#{ where we could crack jokes just to defuse the tension between us }

[rogue-durin-16]

AN UNUSUAL YEAR (Part V/V)

Summary: After having little to no interest on girls for five years, Fred suddenly feels the need to nag the shit out of a certain witch, completely oblivious to the reason behind it.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Genre: fluff (+ enemies to lovers)

Tags:

An unusual year: @natural-hearts @manuosorioh @lumos-solemn @westyywifee @whiskeyn-rain @warlock--protection @gossip-girl-ecr @fandomscombine @birdy944 @28cnn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: a little angst, a little snogging 👀

A/N: maybe a bit longer than I expected but it's alright. Also I might write an addition to this story, not sure tho. I hope y'all enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it <3

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"Y/n! Come sit with us?" George waved at me from the Gryffindor table as I entered the Great Hall, prompting me to sit across him and Angelina, and besides Fred. "Where's Mathilda?" He asked as I got closer, leaving my books on the wooden surface.

"She's feeling unwell." As I sat down, I noticed George's arm around Angelina and I couldn't help the knowing grin that tugged the corner of my lips. "The date exchange at the Ball turned out well, huh?"

"I could say the same about you." He wiggled his brows at me with the same grin I had.

I felt a sudden rush of panic going through my body. My eyes traveled to the boy by my side, who was oddly quiet, and I found him already peeking at me.

"Meaning?" I decided to play dumb, taking a bite of my golden slice of toast whilst ignoring the intending gazes of the couple in front of me.

"You two were having a great time last night." Angelina jumped in, leaning over her table. "Didn't see you coming back, Fred." She added, redirecting her eyes to the ginger.

"I did." His brother laughed. "I daresay you two had an intense night." I felt my cheeks reddening, not finding enough strength to meet George's look. "It was about time, really."

I was startled by Fred abruptly standing up. "See you in class." The curt reply he offered before fleeing shocked all of us; specially his brother, who, with a polite apology, left me and Angelina to go after his twin.

"I feel like I shouldn't ask." She spoke quietly.

"I don't have an answer."

I feared she would see through me. I hadn't lied, but my gut told me whatever happened had to do with the change of demeanor he had at the end of our night out.

I wouldn't say it out loud but a part of me began to worry.

The worry stayed throughout that entire week, guilt joining it at some point. Fred's attendance in Charms, Astronomy and Potions had decreased; I had only see him attend once to Astronomy. The only thing he did was play with his quill and, whenever he thought I didn't notice, stare at me.

Ironically enough, we started spending most of the time together; after the winter break, George had incorporated both Mathilda and me to their friend group, which, in different circumstances, would have been great.

Alicia Spinnet gained special interest on my best friend; Lee Jordan would joke about Slytherins and Gryffindors getting together, and Angelina— well, she seemed happier now that she could hang out with all her friends at the same time.

Fred was miserable. Everyone could see it, yet they did their best to cover it up.

George would overcompensate his brother's attitude by being louder and paying extra attention to me, but it worsened the situation.

I wanted to ask Fred what was wrong, but then again we weren't even good friends, so was it really my place to ask?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

George had proposed a trip to Hogsmade a couple of days ago and we all agreed on going, but the day came and Fred wasn't there.

His brother alleged he had a terrible headache and had chosen to stay in bed. We all saw through his excuse, and once more no one said a word.

It was that night that George came to look for me.

"—well then, go get her!" His shouts got into the common room when a second year entered..

"What's this about?" I inquired, coming out to the hallway to see the ginger about to throw hands at my prefect.

"I need you." He stated, quickly losing interest on whatever the prefect had to say. I only nodded and motioned him to move with me far from the Slytherin door. "You have to speak to Fred now." He almost pleaded, a frown of worry forming on his face.

"Sure— wait, now?" I stared at him in confusion.

"Sorry, I know it's late" his apology didn't mean he would ask me to do it in the morning instead.

I let out a sigh before inquiring, "Where's he?"

"The Astronomy tower, I believe." He replied.

"Alright," I said more to myself. "I'll go grab my jacket." He murmured another apology and a thank you before heading off to his House.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I came to a halt at the top of the stairs when I saw him sat against the wall, his knees pulled to his chest with his arms around them, and his face buried between them."Hey there, stranger."

He raised his head, letting his eyes and nose be seen."Who gave me away?"

"George."

"Tosser" he muttered, taking his gaze to the levitating bundle of newspaper on fire that was probably keeping him somewhat warm up there.

"Is it that bad to see me now?" I took a couple of careful steps towards the boy.

"It's always that bad to see you."

"Odd for you to say that," I let myself slide down the wall to sit by his side with my legs stretched out. "given how much you stare."

"Touché." He replied, the ghost of a smile breaking through his depressed demeanor. "What are you doing here?"

"What's wrong?"

"I asked first."

"I asked second." He raised his brows at me and it was my turn to avert my eyes from him. "I'm... Worried. About you."

When I shivered due to the wind flowing through the tower, he scooted closer and moved the little fire with his wand for it to be in the middle.

"You're all dejected and sulky," I explained. "You barely attend to our classes together, and if you do, you don't pay attention." I felt him shift uncomfortable by my side. "I'm... I'm gonna regret this— I miss you being a bloody nuisance."

"I knew you loved it." His teasing, though it was meant to be funny, sounded almost painful.

"now, what's wrong?" He shrugged, his chin resting over his forearms. "Listen, if you're not gonna tell me, it's fine, but at least tell George."

"Are you thick?" The bitterness in his tone took me aback. "Y/n, I fancy you." He hid his face between his arms. "quite a lot, actually." He added in a mumble.

"I figured that at the ball, you know?" This time it was me who scooted closer. "Tell me that's not the reason behind this."

"Would you like me to lie?" He questioned, shame slipping out with his voice. "I'm a very good liar you wouldn't even question it." He took a deep breath before looking back up, stretching one of his legs and leaning against the wall. "At the ball, I tried to start something." He began, fidgeting with his hands. "I... This never happened to me, so I wasn't- I didn't know what I was doing, but I thought I was making it clear." He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "But when I left you—"

"You know I fancy you too, right?" I tilted my head, searching for his eyes. "As in, more than a one time thing."

"That I didn't know." I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that unconsciously I had played a big part on this.

FRED'S P. O. V.

We stayed in silence.

It wasn't an unsettling silence, but the air weighed over us due to the tension floating on it; I needed to defuse it, otherwise it would crush me.

My heart hammered against my chest while I extended my arm to hold her hand on mine.

It's not meant to be nerve-wracking, I thought to myself as I pulled her hand away from her lap; we had already made clear we fancied each other.

The moment she put her head on my shoulder, the tension completely dissipated. I didn't notice the sigh that left my lungs when it happened.

"Didn't put you, Fred Weasley, in the I'm-a-bundle-of-nerves-with-girls category."

"Oh, shut it." I threw my head back, laughing for the first time in a couple of weeks.

"Never." She gave my hand a squeeze and I allowed my cheek to rest over her crown. "You could, of course, find a way to shut me up."

It wasn't her words that cracked me up, but the suggestive tone she used, which took me back to that night in the Duelling Room when I accidentally let slip my feelings for her for the first time.

I raised my head from hers. "Beg your pardon?" I played the fool, trying to hide the ghost of a smile when she shoot me a wide-eyed look. "What are you insinuating, woman?"

"Do you really wanna start the teasing now?" She gave me a warning glare.

"You've just said you missed it." I couldn't hold back the chuckle.

"I knew I was gonna regret it." She groaned, throwing her head back. My eyes, finally on her, traveled to her now exposed neck and collarbone. Though they weren't visible, I could see the trail of kisses I had left there just a few weeks ago. "Stop staring and kiss me."

It didn't take anything else for me to throw the levitating burning paper away and tug her closer by her hand.

The moment our mouths met, I slipped my hand away from Y/n's so I could led her thighs to straddle my legs.

A quiet moan escaped my lips when she rolled her hips against mines; my hands automatically traveled up from her thighs to her waist, pulling her flush against me.

The temperature in the high, cold tower had shot up all from sudden. Just as we were about to start discarding clothes, quick steps were heard climbing up the stairs.

"Fuck!" She whisper-shouted, practically pushing me away as she got up. "Move, move, move!" As she helped me up and we ran to hide, it dawned on me that we were way past curfew. That got me moving.

We waited for Filch to get to the top of the tower before running down as fast as we could.

"No time for goodbyes!" she warned as we rushed through the vast hallways with Filch after us. "See you tomorrow—"

Before she could sprint downstairs to the dungeons, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into a side hall.

"You won't make it to the dungeons." I stated between pants, glancing at the path we had taken. I wasn't able to see the caretaker yet, but his pants could be heard. "Take the other stairs I'll distract him."

"You'll get grounded." She observed, her breathing as heavy as mine, if not more.

"Worth it." I curtly reply, feeling the corners of my lips twisting up.

"You know?" She pushed herself off the wall she had leaned against to catch her breath. "Sometimes you're really sweet."

"Quick!" I tugged on her hand, seeing Filch finally turn the corner. "Gimme a good luck kiss!"

She pulled me down and kissed my lips briefly before taking off in the other direction. I had to tell myself to shake off that stupid smile and run.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

The next morning I eagerly made my way to the Great Hall with two goals; having breakfast, of course, and checking if Fred had made it to his House without getting caught.

I soon spotted the group, this time sitting on the Slytherin table.

Soon his eyes found me too, and without saying a word to anyone, he got up and jogged to meet me halfway.

"Did you make it?" I asked, standing way too close to him and therefore attracting some nosey looks.

"By a whisker." He responded, taking a look around before looking back at me. "I was wondering if you'd like to go for a drink after class." I raised my eyebrows at him with a smirk. "We can use a passage to get to Hogsmade."

"Are you asking me on a proper date, Weasley?" I teased with my hands on my hips. "How cute."

He avoided eye contact, deciding to take another look around instead. "I swear if you tease me right now—"

"I'm free after four." I cut him off. "Now if you excuse me, I'm hungry." I passed him by, playfully bumping his shoulder, and made my way to our friends.

