. If not, report the outcome back to me once completed. 

Best,

LC Lee

Kirk tapped on the bond to get Spock’s attention as he re-read Lee’s note. His attention snagged on the phrase ‘right of first refusal’ as Spock left his sensors to stand at his shoulder and read the padd in his hand. 

Any guesses?

None that I am willing to put forth. 

Kirk tapped to the next page and pulled up the mission itself. Across the top was branded FOR EXTRADITION: CRIMES AGAINST SENTIENT LIFE. 

Then beneath that was LAST KNOWN ALIAS: ANTON KARIDIAN. 

Anton Karidian was a man who seemingly sprang to life eighteen years previously solely to perform as an actor on various far-flung planets. Beneath the brief dossiere of information known about him was the formal assignment signed by both Lee and April: This alias may be used by the man formerly known as Governor Kodos of Tarsus IV. Investigate, confirm, and if confirmed, capture alive and return to Earth for trial and sentencing.  

“My god,” Kirk said quietly, and covered his mouth with one hand. He scanned the information again: it wasn’t much, but it had come from April and Lee. Shock from him and comfort from Spock filled the bond in equal measure. A small part of him wailed in distress at the thought of facing the man who had killed his friends and destroyed Farm School. But there was a larger, louder, stronger part of him that called for justice. 

He had already faced Elise and found justice for himself and his friends; here was an opportunity to do the same on a much larger scale. He thought about the eight thousand people that had died on Tarsus: his friends and his teachers and an enormous list of people that he had never met and would never know. They deserved accountability from the Federation; they deserved for their stories to be told. He turned his eyes to the viewscreen ahead of him. Below them was Vulcan, and ahead were the stars, so many little pinholes of light in a black velvet sky. But closer to him were his beloved bridge crew, his friends and his family, and they were prepared to follow him wherever he chose to lead them. 

He looked down at the data sheet about Karidian. The troupe that he led was making its way through the Alpha quadrant; they could drop the admirals off on Earth and then continue on an intercept path to meet them before they got to Planet Q, where Tommy and Martha lived. He closed the padd. He would talk to Kevin before formally accepting, but he thought he had an idea about what Kevin might say about it. The Enterprise would take the mission, and he would tell his crew what their goals were when they were closer. He might tell the bridge crew why they had been assigned this mission, this man; he might even tell a select handful what he felt about it. 

Kirk might find an unlucky stranger, or he might find the man who had walked through his nightmares. But he wouldn’t do it alone. 

“Mr. Chekov, plot a course to Earth. Mr. Sulu, prepare for warp three,” Kirk said, and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his legs again. Behind him, Uhura called the Vulcan interstellar transportation authority to clear their exit, and his helmsman and his navigator in front of him ran through their checks together as they prepared for their departure. 

His science officer, his husband, his bondmate stood quietly at his side, and rested one hand on his shoulder before returning to his sensors and scanners. Even when the touch of his hand had dropped away, Kirk felt Spock’s attention through the bond: partially on his console, partially humming at the presence of Kirk’s mind nearby. He would need to learn to shield, at some point, or risk distracting Spock every time he looked over and saw him bent over the scanners just so. But they would have time enough for that; in the meanwhile, he was enjoying the constant comforting hum of Spock’s ever-churning mind in the back of his own.

“Course locked, captain,” Chekov said. 

“Ready for warp, captain,” Sulu said. 

“Impulse power until we’re out of Vulcan’s range, Mr. Sulu. Then take us away,” Kirk said. The ship hummed and beeped and sang around him as his orders were followed, and he watched the stars shift through the viewscreen ahead until the ship leapt to warp and they smeared into blurry streaks of light. 

Ad astra per amorem; and onward.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Martha and Tommy's first child, a daughter, is named Natalya. Giotto and his wife Miriam get to buy their house in Cairo, where they make up for the time they didn’t have. Janice and Kathleen Lee, along with Admiral April, have their work cut out for them. It’s ugly, and Elise does not let go without a fight--- but when it’s over, Lee will ask Janice to marry her. Sulu and Dr. Khan had a great time working together. When Sulu is offered his own command down the line, he takes her with him as his science officer. And Kirk and Spock, of course, live happily ever after.

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … January 4

1750 – France Bruno Lenoir and Jean Diot are caught having sex in public for which they are arrested. A year later they were executed. There was general surprise in France at the severity of their sentence. Their execution was the last in France for consensual sodomy.

1877 – Marsden Hartley (d.1943) was an American Modernist painter, poet, and essayist. Hartley was born in Lewiston, Maine, where his English parents had settled.

In 1898, at age 22, Hartley moved to New York City to study painting at the New York School of Art. Hartley was a great admirer of Albert Pinkham Ryder and visited his studio in Greenwich Village as often as possible. His friendship with Ryder inspired Hartley to view art as a spiritual quest.

Hartley first traveled to Europe in April 1912, and he became acquainted with Gertude Stein's circle of avante-garde writers and artists in Paris. Stein, along with Hart Crane and Sherwood Anderson, encouraged Hartley to write as well as paint.

Finnish-Yankee sauna

In 1913, Hartley moved to Berlin, where he continued to paint. Many of Hartley's Berlin paintings were further inspired by the German military pageantry then on display, though his view of this subject changed after the outbreak of World War I, once war was no longer "a romantic but a real reality." The earliest of his Berlin paintings were shown in the landmark 1913 Armory Show in New York.

In Berlin, Hartley developed a close relationship with a Prussian lieutenant, Karl von Freyburg, who was the cousin of Hartley's friend Arnold Ronnebeck. References to Freyburg were a recurring motif in Hartley's work, most notably in Portrait of a German Officer (1914). Freyburg's subsequent death during the war hit Hartley hard, and he afterward idealized their relationship. Many scholars believe Hartley to have been gay, and have interpreted his work regarding Freyburg as embodying his homosexual feelings for him.

Portrait of a German Soldier

In addition to being considered one of the foremost American painters of the first half of the 20th century, Hartley also wrote poems, essays, and stories.

Cleophas and His Own: A North Atlantic Tragedy is a story based on two periods he spent in 1935 and 1936 with the Mason family in the Lunenburg County, Nova Scotia, fishing community of East Point Island. Hartley, then in his late 50s, found there both an innocent, unrestrained love and the sense of family he had been seeking since his unhappy childhood in Maine. The impact of this experience lasted until his death in 1943 and helped widen the scope of his mature works, which included numerous portrayals of the Masons.

He wrote of the Masons, "Five magnificent chapters out of an amazing, human book, these beautiful human beings, loving, tender, strong, courageous, dutiful, kind, so like the salt of the sea, the grit of the earth, the sheer face of the cliff." In Cleophas and His Own, written in Nova Scotia in the fall of 1936, Hartley expresses his immense grief at the tragic drowning of the Mason sons. The independent filmmaker Michael Maglaras has created a feature film Cleophas and His Own, released in 2005, which uses a personal testament by Hartley as its screenplay.

1946 – Arthur Conley aka Lee Roberts (d.2003) was a U.S. soul singer, best known for the 1967 hit "Sweet Soul Music".

Conley was born in McIntosh County, Georgia, U.S., and grew up in Atlanta. He first recorded in 1959 as the lead singer of Arthur & the Corvets. With this group, he released three singles in 1963 and 1964 – "Poor Girl", "I Believe", and "Flossie Mae" – on the Atlanta based record label, National Recording Company.

In 1964, he moved to a new label (Baltimore's Ru-Jac Records) and released "I'm a Lonely Stranger". When Otis Redding heard this, he asked Conley to record a new version, which was released on Redding's own fledgling label Jotis Records, as only its second release. Conley met Redding in 1967. Together they rewrote the Sam Cooke song "Yeah Man" into "Sweet Soul Music", which, at Redding's insistence, was released on the Atco-distributed label Fame Records, and was recorded at FAME studios in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. It proved to be a massive hit, going to the number two position on the U.S. charts and the Top Ten across much of Europe. "Sweet Soul Music" sold over one million copies, and was awarded a gold disc.

After several years of hits singles in the early 1970s, he relocated to England in 1975, and spent several years in Belgium, settling in Amsterdam (Netherlands) in spring 1977. At the beginning of 1980 he had some major performances as Lee Roberts and the Sweaters in the Ganzenhoef, Paradiso, De Melkweg and the Concertgebouw, and was highly successful. At the end of 1980 he moved to the Dutch village of Ruurlo, legally changing his name to Lee Roberts — his middle name and his mother's maiden name. He promoted new music via his Art-Con Productions company. Amongst the bands he promoted was the heavy metal band Shockwave from The Hague. A live performance on January 8, 1980, featuring Lee Roberts & the Sweaters, was released as an album entitled Soulin' in 1988.

Conley was gay, and several music writers have said that his homosexuality was a bar to greater success in the United States and one of the reasons behind his move to Europe and his eventual name change. In 2014, rock historian Ed Ward wrote, "[Conley] headed to Amsterdam and changed his name to Lee Roberts. Nobody knew 'Lee Roberts,' and at last Conley was able to live in peace with a secret he had hidden – or thought he had – for his entire career: he was gay. But nobody in Holland cared."