I didn't get far before his hands spun me around and cupped my cheeks, giving me a surprisingly deep kiss. "Are you gonna kill me?" He murmured, his lips still ghosting over mines.

"Oh, you know me so well." I replied, feeling my face heating up. We couldn't help but laugh when whistles and hollers came from behind me. "I might kill them too." I added, making fall into a fit of laughter as we pulled away in order to walk to where our friends sat. "I wanna have breakfast in peace." I warned them, sitting down with Fred by my side.

Everyone was giving looks at each other and trying to hold back the giggles, so I knew a comment was coming, but not from whom.

I could instantly tell I wasn't the only one shocked by the speaker. "But you just had him for breakfast." My best friend responded, faking confusion.

"I was just thinking about that!" Lee yelled, a bit too excited.

"Mathilda Foxglove—" I began, everyone cracking up.

"You are doomed." Fred finished, shoving a toast into his mouth to stop his laughter.

"It was worth it." She stated between giggles.

Fred gave me a side look with a half smile and I thanked Merlin no one could see the boy's fingers interlaced with mines under the table.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley #fred x you #fred x slytherin reader #fred x y/n #fred and goerge weasley #fred and george #harry potter and the triwizard tournament #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #triwizard tournament #triwizard au #goblet of fire #fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley smut #fred smut

[iballisticcatt]

Old and New Friends

Note: Some of this writing is not my own.  rainbows-fanfics let me have a draft and create this. Thanks!

Louis’ POV

It had been a bit over a year since the Delta. Violet had started to get social again and Willy ended up making a prosthetic for Clementine. Life had been good, great even. I was in the piano room, playing away anything I could remember or any sheet music I found before the other music room burnt down. The door creaked open and scared me, making me jump and scream like a girl. Clementine came in laughing.

“That scream was amazing Louis,” Clementine chuckled, “Do it again!”

I became defensive but playful, “I was in the middle of playing piano when that door decided to creak in the middle of me playing!” 

Clem made her way over to the bench and sat down on my left, putting her head on my shoulder.

“I was thinking back to that card game we played when I first got here. You remember when I talked about that baseball player I met?” Clem seemed to be a bit brighter than usual as she spoke.

I responded, clawing into my memory to see if I could recollect, “Very, very vaguely.”

“Well, I was wondering if we could take a trip down there, the wars going on in the area are sure to have died down by this point, and Javi would be glad to see me. It’s where Richmond used to be, It’s called New Richmond, It is pretty far from here, but we can make good time if we find a car. It’s 300 miles from here to there. It should be about a week’s walk from here.” Clementine seemed excited at the prospect of seeing these people again, how could I say no to a face like that?

“Sounds like a hard trip, but I’m in. Who’s coming with us?” 

Clem smirked and looked right into my eyes, “Just us.”

That was unexpected, to say the least, but I was all for it. I nodded and smiled at the thought of being alone with her for so long. We both got up and went outside and explained the idea to everyone. Clem did most of the talking while I sat there and looked dumb. The idea eventually passed through and everyone helped us pack, we were going to head out in two days.

The two days passed, and with several goodbyes from A.J and Violet hugging me out of nowhere, we were off. Those days on the road were harder than I had ever expected, it only made me feel more guilty for leaving Clem and A.J to die in the forest, before the Delta. They were also some of the best. The cuddle sessions were amazing by the fire each day as one of us was on watch while the other slept. Seven days on the road and we finally arrived at gates with spikes on the ends of it and a control platform above it. As I first saw the gate, my mind forced me to blurt out, “This gives off medal music vibes to me.” Clem chuckled and said simply, “That���s kinda the point, don’t you think?” I replied quickly, “Yep.” As we approached the gates we saw a boy in an orange beanie, tallish, and holding an AK-47. 

Clem yelled out at the boy, “GUESS WHO’S BACK GABE?”

The boy jumped and looked at us, gun raised, then lowered it after looking a bit longer.

“Clementine? Is that seriously you?” The boy seemed shocked and happy

“In the flesh.”

The gates opened as Gabe came out and approached, I was walking beside Clem as the boy came and eyed me.

“Who are you?” He asked, strength in his voice.

“I am Louis, Clem’s boyfriend, she wanted me to meet you and Javier. I’ve heard about you guys from her.” I replied with strength above his own, subconsciously asserting my dominance over him.

His face dropped a bit at this realization. The face he made confused me a bit, but I brushed it off as Gabe spoke, “Well Clem, You are always welcome here to New Richmond, so let’s come in and find Kate and Javi, I’m sure they will be as glad to see you as I am and meet a new face.”

We were guided through the gates and a clang followed as they shut, seeming to trap us here. I hoped they wouldn’t kill us, I was sure they wouldn’t though. We followed a road down through the city, the buildings tall and unlike something I had seen since I was ten. We stopped in front of an apartment complex, the building standing tall with a raven or a crow standing in the front. We entered the building and climbed a flight of stairs before arriving at a door.

“Well, here is their apartment, I need to go back and get on watch, have fun.”

I quipped and smirked, “We certainly will!”

Clem looked at me and turned bright red, “Louis!” 

I just chuckled and knocked on the door three times. We waited for a second before the door opened and a tall man with black, moppy hair and a beard opened the door.

“Guess who’s back?”

“Clementine?”

A woman’s voice came from inside the house, “Wait, are you talking to Clementine? Is she back?”

The man, whom I assumed to be Javier, called back and said excitedly, “Yeah, it is! I can’t believe it! Wait, who is this?”

Clem responded, warmness in her voice, “Javi, this is my boyfriend Louis! Been with him a year and I adore him, I brought him along to meet you guys.”

Javier eyed me before sticking his hand out, I took it in kind, giving a firm grip to return his own. 

“Well come on in, Kate can’t wait to see you, Clem!” Javi seemed to be ultra excited, it had been a while since they had seen another. 

The one I assumed to be Kate stood up, her bangs split into thirds on her head with a braid in the back. She hugged Clementineshe was caring before eying me.

“Who might you be?” Kate seemed slightly concerned at my presence, her protective mode seemingly kicking in.

I replied, trying to defuse the tension, “I, am Louis, Clementine’s boyfriend.” I laid a kiss on Clem’s forehead as Kate relaxed a bit.

Javier spoke up, “Well, the last time I saw Clem she had the personality of an aggressive rock.”

I laughed, too long for Clementine’s liking. 

“I can’t imagine her like anything else but a teddy bear!” I replied between laughs and wheezes. Man, I like this guy already. 

A knock came back to the door, Three taps. Javi moved over to the door and there stood Gabe.

Gabe spoke, “My watch shift just ended, figured I’d hang out with you guys.” 

Javi looked over at Clem, “Well Clem, Kate and I would like to show you some of the newer things here in New Richmond,” Javi turned to face me, “You sure you’ll be okay with Gabe here?”

I replied with humor, “Of course, I have to be on my best behavior for my teddy bear here!”

Clementine punched my arm and chuckled. 

Kate entered the room, “We’ll get going, see you guys in a bit.”

They left without another word, stranding me with Gabe. We turned to face each other and I gave him an honest grin, nodding once in his direction. He smiled and awkwardly copied the gesture. We were then left in silence, our eye contact slipping as neither of us dared to start talking. I twiddled my thumbs under the table as I thought of what to say.

"So..." I whistled under my breath. "You're an old friend of Clem's?"

He looked surprised as I started speaking, but nodded in regards to the question. "Yeah, you could say that."

"How do you know her?" I pressed.

This may be awkward, but I was least getting to know him some more. I felt that was appropriate to do in this time frame until Clem got back. Gabe looked startled before going quiet, staring at the table and messing with his cuticles in thought. He looked up and shrugged, not bothering to make eye contact with me.

"Clementine helped us with overrunning the New Frontier. I helped her with some things and Javi said we made a great team together. Whether it was taking out walkers or playing a card game. She was just nice to be around."

I arched my eyebrow in interest. "Card games?"

"Oh, yeah, I, uh, taught her one." He squeezed his eyes shut before opening them again. "I think it was euchre."

"How about you and I play one, then?" I offered, grabbing the deck out of my usual pocket and holding it in my hands. "While we wait for them to get back, of course."

His eyes lit up. A good sign. "Shit? You carry a deck around with you, too?"

"You bet! Never know when the opportunity is gonna' come. I find that card games help lighten the mood." I dealt him a pile. "How about we play...war? Easy and shouldn't take that long."

"You seem to have a lot of confidence," He commented as he took his pile. I shrugged.

We started by focusing on the game first, easing into it by dealing with our cards. We had the same rank right out of the bat and, after turning them over, I found Gabe had the higher cards. I winched watching him take them and tuck them under his pile. Not a great start on my end, but I was sure I'd be doing better as the game progressed. We did a couple more rounds before I decided to speak again, clearing my throat.

"You said Clem was fun to be around with. Why's that?" His eyes looked into mine. They were too tense, so I followed it with a joke. "Didn't she, like, scare you? She has this aura about her, doesn't she? Freaked me out when I first met her."

"Oh, yeah." He gave a pitiful laugh. "I thought she hated me. Didn't think she'd ever talk to me."

"Right?" I laughed along. "I thought she'd stab me in my sleep when I first met her."

"She's intimidating, but I think that's why I liked her, you know? She's...interesting, once you get to know her."

He wore a shy smile as he flipped his card. I didn't say anything about it, not even when I won the round and took the cards. Gabe was right, after all. Clementine was a tough shell to crack, but when you got to know her, she was caring. To those, she liked, anyway. I admired her toughness as much as the next guy, and as much as it fazed me, I still didn't let it stop me from flirting with her.

"You're pretty good," He told me. I nodded back to him.

"You, too."

"So, Louis, uh..." He drummed his fingers against the table. "How do you know Clem? How did you guys meet exactly?"

"I think it was about a year ago. My friend, Marlon, found her and A.J. in a car crash near our boarding school. They treated Clem, but A.J. was a lot to handle without her there. He didn't exactly warm up to us at first. He was giving my friend Ruby a lot of issues. He even bit her on the hand just because she walked up from behind him."

"Oh, shit." Gabe cringed. I nodded and followed with a shrug.

"Yeah, well, I calmed him down by playing the piano. I don't know how long it was until Clem came into the room and met with him again. When she told me her name, I couldn't help it." A shit-eating grin grew on my face. "When she asked for another song, I sang her 'Oh My Darlin' Clementine'."

"How did she feel about that? She'd have punched me."

"She told me she loved that song. So I kept playing. I thought it would get on her nerves but it didn't. Not like that's an issue; I've found other ways to get under her skin."

I saw I had won the round and collected my share. By this point, we were getting closer to the end of the game. I was winning right now; Gabe's pile got smaller while we were talking. I grinned as we flipped over our next set of cards, hoping to get this meaningless victory just so I'd have something to talk about later. I noticed Gabe's sudden silence and glanced up. He was staring at his cards, a troubled expression on his face.

"Sorry, I meant to go easy but my cards were just too good." I rubbed my hand along my coat conceitedly.

He looked up in surprise. How do I manage to keep startling him just by talking? Either that or he was spacing out a lot. "O-Oh, uh, I was just...thinking."

"Well, then. Penny for your thoughts? They're not back yet and, as good as I am at winning, the game isn't exactly over just yet."

"Yeah." He chuckled nervously, watching as I won the round again. "I, uh...I was just wondering something. Like, um, how you and Clem are...together." His hesitation made me quirk an eyebrow. "The last time I saw her, she was really serious and kind of, well, hard at times. You're the exact opposite. How did she...fall for you, exactly?"

My eyes widened in surprise. I wasn't sure how to respond to that question. Juggling the card box in my hand, I thought about it seriously for a moment. "Well, I guess making her laugh a lot helped."

"How do you do that, though? It was hard just to get her to smile when I last with her." His frown deepened. "But you do it so easily...you don't even have to say anything and she still smiles."

"Heh." My chest warmed at that. "I don't know, honestly. It's usually me making a stupid joke and just hoping someone will laugh. If she finds it funny, she'll laugh."

His look didn't change. "Yeah. That makes sense."

It grew tense as we ended the game, all the cards in my pile. I expected to feel triumphant for winning, but the look on his face made me feel guilty for naturally doing so good at the game. I knitted my eyebrows together as I stuffed the cards back in, wondering what went wrong in our conversation. As I closed the lid and slid it back in my pocket, I faced him again.

"Well, that was fun! We should play another after dinner." It encouraged me to see him nod slightly. "I'm sure Clem will want to join, too."

He perked up. "Really?"

I wondered why he reacted that way so quickly. Before I question anything about it, we heard footsteps coming. Gabe smiled looking past me and stood from his seat, moving faster than I could get off of the bench. The door opened as we saw Clem, Kate, and Javier coming in. They were smiling, but I could tell just from the look on Clementine's face that there was something important. Gabe greeted them and I followed behind, slipping my hand into Clem's.

"You guys are back quicker than I thought," Gabe commented.

"Everyone's doing their job. We just checked in on things. We saw Jesus too." Javi explained. "What have you and Louis been up to?"

"We played a short game of war."

"And I won. Naturally." I added. Clem shoved my side as she rolled her eyes. I noticed Gabe watching us intently through the corner of my eye. As I turned, he faced his uncle.

"I can help you get everyone for dinner. And set things up."

"Thanks, Gabriel." 

Dinner was a blur, everything blends together when everyone is laughing. The next day Clementine and I left, giving our goodbyes. I was sad to go, Gabe was a cool dude, but that’s just how it goes. Seven days later and A.J tackles Clementine and then me. We were home.

#clouis #louistine #gabe #kate #javier #a.j #violet #louis #clementine

[cauliflowercounty]

Firsts (Harry Potter x Reader)

House: You Choose

Blood Status:  You Choose

Request: Hi!! Do you think you could write a Harry Potter x reader where they are friends with the trio and Harry says something funny and mid laugh reader casually says “I love you” in a platonic way and Harry gets quiet bc he’s never heard anyone say that before and the reader makes a note to tell him every day that he is loved and it eventually becomes more?????? It came to my mind at work and I can’t stop thinking about it. Thank you so so much💕

A/n

-----

Tossing his book bag to the side, Ron huffs as he sits down next to Harry and Hermione.  He’s obviously in a tizzy.  He runs his hands through his hair, breathing out heavily trying to defuse his anxiety.

“What’s wrong, Ron?” you ask as you approach the group, knowing something must have happened to reduce Ron to such a state.

“It’s Malfoy and his cretins again,” Ron grumbles.  “They were on Ginny and me about how our family is dirt and we’ll never get anything in life because our father is poor.  The usual.  He also told us something along the lines of ‘I, unlike you, am not a disgrace to wizards and purebloods, so he has the right to tell us off.  He’s an absolute rotten git.”

“Ignore him Ron,” Hermione retorts.  “The rise he gets out of you is what he wants.  He’s just seeking attention.  If you ignore him he’ll find someone else to mess with.”  

“Good point, Hermione, but he never seems to move on.  I’m so tired of Malfoy.  It’s been years at this point,” you add.  “I would think he would have run out of things to say about us.  It’s like someone’s feeding him insults to use.”

“You think Draco’s imaginative enough to come up with new material all the time? His head’s full of dry, old, expired Christmas pudding from last year and sand.  His dear old daddy, Lucius, is his source,” Harry quips, prompting a you to crack up laughing.

“Oh my god, Harry! That’s too accurate. I absolutely love you!” you say through your giggles, trying to get a hold of yourself. Harry just stares at you, a bit taken a back. As soon as you see the look on his face, you freeze and your laughter ceases.  “Uh oh,” you think.

Hermione and Ron have noticed the sudden stop.

“Harry?” You ask softly, a look of worry spreading over your face. “Did I say something wrong?”

“N-no, y/n,” Harry stutters, shaking just head quickly, trying to ease the tension and your nervousness. He gets up quickly and takes your hand, pulling you aside and down the hall to an empty classroom. Hermione and Ron give each other a look as you both disappear from sight.

As soon as you’re alone with Harry, he takes a deep breath. You’re officially scared. You’ve been friends with Harry for a long time and you know if he pulls you aside somewhere to have a private conversation, it’s serious. Most often, it’s about dangerous or he’s going to break the rules again and he needs your help. Harry notices the apprehension in your stance and the look on your face easily.

“Sorry, y/n, if I’ve scared you at all,” Harry starts. “It’s just what you said...”

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask. As soon as you say that the realization dawns on you. “It was the ‘I love you’ wasn’t it? Did it make you uncomfortable? Oh, God. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Harry. It was meant to be like a friendly ‘I love you.’ It won’t h-!”

“No, no, no!” Harry says as quickly as he hears what you’re saying. “It’s not that... it didn’t bother me at all. It was actually... welcome, if I’m honest. It’s just I don’t hear it a lot. The Dursley’s weren’t really the cuddliest of people towards me.”

You nod in agreement, and Harry looks into your eyes as if to say thank you.

“Oh, Harry.  I’m so sorry.  Well, you deserve to hear it, Harry,” you smile.  “You should be hearing it all the time.”

“Thanks, y/n,” Harry grins as you bring him into a hug.  He sighs as he wraps his arms around you in return, a warm tingly feeling glowing in his chest.  As you break away, you giggle a bit.  Harry looks down at his scuffed up trainers in the cute, shy way he does when he’s a bit nervous or there’s an awkward pause.

“Come on, Harry,” you say finally.  “Hermione and Ron are all alone.  We should get back before they get in a fight and Hermione resorts to calling him ‘Ronald’ and he’s ignoring her at every turn.”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckles as you grab his hand and pull him away.  “They’re pretty lost without us.”

~

After your private conversation with Harry, you had been thinking about what he’d said.  You felt sad that just casually saying “i love you” had had such an effect on Harry.  It had made him shocked and surprised, which was a bit heart breaking but at the same time understandable because of his upbringing.  From that day forth, you had made a commitment to coming up to Harry and telling him he’s loved or cared for.  You made sure to do it in moments where there weren’t a lot of people around, especially the Slytherins because Harry’d never see the end of it if Draco and his posse overheard.  Plus, it was something between the two of you and not for the world.

In your opinion, your endeavor was highly successful. The first two or three times, it caught Harry off guard and you could sense he felt on the spot, but you always lightened the mood with a good talk over a butterbeer or some sort of magical sweet.  After a while, Harry got more and more used to hearing “I love you” and not before long, he began to smile very time you said it, even looking forward to it daily.  He’d wonder when you’d say it each day and you never failed to tell him.

You also enjoyed telling him “i love you” from day to day.  it was like a little moment that would was guaranteed to make you smile no matter what.  Even if the day was horrible, that one interaction with harry would make it all better because of the look on his face.  The way his cheeks grow slightly pink and how wide his smile gets was always a little treat.  It made you happy to see Harry like this.

After about a month and a half of this, you’d noticed a new pattern in Harry’s behavior every time you’d come into the room and not just when you were saying your daily “i love you.” He’d now become bashful and fiddle with his quill or the hem of his clothes. When Harry was nervous usually, he’d grip his wand tightly or stare off in front of him as if he had some sort of purpose or direction. Clenching his fist was a good tell for Harry’s nervousness or anxiety level, but  this was different.

Finally, your concern overtook you and now you’re facing Harry in and abandoned classroom.

“Harry?” you say looking straight at him.  “What’s been going on?  I’ve noticed you acting different around me.  When I first started this “I love you thing,” I checked with you and you said that you were okay with it.  Did that change?  You know I respect your boundaries and if you want me to stop I will.  Please just communicate with me?  The last thing I want to do is destroy our friendship.”

“Y/n,” Harry says, reaching out and gripping you by your arms to try to calm you.  He could tell you were about to start rambling.  “Like I said, I’m not uncomfortable.  It’s okay.  I just... I guess now’s a good time to say what I’ve been thinking....”

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.  “Whatever you’re about to say to me sounds serious.”

“I-i...,” Harry trails off, taking his hands back and placing them on his hips.  He exhales deeply and turns away for a second.  Something must be looming over him. A moment later, he turns back and readjusts himself. “I just wanted to tell you... No. I’m just going to come out with it.  I like it when you tell me “i love you,” y/n.  It really makes my day.”