Conley died from intestinal cancer in Ruurlo, Netherlands aged 57 in November 2003. He was buried in Vorden.

1960 – Michael Stipe has been the lead singer, lyricist, and composer for the successful rock band R.E.M. for over two decades. Among his best-known songs is "Losing My Religion," which rose to number 4 on the United States rock charts in 1991. He has also become involved in film and now has his own production companies.

The child of a career military officer, John Michael Stipe, born in Decatur, Georgia, grew up on bases around the United States and also in Germany, and spent his high school years in Illinois.

Stipe returned to Georgia for college, enrolling as an art student at the University of Georgia in 1978. There he met fellow alternative music fans Peter Buck, Mike Mills, and Bill Berry. Within a year all four had dropped out of college to forge a career as a rock band, R.E.M.

They went on a concert tour and in 1980 put out their first single, "Radio Free Europe." Its success, particularly on college radio stations, won them a recording contract. Their first full-length album, Murmur (1983), was chosen as Album of the Year by Rolling Stone magazine.

Stipe's vigor on stage contributed to the success of R.E.M.'s concerts. He interacted with the audience and charged about with boundless energy. He blasted his often dark and brooding lyrics into the microphone with such force that they were frequently barely intelligible.

In addition to composing and performing, Stipe has also directed several of R.E.M.'s music videos and oversees the creation of their album covers.

By 2004 the band had recorded nearly twenty albums with collective sales of almost fifty million copies worldwide, making it one of the most successful in the history of rock music.

With the success of the albums Out of Time (1991) and Automatic for the People (1992), R.E.M. became mainstream music stars. Around 1992, rumors that Stipe had contracted HIV began to circulate. According to Stipe, he did not start the rumor and he does not know who did.

Not that I can tell. I wore a hat that said 'White House Stop AIDS'. I'm skinny. I've always been skinny, except in 1985 when I looked like Marlon Brando, the last time I shaved my head. I was really sick then. Eating potatoes. I think AIDS hysteria would obviously and naturally extend to people who are media figures and anybody of indecipherable or unpronounced sexuality. Anybody who looks gaunt, for whatever reason. Anybody who is associated, for whatever reason - whether it's a hat, or the way I carry myself -as being queer-friendly.

In 1994, with questions still swirling about his sexuality, Stipe described himself as "an equal opportunity lech," and said he did not define himself as gay, straight, or bisexual, but that he was attracted to, and had relationships with, both men and women.

In 1995, he appeared on the cover of Out magazine. Stipe described himself as a "queer artist" in Time in 2001 and revealed that he had been in a relationship with "an amazing man" for three years at that point. Stipe reiterated this in a 2004 interview with Butt magazine. When asked if he ever declares himself as gay, Stipe stated, "I don't. I think there's a line drawn between gay and queer, and for me, queer describes something that's more inclusive of the grey areas."

In 1999, author Douglas A. Martin published a novel, Outline of My Lover, in which the narrator has a six-year romantic relationship with the unnamed lead singer of a successful Athens, Georgia-based, rock band; the book was widely speculated, and later confirmed by its author, to have been a roman à clef based on a real relationship between Martin and Stipe. The two had previously collaborated on two books, both in 1998: The Haiku Year (for which the two had both contributed haikai) and Martin's book of poetry Servicing the Salamander (for which Stipe took the cover photograph).

1965 – Craig Revel Horwood is an Australian-British author, dancer, choreographer, conductor, theatre director, and former drag queen in the United Kingdom. He is also a patron of the Royal Osteoporosis Society.

Horwood is best known as a judge on the popular BBC dancing series Strictly Come Dancing, and until 13 November 2021, as he tested positive for COVID-19 and missed the following week's show, had been the only judge to have appeared in every edition since its inception. He is often seen performing ballroom and Latin routines including, in 2019, a performance themed around Hello, Dolly!.

Horwood has a waxwork in Madame Tussauds Blackpool which has been on display since July 2018. On 20 July 2021, Horwood was given an Honorary Doctor of Arts by the University of Winchester at Winchester Cathedral.

He was born in Ballarat, Australia. His father Phil was a former Royal Australian Navy Lieutenant whose alcoholism had "torn their family apart". He started his career as a dancer in Melbourne, then moved to London to take advantage of the greater opportunities available there and to dance competitively. In 1989, he moved to the UK from Australia, and on 20 August 2011, he became a British citizen.

Revel is Horwood's middle name; it is not double barrelled. In his autobiography, Horwood reveals that at the age of 17, he made money by appearing as a drag queen in bars and clubs and that his relationship with an unnamed celebrity was akin to prostitution.