“I’m so glad you feel that way, Harry,” you respond, your heart warming knowing that what you’re doing is making Harry feel good.

“It’s just changed something for me...  How I see you... and how I feel about you,” he admits anxiously.  “I get so happy when you come up to me and I’ve realized that I want to hear that all the time, but I want you to mean it, mean it and not just say it because you’re my friend and I should hear that people love me more often.”

“Oh, Harry,” you gasp, not ever expecting this would be how this conversation would evolve.

“That’s why I’ve been acting different around you.  I’ve been wrestling with this,” Harry explains. “For as long you’ve been saying this, it’s just been a nice gesture, and I don’t know if I can take it if that’s how it’s always going to be.  Each time you come up, I get this feeling I want you to be closer to me.  I... y/n I want us to be more than friends, but ‘us’ seems like an impossibility, and each time you’ve come up to me for the past few weeks, I’ve been considering distancing myself to spare myself the heartache. That’s why I’ve been acting strange.”

Initially, you’re shocked and surprised, but you smile at him and rush forward and wrap him up in a tight hug.  

“Is that how you really feel, Harry?” you murmur over his shoulder into his ear, and you feel him nod.  “That’s a relief because in the last few weeks, I’ve been feeling different about you. too.  It makes me happy to see you smile.  I love your company and I want you around all the time.  I’ve meant every ‘I love you’ I’ve said for weeks.  I feel the same way.”

You both pull back and look into each other’s eyes and break out into laughter, grinning like idiots.

“So... I guess we’ve been thinking the same thing for weeks and we never once addressed it?” you chuckle.

“I guess so,” Harry nods.  You shake you head with another laugh building in your chest.

“How come other couples make getting together out to be so much easier, but it takes us weeks to figure out what’s going on?” you ask with a fake exasperated sigh. 

“I don’t know, but we got there in the end,” Harry concludes as he takes your hand in his.  “Let’s go, y/n.  We should be getting back.”

“So we’re... together now?” you ask, still in disbelief.  “Just like that?”

“No.  We’ve been demoted to acquaintances.  This interaction was way too much for our teenage brains to handle.  Of course we are!” Harry jokes.  “But only if you want to, y/n.”

“Okay, okay.  Stop stalling and beating around the bush.  I like you, Harry,” you state.  “and you admitted you like me AND said you wanted us to be together.  I also said that, too.  Now, by the law of mutual confessions, we are now obligated to try to be together or are in fact together. Do you object to this logic?”

“Not at all,” Harry replies, laughing at your formality.  He smiles at you and slowly leans in, bringing his lips inches away from your own.  “Is this okay?”

You nod at him and he closes the gap,  You close your eyes.  The kiss is perfect and gentle. As your heart leaps in your chest, Harry wraps his free arm around you.  Breaking away after a few blissful moments, Harry grins at you.

“Hermione and Ron are going to have a field day when we tell them,” you whisper to him.

“Don’t remind me,” Harry mumbles. “That’s a problem for later,” he sighs, going back in for one more kiss, and you and Harry are finally on the same wavelength.  This has been a long time coming.

#Harry Potter #golden trio era #harry potter x reader #y/n #hp #hp fanfic

[oscopelabs]

Elvis, Truelove and the Stolen Boy: The Tragic Machismo of Nick Cassavetes’ ‘Alpha Dog’ by Amy Nicholson

[Last year, Musings paid homage to Produced and Abandoned: The Best Films You’ve Never Seen, a review anthology from the National Society of Film Critics that championed studio orphans from the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the days before the Internet, young cinephiles like myself relied on reference books and anthologies to lead us to films we might not have discovered otherwise. Released in 1990, Produced and Abandoned was a foundational piece of work, introducing me to such wonders as Cutter’s Way, Lost in America, High Tide, Choose Me, Housekeeping, and Fat City. (You can find the full list of entries here.) Our first round of Produced and Abandoned essays included Angelica Jade Bastién on By the Sea, Mike D’Angelo on The Counselor, Judy Berman on Velvet Goldmine, and Keith Phipps on O.C. and Stiggs. Today, Musings concludes our month-long round of essays about tarnished gems, in the hope they’ll get a second look. Or, more likely, a first. —Scott Tobias, editor.]

A decade before the presidency that elevated insults like “betacuck” and “soyboy” into political discourse, Nick Cassavetes made Alpha Dog, a cautionary tragedy about masculinity that audiences ignored. Time for a reappraisal. Alpha Dog is about a real murder. Over a three-day weekend in August of 2000, 15-year-old Zach Mazursky—in reality, named Nicholas Markowitz—is kidnapped and killed by the posse of 20-year-old San Fernando Valley drug dealer Johnny Truelove (Emile Hirsch) with a grudge against Zach’s older brother. No one thought the boy would die, not his main babysitter Frankie (Justin Timberlake), not the girls invited to party with “Stolen Boy,” and not even the boy himself, played with naive perfection by Anton Yelchin, who played video games and pounded beers assuming that his new captor-friends would eventually take him home.

Cassavetes’ daughter went to the same high school as Nicholas Markowitz. The murderers were neighborhood kids and he wanted to understand how fortunate sons with their whole lives ahead of them wound up in prison. The trigger man, Ryan Hoyt—“Elvis” in the film—had never even gotten a speeding ticket. Prosecutor Ron Zonen hoped the publicity around Alpha Dog would help the public spot the real-life Johnny, named Jesse James Hollywood, who was still on the lam despite being one of America’s Most Wanted. So the lawyers gave Cassavetes access to everything: crime scene photos, trial transcripts, psychological profiles, police reports, and their permission to contact the criminals and their parents. Cassavetes even took his actors to meet their counterparts, driving Justin Timberlake to a maximum security prison to get the vibe of the actual Frankie, and introducing Sharon Stone to Nicholas Markowitz’s mother, a broken woman who attempted suicide a dozen times in the years after her son's death.

Alpha Dog, pronounced Cassavetes, was “95 percent accurate.” Which was part of why it got buried, thanks to Jesse James Hollywood’s arrest just weeks after the film wrapped. Cassavetes hastily wrote a new ending to the movie, but his problems were just beginning. Hollywood’s lawyers insisted Alpha Dog would prevent their client from getting a fair trial, and used the threat of a mistrial to force Zonen off the case. “I don't know what Zonen was thinking, handing over the files,” gloated Hollywood’s defense team. “It was stupid.”

The publicity, and the delays, dragged out the pain for Markowitz’s family, especially when they heard Cassavetes had paid Hollywood’s father an, er, consulting fee. “Where is the justice in that?” asked the victim's brother. “This just goes on and on, and I’m spending my whole life in a courtroom.”

The film, too, was pushed back a year from its Sundance premiere. Despite casting a visionary young ensemble—Alpha Dog was my own introduction to Yelchin, Ben Foster, Olivia Wilde, Amanda Seyfried, Amber Heard, and the realization that Timberlake, that kid from N*SYNC, could actually act—no one noticed when it slid into theaters in January of 2007. It wasn’t just the bad press. It was that audiences couldn’t get past that Cassavetes’ last film was The Notebook. No way could the guy behind the biggest romantic weepy of a generation make something raw and cool.

But he had. Alpha Dog is a stunning movie about machismo and fate, two tag-team traits that destroy lives. Think Oedipus convincing himself he can outwit the oracle of Delphi. But Sophocles’ Oedipus telegraphs its intentions, elbowing the audience to see the end at the beginning. Greeks sitting down in 405 BC knew they were watching a tale that came full circle. Every step Oedipus takes away from his patricidal destiny just moves him closer to it.

If you map Alpha Dog’s script, instead of a loop, it looks like a horizontal line that plummets off a cliff. For most of its running time, Alpha Dog could pass for a coming-of-age flick where a sheltered kid with an over-protective mom (Sharon Stone) taps into his own self-confidence, right up until the scene where he tumbles into his own grave. Audiences who’d missed the news articles about the case weren’t clued into the climax. Cassavetes doesn’t offer any hints or flash-forwards, not even an ominous “based-on-a-true-story.” (The film might have been more successful if he had.) Instead, he lulls you into joining the kegger, watching Zach crack open beer after beer as though he expects to live forever. “There’s a movie sensibility that the film doesn’t conform to,” said Cassavetes. “You don’t watch this film. You endure it.”

As Zach, his eyes red-rimmed from bong rips, not tears, is shuttled between party dens and wealthy homes, he’s given several chances to escape. He’s even revealed to be a Tae Kwan Do blackbelt who can jokingly flip his captor-buddy Frankie (Justin Timberlake) into a bathtub. But Zach stays put—he doesn’t want to get his big brother Jake (Ben Foster) in more trouble, not realizing that Johnny is too busy making nervous phone calls to his lawyer and his aggro father Sonny (Bruce Willis) to get around to asking Jake for the $1200 in ransom money.

Zach’s death is disorienting, almost as if Psycho's Marion Crane got murdered in the second-to-last reel. In a minivan en route to his execution, he innocently tells Frankie he wants learn to play guitar. “It bugs me that I don’t know how to do anything,” he sighs. Meanwhile Johnny assures his dad that there’s no need to call off the killing. “These guys are such fuck-ups, nothing's gonna happen,” he shrugs, a rare example of cross-cutting that defuses tension in order to make the shock of the gunfire even worse. Up until the last second—even after Frankie binds him with duct tape—a sobbing Zach still can’t believe Frankie would hurt him, and honestly, Frankie can’t believe it himself. And Yelchin’s own early death makes you ache for him to get a happy ending, which Cassavetes dangles just out of reach.

This is how evil happens, says Cassavetes. Masterminds are rare. Instead, people like Frankie can be basically good, but can also be panicky and passive and selfish. Shoving Zach in Johnny’s van was an idiotic impulse by upper middle-class kids, who flipped out when they realized the snatching could get them a lifetime sentence. There’s no honor or glory in the violence. Johnny, the cowardly ringleader, talks tough, but orders his most craven friend, Elvis (Shawn Hatosy), to pull the trigger while he and his girlfriend Angela (Olivia Wilde) get drunk on margaritas. And after the murder, one side effect is that Johnny can’t get an erection. When Angela tries to get Johnny in the mood in their hideout motel, the walls close in on him, suffocating the mood.  

Away from his boys, Johnny is weak. Surrounded by them, he's the king. Alpha Dog sets up a culture of animalistic dominance. Johnny’s rental house is basically a primate cage at the zoo, only decorated with weight benches and Scarface posters. All of Johnny’s boys jockey to be his favorite and tear each other down in order to bump up their own rank. Kindness is weakness. When a fellow dealer with the ridiculous nickname Bobby 911 cruises by to negotiate a sale, he snarls at a guy who vouches for him: “You don’t need to tell him I’m good for it, man!”

Elvis, the future shooter, is the lowest member of the pack. He can’t ease into the group without Johnny ordering him to go pick up his pit-bull's poop in the backyard. Why do they pick on Elvis? He owes Johnny a bit of money, but the source of the scorn is simply group think. No one wants to be nice to the outcast, and Elvis is just too sincere to be taken seriously. When Elvis offers to get Johnny a beer, the guys tease him for being in love with Johnny. When he says sure, he does care about Johnny, they twist words into a gay panic joke. Elvis can’t win—they won’t let him—so he literally kills to prove his worth, and winds up sentenced to death row, where the real boy, just 21 at the time of the shooting, remains today. Another life wasted.

Cassavetes humanizes the killers because he wants us to understand how their micro decisions add up to murder. Not just the gunmen. Everyone’s a little to blame. The kids who got drunk with “Stolen Boy” and didn’t call the police. The girls who told Zach that being kidnapped made him sexy. Even Zach’s older step-brother Jake, an addict with a twitchy temper who escalates his war with Johnny to a fatal breaking point. Neither boy will back down over a $1200 debt, and there’s an awful split screen call when Johnny dials Jake intending to bring Zach home, but Jake is so boiling over with anger, his Bugs Bunny voice shrieking with outrage, that Johnny just hangs up the phone.

The opening credits, a montage of the cast’s own old home videos, underline that these were young and happy children—the kind of kids people point to as examples of the suburban American ideal. Over a treacly cover of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” we watch these real life boys being cultured to be brave: riding bikes, falling off dive-boards, running around with toy guns, going through the rituals of young manhood, from bar mitzvahs to karate lessons. Yelchin—recognizably dark-eyed and solemn even as a toddler—grins wearing plastic vampire teeth.

It takes another ten minutes for Yelchin’s character to sneak into the film sideways in a profile shot eating dinner with his parents, played by Sharon Stone and David Thornton. His Zach is barely even visible as brash Jake barges into the scene to beg for money. They say no, Jake stomps out, and Zach finally makes himself seen when he runs after his brother, begging to go anywhere less suffocating. Zach’s mom loves him so much that she watches him sleep. “I’m not fucking eight!” he yelps. He’s 15—practically a man, in his own imagination—and desperate to get away, even if it means mimicking Jake, a Jewish kid who’s so scrambled that he has a Hebrew tattoo on his clavicle and a swastika inked on his back. Jake starts to say that he wishes his own mom cared about him that much, but as soon as he gets vulnerable, he spins the moment into a joke. “Boo for me,” Jake grins, and takes another swig of beer.

“You could say it’s about drugs or guns or disaffected youth, but this whole thing is about parenting,” grunts Bruce Willis’ Sonny Truelove. “It’s about taking care of your children. You take care of yours, I take care of mine.” He’s half-right—his parenting is half to blame. Sonny and his best friend Cosmo (Harry Dean Stanton) taught Johnny to bully his friends. Cosmo, looking haggard and hollow, mocks Johnny for having one girlfriend. “You gotta plow some fucking fields,” he bellows. “Men are not supposed to be monopolous!” Not that “monopolous” is a real word, and not that Cosmo fends off women himself, except in his own big talk.

Cosmo and Sonny’s own posturing gradually emerges as being more dangerous than Johnny’s because it's more integrated into society. They’re the type of creeps who rewrite the rulebook to suit them, and attack journalists who try to tell the truth. When a fictitious documentarian asks Sonny about his son's drug connections, the father shrugs, “Did he sell a little weed? Sure.” But when the interviewer presses him further, Sonny snaps, “I’m a taxpayer and I’m a citizen and you are a jerk-off.”

Cassavetes, of course, understands growing up with a father who left a giant footprint to fill. His father, John Cassavetes, the writer-director of Shadows and Faces and A Woman Under the Influence, was one of the major pioneers of independent cinema. He died when Nick was 30, before his son attempted to take up his legacy. “We never really talked film theory,” said Cassavetes. “My experience with my dad was more along the lines of how to be a man, how to be yourself, how to free yourself from what society tells you to do, how to release yourself as an artist.”

It makes sense that Cassavetes would make his own ambitious, and maddeningly singular film. And perhaps it even makes sense to him that fate has yet to give him the reward he’s earned. Alpha Dog deserves to be acknowledged as one of the most incisive examinations of machismo and the banality of evil. But like his fumbling criminals, he knows he’s not really in charge of his life. Admitted Cassavetes, “I'm not smart enough to really have a master plan for my career.”

#alpha dog #alpha dog movie #nick cassavetes #john cassavetes #justin timberlake #emile hirsch #ben foster #amanda seyfried #olivia wilde #Nicholas Markowitz #Bruce Willis #Harry Dean Stanton #Oscilloscope Laboratories #O-Scope #musings #film writing

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Loyalty || Drabble

Listen I’ve been trying to write this fucking thing for like a month I’m just done with it now on every conceivable level of the term. Shout out to this songtrack for finally helping me finish this thing Summary: Things get a little more feels-y when Reid and Cleo have to subdue an unsub on Cleo’s hometurf of Connecticut.

Warnings: Gun violence, bruising mention, discussions about the aftermath of losing a love one, death

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”

― Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

 “Are these movies ever going to explain why these people only seem interested in murder on the night of the purge?”

Rolling her eyes at another scene in the movie, Cleo popped some popcorn into her mouth and settled back into the couch. She turned to look at Reid, who seemed equally confused at the movie. Truth be told; she was happy that she convinced him to have a movie night with her, even if most of the night was spend critiquing the movies for their decisions.

“I find it hard to believe that having a Purge somehow ensures that people reign themselves in for the rest of the year. They don’t take spree killers or escalation into mind; that just doesn’t go away because these people get a wild card once a year.”

“I’d go for the “get out of jail free” card but I suppose you play poker more than you do monopoly.”

Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle at that, shaking his head as he turned back to the movie. It felt good to be out of his own home but not necessarily dragged away to some public location; he was grateful Cleo seemed to understand that better than anyone else. Probably because she was just as introverted as him.

“I mean really; no theft, no looting, no fraud… it’s like the entire white collar division of the FBI is obsolete in this world. Nor are these murderers as diverse as they are in our job so I guess in this world the BAU could do their job with like, two people at most?”

“Considering crime is at an all-time low throughout the rest of the year these people don’t even really have a need for a lot of first aid responders. Just a couple for accidental injuries and the like.”

They commented on a few other scenes, joking and laughing among themselves before the movie ended and Cleo went to pop in another movie in the dvd player. She sat back down on the couch as Reid was staring at a wall, thinking to himself.

How much time?

Recalling the conversations he had had with both Hotch and Rossi, Spencer let out a sigh. Neither of them had really given him a satisfying answer, and he turned to look at Cleo who was messing with some settings of both the dvd and the tv.

Was it weird that she was really the only one he had let in throughout the whole ordeal? Logically he would’ve turned to JJ or Morgan, but nothing about the situation was logical. It was all raw emotion; and he had never been good at dealing with that. Cleo on the other hand had had her fair share of it. Was that why she seemed to be the exception to the rule?

“Cleo? When did the death of your uncle stop hurting?”

Silence brewed between them as Cleo thought about how she could best explain the situation, moving back to the couch as she did. Death and grief would always be a difficult subject, and Cleo more often than not didn’t like to bring up her uncle’s death. But then again, Spencer was looking for her advice, wasn’t he?

“It didn’t. Memories like these don’t just stop hurting, Spencer. I wish I could give you some definitive timeline of when things faded and became more… tolerable, I guess, but it never really goes away. I don’t really know when it became more bearable to be without him; I still miss my uncle. His death definitely left its scars, but it’s the missing that hurts the most. It’s almost like a bad, permanent bruise. Something hurt you enough to leave a mark; it doesn’t hurt all of the time, but then you move wrong, press or brush against it and it hurts again.” “So losing Maeve is always going to hurt?”

“I’m afraid so. To some degree.”

They sat there silently, with Spencer looking back at the wall and Cleo studying her nails; the movie long forgotten and unimportant as it only functioned as background noise. Yet in this silence they almost seemed to agree on something, something unspoken but very real. Being in law enforcement, FBI no less… Both of them had seen enough to fill horror movies and educational books. Each and every one they considered colleagues could, too.

“I…. I don’t know about you, but it’s part of the reason I wanted to be in law enforcement. Not with the idea to take away pain, we… we generally arrive too late for that. The pain has already been inflicted when we get called in,” Cleo said softly, breaking the silence.

“But… I always wanted to have that pain not be worthless, or unsolved. Justice doesn’t bring people back, and I don’t know how much it truly helps those who have lost someone in such violence. To me, Justice is about having that pain acknowledged. It’s having other people look in and say; this shouldn’t have happened, but it did, so we’re punishing the one responsible.

It doesn’t.. fix anything. When a mirror breaks, you can put the pieces back together and forever be reminded of the cracks, or replace it. Things break, and they can be replaced. People can’t be replaced, so the only option is-“

“To be reminded of the cracks.”

Spencer turned to Cleo, giving her a careful and unconvincing smile as he did. She returned it, much in the same gesture, before they both turned to the tv screen.  

It was then that Cleo’s phone signaled that she had a text, not long after that Spencer’s phone announced the same. They both reached over the couch to grab it, quickly coming to the same conclusion.

“New case.” “Yup. Guess we have to catch people who would like the Purge to be an actual thing.”