Horwood was married to Jane Horwood from 1990 to 1992. In December 2014, Horwood informed a reporter from OK! magazine that 'I was bisexual for a long time. I flitted between men and women quite a lot between the ages of 17 and 26. My wife Jane left me for another man. Then I fell in love with a bloke. I have been gay ever since.' His former partner Damon Scott had been a runner up on Britain's Got Talent.

Since early 2018, Horwood has been in a relationship with horticulturist Jonathan Myring. In April 2020 Horwood and Myring announced their engagement. The pair, who met on Tinder, became engaged while in Tasmania.

Horwood became a patron of the Royal Osteoporosis Society in 2009. In this, he has found common ground with Camilla, Queen Consort, the Society's Royal patron (whose mother, like his, had bone disease). The two of them danced the cha-cha-cha together, on a school visit to mark National Osteoporosis Day in 2009.

In January 2015, Horwood revealed on ITV's Loose Women that he suffered from anorexia and body dysmorphia as a teenager and young dancer, as a result of trying to make himself look like other young men, and other dancers in particular.The 14th British series of Who Do You Think You Are? featured Horwood's ancestry in the second episode; in this, his family history research took him home to Australia, where he discovered that his family tree traces to Gloucestershire, Lancashire and Essex in England. Horwood found out that he is not the first dancer in his family, and that he is descended from gold prospectors that went bankrupt before becoming rich on finding a 250-ounce (7.1 kg) gold nugget. He also learnt further that his great-great-grandfather, Moses Horwood, who is revealed in the programme to have been a petty criminal from England, was convicted at the Gloucestershire assizes and transported to Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania) in 1841. Criminal records identified by TheGenealogist include a transportation document for Moses Horwood, showing he departed England on 1 December 1841 on board a ship called the John Brewer.

1970 – Christopher Klucsarits, better known as Chris Kanyon (d.2010), US Professional wrestler, best known for his work in World Championship Wrestling and the World Wrestling Federation, under the ring names Kanyon and Mortis.

In 2006, after Kanyon's release from WWE, he began a gimmick in which he was an openly homosexual pro wrestler. This included a publicity stunt wherein he stated that WWE released him from his contract because of his sexuality. Kanyon later told reporters and even stated on a number of radio interviews, that this was just a publicity stunt and he was heterosexual. However, he later retracted these statements and acknowledged that he was in fact homosexual.

Before his death Kanyon was working on a book, Wrestling Reality, with Ryan Clark. The book was released November 1, 2011, and it features Kanyon's struggles as a closeted gay man as a prominent theme.

1984 – Illinois repeals its "lewd fondling or caress" law, more than two decades after repealing its sodomy law.

1997 – A British tabloid accuses Conservative M.P. Jerry Hayes of having an affair in 1991 with a then-18-year-old male. At the time, 18 was under the age of consent.

[kulturegroupie]

Jimmy Page’s opinion on The Doors

JP: Actually, I was surprised after hearing a lot about The Doors and we got a lot of advance publicity in England about how sexy Jim M. was, how virile and whatever. I was surprised to see how static he was live on stage. I admire his writing ability and when he gets it together in a studio, he really does. But on stage, he’s not really for me.

He doesn’t really come across in any way I’d like to see. Being dressed in black leather can only go so far but standing there like my father would on stage doesn’t really come across for me.

I: WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE OPINION THAT ROBERT PLANT COPIES JIM?

JP: How could he have done? They’re completely different. If you want to relate Robert to a sexual image, and a lot of people are doing that, he’s all those things one would associate with it. He’s good looking (I’m not saying Jim isn’t), he’s got the virile image, he moves very well on stage and he looks right and he sings well — his whole thing is total sexual aggression.

As far as I could see, the Morrison thing is just an embarassment towards the audience. He would actually insult them and swear at them and his sexual thing is more of an introvert thing — it isn’t so extroverted as Robert’s.

— Ritchie Yorke for NME, April 25, 1970

[cosmic60s]

I wanted to share this here because I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, the highlighted bit is so amusing - I'm really fascinated by Robert Benayoun and admire how much he championed Jerry's work

(from Jonathan Rosenbaum's column in Film Comment, March-April 1973)

[defconprime]

Adrian Holmes as Admiral Robert April

[pixiedane]

Katboberfest 2023 day 4: I knew you were trouble

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Robert April/Katrina Cornwell Characters: Robert April, Katrina Cornwell Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Grief/Mourning, References to Depression Series: Part 5 of Katrina Cornwell: Strange New Worlds Summary:

Bob provides Kat space to let go.