Sometime later they arrived to the FBI building, calmly taking their place in the bulletin room where Garcia immediately explained what was going on.

Apparently six people had been found dead in Middletown, Connecticut; half of them gunned down while the other half was beaten to death. The victims were found in couples together spread throughout the city, and Garcia definitely didn’t want to look at the pictures as she made eye contact with Cleo. “Say, aren’t you from there?” “No, I’m not. I’m from Meriden,” Cleo said casually, frowning at the casefile on her iPad as she did. Rossi saw a perfect opportunity in this and took it;

“Well then, let’s bring the Nutmegger back to her natural habitat.” “Don’t make me fight you with an I heart NY shirt, because I will.”

 Once again they were reminded that there was no such thing as an easy case. Instead, Reid and Dewitt found themselves in a Mexican standoff with the unsub later in the investigation. Both of them had their gun pointed to this man, both trying to figure out a way to defuse the situation they had on their hand as the unsub was making wild allegations at the both of them.

“And how dare you betray your state and run off to Virginia, huh, miss perfect?!” the unsub roared at Cleo, only having gotten more agitated when he found out she would be on the case as well. They knew each other, vaguely, after having been to the same school but in different grades.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t get the memo where I should have been at your feet for doing the bare minimum,” Cleo casually remarked, moving closer to somehow try and distract the unsub from Reid; which he seemed to notice.

“Why the Las Vegas boy? What does he have that I don’t, aside from a gambling addiction?! I’m sick of girls like you protecting guys like him-“ “And I’m sick of guys like you shooting girls like me in the chest because our taste dares to be different from “explosive alpha male on steroids”!” Cleo barked back, getting fed up with the situation.

“I don’t owe you my life, my career, and I’m not going to back away from someone you decided to google and make the most basic assumptions on just because you want me to pick a man from my home state; Oh but not just any man, you, right? My preferences be damned on that!”

“Listen, this has to end now,” Reid chimed in, knowing fully well that Cleo was getting irritated.

“We’ve got the building surrounded, there is no way you can go. If you come with us quietly, however, the world will know what a hero you are. How undefeated you are, isn’t that what you want?”

Tension hung in the air as the unsub looked from one FBI agent to the other, before finally settling on Reid.

“Not from the likes of you, desert snake.”

Two shots rang out through the sky, alerting the troops outside to come rushing the door with Morgan in the lead; especially after Reid called for medical back up. He found them both sitting on the floor, the dead body of the unsub some feet away from the both of them.

He could only conclude that Reid had shot the unsub after Cleo blocked the path between the two and took a hit from the unsub’s gun into the protective padding of the bullet proof vest.

 Cleo sighed softly, overlooking the familiar landscape of her home state as she quietly sipped her tea, wincing a little as the bruise she gained from the whole thing chafed. So much for “bullet proof” vests, it much more felt like she’d taken the hit of a baseball bat to her ribcage.

She could hear someone approach, the door to the police station shutting and footsteps coming closer.

“You know, aside from getting shot, I don’t really understand why you didn’t want to come back here.” Spencer’s voice was as soft and gentle as it usually was, while he took a place beside his friend as he drank some of his coffee.

“The people are nice, the view is amazing…”

“I know,” Cleo agreed softly, her gaze seemingly a million miles away over the plains of the city.

“But I had to go. I wanted to be an FBI agent, and my uncle moved mountains to make that happen. After losing him, I couldn’t find the comfort I once did in my home state.”

She took another sip of her tea before pushing her hair behind her ear, needing a moment to gather her thoughts.

“I found family within the BAU, Reid. Connecticut is beautiful in its own right, and I’ll never deny the roots of my life that lay here. But I lost my mother when I was very young, I’ve never known my father, and when my uncle died…. There’s nothing left for me here, family wise.”

Spencer just looked on as Cleo finished her drink, momentarily debating whether or not he should give her physical comfort, but he decided against it as she tossed the empty, plastic cup into a nearby trashcan.

“I’ve been told Connecticut is beautiful in fall.” “It is.” “Will you show it to me, someday? I’ll give you Vegas in spring in return.”

She looked at him, a smile on her lips as she nodded in quiet agreement. In a second it dawned upon her; this being the perfect time and moment. The perfect opportunity. “Spencer… I-“ she stopped herself as she saw JJ approaching, quickly turning her gaze away as she fiddled with her hair.

“Just wanted to let you two know that we’re leaving in thirty minutes,” JJ announced, seemingly unaware to anything she may have interrupted as she was honestly just send to remind everybody of the time they had left to pack everything up and go home. She left her coworkers when they both nodded in understanding, waiting for her to go back inside.

“What did you want to say before we were interrupted?” “…. I look forward to having you as a tour guide through Vegas,” Cleo decided, internally kicking herself for not fessing up right there and then.

“Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears.”

― Rudyard Kipling, The Collected Works

#drabble #adjustment required (Cleo Dewitt) #fandom: criminal minds

[rivcrsc]

before you start to breathe again

Last year, Caleb almost dropped out of high school. Miranda had graduated and was planning on running to the opposite coast and she said she’d take him with her. 

“We’ll go somewhere that lets us be whoever we want to be,” she said to him. “We’ll go to California and be beach bums or Seattle and carry an umbrella everywhere we go. But we won’t have to be the foster kids anymore.”

“You aren’t a foster kid anymore,” he reminded her as a joke but it sounded nice. Caleb was tired of being shuffled around, forgotten and looked over. He knew he could pass the GED test if he ever felt like taking it. Plus his habit of cracking and updating phones and tablets was something he could do anywhere to make a quick buck. He could almost see it working out: him and Miranda in a small apartment a few blocks away from the good side of town, making it happen in a way that didn’t feel like a trap waiting to close. 

But then she’d taken up with a mechanic working just outside of town and suddenly was very content to waste her days in Rosewood. Caleb shouldn’t have been surprised. It was just another disappointment in a long string of disappointments; it hardly even mattered.

Except it did matter. Having this glimpse of a promise and then having it taken away just because Miranda found something better made him angry. Angrier than he had been in a long time and he took it out wherever he could. He was rude to everyone at school, suspended twice and then nearly expelled the time he got caught hacking into the vending machines. He fought with Janet and Paul, his foster parents, over every minor indiscretion which didn’t do much to defuse the tension the house already lived under. And though he wasn’t a fighter, he didn’t shy away from them at the bar Miranda started working at. 

It was Ms. Hastings who really bothered to notice that there was something behind all the anger and bad behavior. She made him work during study hall, sometimes giving him more challenging assignments to focus on and slowly but surely, he started to feel less and less angry the more time he spent with her. Looking back, he could see that she’d given him something to channel his anger into by hiding it in assignments. She made him feel useful when she asked for his help. And she listened to him, really listened, when he had things to say. 

The day he showed up to school with a large cut on the side of his neck was the day she gave him her phone number.

“If you need anything, call me,” she said and he stared at the scrap of paper for a good two hours before settling on how he felt about it. Most adults who might even bother to notice would insist he tell them how he’d hurt himself. Or if someone had hurt him. Ms. Hastings instead just... reached out. She didn’t assume she knew the answer and she didn’t insist she know the answer. She just wanted him to know she was there if he needed her.

He stayed at her house a few times before he started opening up to her more about his home life, about his fosters, and how no matter what anyone thought they knew about the system, it didn’t really work in his favor and never would. He was too old. His hair was a little too long and eyes too dark and his high, sharp cheekbones gave him away as anything except the All-American golden boys who were actually adoptable.

She was the only reason he made it through the school year.

She’d become his friend.

And he was kind of sure he’d fallen in love with her.

Yes, she was his teacher and he knew that was only one of the reasons actually doing anything with her was impossible. But he confided in her like no one else and he was sure she confided in him too. Their relationship, whatever it was, had gone past a normal student/teacher relationship and maybe that was already pushing it too far. But he thought about her all the time, in every way he could.

He even thought about her in her home, late a night, whispering fever dreams to himself for comfort.

And then something had broken, an unspoken pact, where he knew now that she had similar thoughts about him. More than similar, if he were honest. The exact same thoughts. 

Which made him kind of sure he’d fallen in love with her even more.

And tonight wasn’t helping change his mind any. He’d done what she said and picked up food from the diner, waiting until he watched Mr. Cavanaugh leave through the front door so he could sneak in through the back. And as soon as Caleb was in and the door shut behind him, Ms. Hastings was there with her arms around him whispering that it was going to be okay.

And he hated how much that simple act broke him down. It was just a fucking hug, but he basically collapsed into it and let her stroke his hair as she led him to the couch in her living room. She looked him over for any kind of injury before he pointed out the bruise forming just behind his ear - “I didn’t say he was a good shot,” Caleb tried to laugh but it came as more of a grumble.

“I can’t believe he hurt you,” she whispered, hugging him again and he couldn’t stop himself from letting a few tears fall. 

He hated crying. 

But it felt okay with her. She was quiet and soft and gentle and everything he always wanted but never knew how to ask for. If he’d had more of this growing up, maybe he’d be a better person. Maybe he wouldn’t live in fear of his inferiority complex becoming a reality (or maybe it already was and he was delusional). 

“You’re going to be okay,” she said again, pulling away from him just enough to look him in the eyes, her hand soft in his hair. “No matter what you do, I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

He’d only meant to close his eyes and breathe but instead he found himself leaning forward, closing the small space between them, his mouth finding hers. His lips finding hers. Kissing hers. And she kissed him back with the smallest movement, opening just enough to lean into him. But it wasn’t like anything he’d ever imagined when he thought of her. It didn’t have any of the heat or built up tension or even the playful smirk she often gave him.

It was sad. It was desperate. It was needy. And he hated it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away and pulling into himself. His head in his hands and eyes stuck to the broken laces of his shoes. 

“It’s okay,” she promised, her arm over his shoulder as she brought him close again. “It’s okay. I’m still here.”

Then he really did cry, his shoulders shaking under her touch. He let her pull him back to her, let her put his head in her lap as she stroked his hair.

Later they’d warm up the food. Later they’d fall asleep in the same bed. Later they’d wake up and talk about what had happened between him and Paul and who to call about it. They’d make a plan; they’d look for opportunities. 

But through all of this, she’d never let him go.

#para #selfpara #before you start to breathe again

[biofunmy]

Tales From the Teenage Cancel Culture

1.

A few weeks ago, Neelam, a high school senior, was sitting in class at her Catholic school in Chicago. After her teacher left the room, a classmate began playing “Bump N’ Grind,” an R. Kelly song.

Neelam, 17, had recently watched the documentary series “Surviving R. Kelly” with her mother. She said it had been “emotional to take in as a black woman.”

Neelam asked the boy and his cluster of friends to stop playing the track, but he shrugged off the request. “‘It’s just a song,’” she said he replied. “‘We understand he’s in jail and known for being a pedophile, but I still like his music.’”

She was appalled. They were in a class about social justice. They had spent the afternoon talking about Catholicism, the common good and morality. The song continued to play.

That classmate, who is white, had done things in the past that Neelam described as problematic, like casually using racist slurs — not name-calling — among friends. After class, she decided he was “canceled,” at least to her.

Her decision didn’t stay private; she told a friend that week that she had canceled him. She told her mother too. She said that this meant she would avoid speaking or engaging with him in the future, that she didn’t care to hear what he had to say, because he wouldn’t change his mind and was beyond reason.

“When it comes to cancel culture, it’s a way to take away someone’s power and call out the individual for being problematic in a situation,” Neelam said. “I don’t think it’s being sensitive. I think it’s just having a sense of being observant and aware of what’s going on around you.”

2.

The term “canceled” “sort of spawned from YouTube,” said Ben, a high school junior in Providence, R.I. (Because of their age and the situations involved, The New York Times has granted partial anonymity to some people. We have confirmed details with parents or schoolmates.)

He talked about the YouTuber James Charles, who was canceled by the platform’s beauty community in May after some drama with his mentor, Tati Westbrook, also a YouTuber, and a vitamin entrepreneur. That was a big cancellation, widely covered, that helped popularize the term. Teenagers often bring it up.

Ben, 17, said that people should be held accountable for their actions, whether they’re famous or not, but that canceling someone “takes away the option for them to learn from their mistakes and kind of alienates them.”

His school doesn’t have much bullying, he said, and the word carries a gentler meaning in its hallways, used in passing to tease friends. Often, the joke extends beyond people. One week, after students were debating the safety of e-cigarettes and vaping, some declared that Juul was canceled.

[Here’s what Barack Obama has to say about cancel culture.]

3.

It took some time for L to understand that she had been canceled. She was 15 and had just returned to a school she used to attend. “All the friends I had previously had through middle school completely cut me off,” she said. “Ignored me, blocked me on everything, would not look at me.”

Months went by. Toward the end of sophomore year, she reached out over Instagram to a former friend, asking why people were not talking to her. It was lunchtime; the person she asked was sitting in the cafeteria with lots of people and so they all piled on. It was like an avalanche, L said.

Within a few minutes she got a torrent of direct messages from the former friend on Instagram, relaying what they had said. One said she was a mooch. One said she was annoying and petty. One person said that she had ruined her self-esteem. Another said that L was an emotional leech who was thirsty for validation.

“This put me in a situation where I thought I had done all these things,” L said. “I was bad. I deserved what was happening.”

Two years have passed since then. “You can do something stupid when you’re 15, say one thing and 10 years later that shapes how people perceive you,” she said. “We all do cringey things and make dumb mistakes and whatever. But social media’s existence has brought that into a place where people can take something you did back then and make it who you are now.”

In her junior year, L said, things got better. Still, that rush of messages and that social isolation have left a lasting impact. “I’m very prone to questioning everything I do,” she said. “‘Is this annoying someone?’ ‘Is this upsetting someone?’”

“I have issues with trusting perfectly normal things,” she said. “That sense of me being some sort of monster, terrible person, burden to everyone, has stayed with me to some extent. There’s still this sort of lingering sense of: What if I am?”

4.

Alex is 17, and she hears the word “canceled” every day at her high school outside Atlanta. It can be a joke, but it can also suggest that an offending person won’t be tolerated again. Alex thinks of it as a permanent label. “Now they’ll forever be thought of as that action, not for the person they are,” she said.

“It’s not like you’ll sit away from them at lunch or something,” she said. “It’s just a lingering thought in the back of your mind, a negative connotation.”

During a mock trial practice a couple of weeks before a big competition, the song “Act Up” by City Girls was playing. One of Alex’s teammates, who is of Indian descent, rapped along with the lyrics, which include a racist slur.

The students, who until that point had been chatty because their teacher wasn’t in the room, went silent. “I was the only black person in the room,” Alex said.

Alex and another friend on the team explained to their teammate why he shouldn’t have used that word. “We’re a team, so we can’t have tension exist there,” she said.

He said he understood why they were uncomfortable but that it wouldn’t necessarily prevent him from using it again when singing along. He wouldn’t take it back.

“You’re canceled, sis,” her friend told the teammate. It was partially to lighten the mood, but also partly serious.

“It’s a joke, but still, we understand you have that opinion now and we’re not going to get closer,” Alex said.

Despite his initial tough stance, the teammate didn’t rap the word again, and Alex said that he had remained respectful during practice. The team took ninth and 11th place at the competition.

5.

It was orientation day for freshmen at Sarah Lawrence College, where one new student was unnerved by a social justice group’s presentation. The presenters discussed pronoun use and called on the entering freshmen to “‘battle heteronormativity and cisgender language,’” the student said.

Even if you accidentally misgendered someone, the new students were told, you needed to be either called out or called in. (“Called in” means to be gently led to understand your error; call-outs are more aggressive.) The presenters emphasized that the impact on the person who was misgendered was what mattered, regardless of the intent of the person who had misgendered them.

The freshman thought back to a time when her father had misgendered a friend of hers. Her father had asked her to apologize on his behalf. She did. “‘I only get mad when people intentionally try to misgender me because they feel like they have to correct who I am,’” she recalled her friend saying.

Sarah Lawrence has fewer than 1,500 undergraduates. One upperclassman she became friends with said that she had been canceled in her own freshman year.

But, this upperclassman said, the politics enforced through cancellation don’t always fit neatly into the social dynamics of college.

“I think where it loses me, we’re taking these systems that are applying huge abstract ideas of identity’s role and we’re shrinking it into these interpersonal, one-on-one, liberal arts things,” the upperclassman said.

Among the upperclassman’s friend group now, the idea of cancellation is “basically a joke.” Too many people had been canceled. At a recent party the upperclassman had attended, one guy said, “‘If you haven’t been canceled, you’re canceled.’”

6.

One night during Mike’s freshman year at a New York state college, he and a group of friends were headed to a party downtown. As they were waiting for their Uber, someone cracked a political joke, and then the casual conversation turned confrontational. One of Mike’s friends asked his roommate, D, if he was a Trump supporter.

D had a history of making the group uncomfortable. Mike and their mutual friend Phoebe said that he would made sexist, homophobic and racist remarks in past hangouts.

D said he did support the president — an anomaly in their liberal friend group — and “blew up” at the friend who asked the question. When the friend tried to change the subject, he became more upset. Mike stepped between the two to defuse the situation. “He got in my friend’s face, and that was the last straw,” Mike said.

He tried to cool D down; it didn’t work. D called Mike a homophobic slur, multiple times. The group split up. Mike didn’t return to his dorm that night, staying at a friend’s place instead.

“Even before this, we could tell, if I weren’t roommates with him, we wouldn’t have been friends,” Mike said. “So that was the breaking point for me, him saying that when I was sticking up for him.”

D left an apology note on Mike’s desk, which mostly tried to “justify his actions,” Mike said. “That set in my mind that he didn’t really feel bad about what he did,” he said. “He just felt bad for himself, that he would be looked at in a different light.”

A couple of days later, Phoebe, Mike and D sat down and D repeated the apology. Phoebe and Mike heard him out but said it didn’t clear him of wrongdoing and that he would have to demonstrate that he was different now. Both said that while D appeared sad about losing his friends, tearing up during their discussion, he didn’t show remorse.

Other friends didn’t accept the apology. “We wouldn’t tolerate it anymore, we cut him out of our lives,” Phoebe said.

Thus canceled, D moved from sadness to frustration and anger, Phoebe said. He grew “very bitter,” Phoebe said. She noticed that he had unfollowed and blocked the group on Snapchat and other social media a few weeks later.

“He did feel bullied by this whole canceled idea,” she said. “But in this case, no one felt bad doing it, because he didn’t really take responsibility for a lot of the things he said.”

Mike, though, still lives with D. He had signed on to live with him before the ordeal. They don’t speak. D has stopped acknowledging Mike and most everyone from their old group. “I’m definitely not living with him next year,” Mike said.

Phoebe managed to keep things civil. “Every time we see him, I still say hi,” she said. Sometimes, but not always, he nods or says hi back.

Sahred From Source link Fashion and Style

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#IFTTT #WordPress

[markchoq-blog]

Star Trek Raza Episode 2

Star Trek Raza

Season 1, Episode 2

Asylum (prt. 2)

 The bridge aboard the Raza

 Chaos erupts on the bridge of the Raza. Every crew member begins to race around in a panicked state not knowing what the hell to do. Even though they have gone through rigorous training, not many of them have seen a Romulan Warbird this close. The chatter on the bridge is deafening and the captain can barely think to himself. He can sense his new crew starting to crack under the pressure. They have barely been together a few weeks and have already been tossed into the fire. He knows that he needs to take control of the situation and that he needs to do it fast.

 “Everyone calm down!” he states, but the crew is so tied up in their panic that they do not hear him. He booms his voice over the chaos on the command deck. “I said, calm down all of you!!” and on that note everyone stops what they are doing and turns to look at their captain.

 Lieutenant Cho is the first to speak up breaking the silence. “Sir, we are being hailed by the Romulan Warbird.

 The captain turns toward his view screen. “On the view screen, Lieutenant. Let’s see what they want, shall we?” The face of High Commander Sharn appears on the viewer looking very serious.

 “Captain Decker, it’s an honor to meet such a legend as yourself. From one captain to another I salute you sir.”