Trouble

[galleryofart]

Servants Washing a Deer

Artist: Agostino Brunias (Italian, 1728 - 1796)

Object Type: Painting

Date: c. 1775

Medium: Oil on Canvas

Collection: Yale Center for British Art, New Haven, Connecticut

Agostino Brunias (c. 1730 – 2 April 1796) was an Italian painter who was primarily active in the West Indies. Born in Rome around 1730, Brunias spent his early career as a painter after graduating from the Accademia di San Luca. After he befriended prominent Scottish architect Robert Adam and accompanied him back to Britain, Brunias left for the British West Indies to continue his career in painting under the tutelage of Sir William Young. Although he was primarily commissioned to paint the various planter families and their plantations in the West Indies, he also painted several scenes featuring free people of colour and cultural life in the West Indies. Brunias spent most of his West Indian career on the island of Dominica, where he would die in 1796. Historians have made disparate assessments of Brunias's works; some praised his subversive depiction of West Indian culture, while others claimed it romanticised the harshness of plantation life. Haitian revolutionary Toussaint Louverture was a prominent admirer of his work.

[mirioho]

Full Character Profile: Reyu Carrera

Name: Reyu Carerra

Age: 17

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Birthday: April 27

Height: 5’7

Class: 1-A

Dorm: Ramshackle

Homeland: New York

Club: Board Game Club

Best Subject: Mathematics

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Dosas

Least Favorite Food: Shrimp (Allergic)

Twisted From: Robert Philip (Enchanted)

Hobbies: Writing, Bullet Journaling, Scrapbooking

Likes: Reading, Watching Legal Dramas, Soap Operas (Secretly), History, Coffee, Stationery, Poetry, Magic Tricks, Trying New Food, Flying, Candles, Chess, Museums

Dislikes: Cleaning, Rats, Cockroaches, Blind Optimism, Failing, Danger, Being a Burden, Dancing (So she says), Vanity, Playboys

Character Info:

  Reyu grew up in the bustling city of New York,  specifically in Jackson Heights, with only her working single mother to raise her. This was because shortly after Reyu turned 7 years old, her parents had divorced, and to make matters worse, her father just up and left, wanting no contact and no part in raising Reyu. To be so clearly unwanted by her father was a sting that burned her to her core. However, her mother was undeterred by her ex-husband’s lack of involvement, she was a strong woman and she would see to it that Reyu understood that she was loved by her and she would do her best to shape her into an independent and strong young lady herself.

Reyu greatly admired her mother, and though there was still an ache in her heart, she did her best to be strong, moreso for her mother’s sake, to assure her that she was doing a good job on her own. Reyu could tell how tiring it could be for her mother, having to provide for the both of them on her own, having to work double jobs, having to do long hours, just to keep moving forward. It’s why Reyu did her best to do her part and work hard in school, to make sure she had top grades her mother could be proud of, to participate in activities that would show her mother that her efforts weren’t in vain. Reyu didn’t want to become a burden to her mother, she couldn’t. So she had to be someone worth sacrificing so much for. She had to repay everything her mother did for her.

Reyu has the goal of becoming an affluent and well-established Family Lawyer. A goal she pursues by looking up qualifications she’ll need and doing her best to prepare herself for law school, maintaining her GPA, making connections, doing research, joining her school’s debate team, and even earning herself an internship for a law firm.

But she never does make it to her internship, instead, she finds herself inside a coffin and in a completely different world.

Personality:

Reyu is, of course, hardworking when it comes to her studies and is often reading one thing or another, always expanding her knowledge although she would already be considered intelligent, she knows learning doesn’t have an end point. 

She can be quick-witted as well, having grown up in the city, her mind is constantly on the go and ready to react to one situation or another. Though, being in Twisted Wonderland, even she finds herself taken aback at the things that occur. Still, she strives to remain practical and calm when she can.

Though Reyu is kind and soft-hearted, she tends to be prone to a sarcastic and sometimes snarky front that she’s mostly adopted to keep herself from getting too emotionally attached and distracted away from her goal in pursuing a successful career as a lawyer. (She tries to anyways, but she ends up getting attached easily anyways thanks to being a softie)

But, she’s still a helpful and caring person, and she’s very forthcoming about following her personal principles. One such being that just because the world sucks doesn’t mean one needs to make it worse. She’d be the first to accept there’s a lot wrong in the world, but she’ll still be the first to do the honorable thing and do right by people who need it, even if she gains nothing from it and even if said people might not deserve it. (With few exceptions of course, these are still her own personal principles so she can change it as she sees fit)

Overall, Reyu is a self-reliant, sometimes strict, yet responsible, protective and trustworthy person.

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