 Captain Decker is not impressed. “I am afraid you have me at a disadvantage Commander. You know who I am, but I have no idea who you are OR what you are doing flying a Warbird in Federation space? Am I to assume you need medical assistance?” asks the captain knowing full well that it is NOT why they are here, but he is more than willing to play the Romulan’s game to find out.

 “No captain, I do not need medical aid. I am afraid the reason I am here is much simpler than that. I am here to retrieve a Romulan citizen that is aboard one of your ships. I am asking that you find this young man and turn him over to me immediately. I am sending over the information regarding the young man right now to each of your ships. You have two hours to find him and turn him over to me. Otherwise, I will start searching your ships myself.”

 “Captain, we have received the data from the Romulan’s.” states Cho.

 “Two hours Captain. No more… no less.” and the Romulan Commander shuts off communications with the Raza.

 “Pleasant guy.” jokes Commander Mitchell as he tries to cut through the tension on the bridge.

 “Lieutenant Cho, please alert the hospital ships. I want this Romulan found and transferred to the Raza immediately. Also, please alert Starfleet. See if there are any ships nearby that can assist us.” orders the captain.

 “Aye sir.” answers Cho.

 “Lieutenant Phos, please find out what you can about that Warbird and this… Commander Sharn. Also, have Alpha Flight guard the hospital ships. They have to be priority one right now. I am not ready to do anything to provoke our new guests.”

 “Yes sir.”

 “Lieutenant Karn, I need to know if there are any other ships out there or if we are dealing with one rogue ship.”

 I’m on it sir.” Karn answers back.

 “There will also be a senior staff meeting in twenty minutes. Commander Mitchell, please join me in my ready room.” The captain makes his way to his ready room as the commander follows quickly behind him. The door slides shut as the captain makes his way around his desk. He comes to a stop next to his chair and stands there looking back at Mitchell.

 “Commander Mitchell what the hell just happened out there?” bluntly asks the captain.

 “Sir, if I could explain …” but the captain cuts him off.

 “Damn-it James, those are Starfleet officers out there and I hand-picked all of them. They all just cracked like first year cadets under the first sign of pressure. What the hell have you been doing for the past three months with them?” barks the captain demanding answers.

 “Captain, I take full responsibility for what happened. I promise you that once we are clear of this I will order daily battle drills.” answering Mitchell, trying to defuse the situation.

 “Yes, you will commander. I have put my neck on the line for you James. You and a number of other crewmembers aboard this ship. I will not look like a fool; do you understand me? Now get back out on that bridge and pull that crew together.” demands the captain.

 “Yes sir.” answers Commander Mitchell as he tucks his tail between his legs and marches out of the ready room back onto the bridge.

 The captain taps his communications badge. “Lieutenant Cho!”

 “Yes sir?”

 “I need a secure line to Admiral Braun please.”

 “Line is secure sir. Anytime you are ready.”

 “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

 The captain sits down in his chair, straightens out his dress uniform and taps the control pad accessing the direct line to the Admiral; thinking that this is not going to go well.

 Alpha Flight

 “Confirmed Lieutenant. Alpha Flight is backing off.” answers Lieutenant Jin. “That’s it boys. The captain has ordered us to stand down. We are to fall back and form up around the hospital ships. On my mark, follow me.” commands Jin.

 “This is bullshit! We’ve got these fuckers right where we want them and the captain pulls us back? I can send a torpedo right down their throats before they can pop one shot off at us!” blasts Lieutenant Bates right back at his flight leader.

 “You have your orders Lieutenant. Fall back NOW!” answers Jin more sternly.

 “You’re breaking up Lieutenant.” answers Bates as he shuts off his flight communicator. He then makes a tight barrel roll spinning his fighter right into the path of the Warbird!!

 “Damn-it Bates, I gave you a direct order!” screams Jin. “Get your ass back in formation NOW Lieutenant!”

 “Don’t do this man!!” yells Ryder, but it’s too late as Bates engages the Warbird.

 “They have their shields down!! Arming torpedoes!! Locked onto their warp drives!! Now you pointy eared fuckers are going to see who has the upper hand.” snickers Bates. But just as he positions his fighter for a point blank hit, the Warbird’s underbelly docking bay doors slide open unleashing forty of her own fighter ship!!

 “Bates get the fuck out of there NOW!” screams Jin over the comm.

 “Son of a bitch!” remarks a stunned Bates as he banks and rolls his fighter out of the way of the oncoming fighter squadron, who swarms all around him like a pissed off hornet’s nest that just got messed with. He then makes a quick retreat back to Jin and Ryder dropping into formation. The Romulan fighter squadron in turn keeps a tight formation around their Warbird.

 “Damn-it Bates, I told you to stand the fuck down! Now get back to the Raza! You’re grounded for the rest of the mission!” orders Jin as Bates steers his fighter back to the Raza’s docking bay.

 The captain’s ready room

 The captain sits at the head of the table as his staff fills in the rest of the seats. To his left sits Commander Mitchell. A pissed off look on his face after the chastising he took from the captain just a short time ago. Following him are Lieutenant Phos, Lieutenant Cho, Chief of the Boat LaMay and Lieutenant Commander Sung. The rest of the senior staff are busy at their stations and could not be pulled away.

 “Tell me what we have learned people. We’re on the clock.” demands the captain.

 “If I may sir…” starts Lieutenant Phos. The Warbird is a D’deridex Class starship aptly named the Osiris. It has sixty-three decks and an estimated crew compliment of about fifteen hundred.”

 “What kind of firepower are we looking at Lieutenant?” asks Commander Mitchell. “Can we take them in a fire fight?”

 Phos stands up and taps the wall monitor bringing up a statistical view of the Warbird. As she points to the screen…”The Warbird is armed with six disrupter arrays, two torpedo launchers and a shield inversion beam. They are loaded with firepower sir.” and she turns to face the crew. “They also have modified their shuttle bay to house forty fighter ships, as unfortunately Alpha Flight has found out firsthand.”

 “That almost cost us.” remarks the captain. “Commander Mitchell, when this is all over I want to see Lieutenant Jin. It seems her and I have a problem that we need to address. What do we know about the captain of this Warbird? This High Commander Sharn?” asks the captain.

 “Commander Sharn is…or was a high commanding officer in the Romulan fleet. After the destruction of Romulus it seems the High Commander has gone somewhat rogue sir. Not much has been recorded about his missions after the destruction of Romulus and Remus”

 “So, it seems we have somewhat of a renegade on our hands here.” as he then turns to his Chief Engineer. “Lieutenant Sung, what are the Osiris’s warp capabilities?”

 “The Warbird has a standard warp seven cruising speed. But if they push their warp core, I am sure they can get warp nine out of her for about twelve hours.” answers A’Ryn Sung. “Then again, none of us are sure if that Warbird is carrying any modifications either.” and A’Ryn looks around the group. “Let’s not be shocked if they pull out some fancy new weapon.”

 “So, they are bigger then we are and they brought some friends along. But we are quicker and we can pack a hell of a lot more of a punching. Sounds like a fair fight to me.” remarks Mitchell. “Let’s kick their asses and get this over with.”

 “As much as I would love to wipe that smug look off of Commander Sharn’s face, I’m not looking for a fight Commander.” the Captain then turns to his Chief of the Boat. “Mr. LaMay, have we located this young man the Commander is looking for?”

 LaMay answers in his Scottish dialect “Aye sir. This Sorek character has been located and he was beamed directly to Sick Bay. Doctor Dorn and his staff are doing a full medical make-up on him right now.” answers the Chief of the Boat.

 “Commander Mitchell, when the good doctor is done; I would like to see him and Sorek immediately.” orders the captain.

 “Yes sir.”

 “Lieutenant Cho, any word from Starfleet?”

 “There are three Galaxy class starships about four hours away and they are in route to help us.”

 “That’ll make the Romulan’s think twice. Keep me posted with any updates. That will be all.”

 Romulan Warbird Osiris

 “What do we know of this Federation ship?” asks Sharn as he sits back in his command chair impatiently watching the clock tick off.

 “It is a new class of Federation starship sir. They call it a Diligent class. She is much more heavily fortified than we are sir and they carry a huge amount of armaments. In a head to head confrontation, they very well could defeat us.” answers the newly promoted Sub Commander Ra’Nar who is now second in command of the Osiris since the former first officer was killed in a botched boarding party attempt.

 “So, we will need to find a tactical advantage if it comes down to blows.”

 “Communications also has picked up three Federation starships entering the system. They will be here in less than four hours sir. We have determined that they are all Galaxy class vessels. If we are going to make a move, I suggest we do it before they arrive.”

 The captain’s ready room

 As ordered, Chief Medical Officer Lieutenant Dorn and his patient Sorek have arrived at the captain’s ready room. The captain and Commander Mitchell are already sitting down when the Chief and Sorek enter the room. Captain Decker and Commander Mitchell both stand up to greet them. The captain extends his hand to Sorek. “Mr. Sorek. It’s a pleasure to meet you. It seems you are the star of the show right now. Please, have a seat so we can discuss what has been going on.”

 Sorek takes a seat next to the doctor. After he is seated, both the commander and the captain sit down in their designated chairs. “Doctor, why don’t you start by telling us how he stands medically.” asks the captain.

 “As far as I can, tell he’s in perfect health. He is a little malnourished from eating rations for the past month or so. But other than that he’s fine.” answers the Trill doctor.

 The captain smiles as he looks at Sorek. “So, what can you tell me about High Commander Sharn? Why, out of the thousands of Romulan’s that we have aided in the past few weeks; does he want you?”

 Sorek looks down at the table not knowing if he can trust the captain… or any of these humans for that matter.

 “Please son, you have nothing to fear from us. We are trying to help your people. This is a humanitarian mission, but I am afraid Sharn is about to turn this into a bloodbath.”

 Sorek looks up at the captain. “I am sorry. I have no idea why he wants me above all the other Romulan’s that you have aided. I am… I am no-one to him.”

 “You are certainly somebody to him Sorek. Now please, think hard. Why does he want you?” asks the captain trying to keep his calm while pressing the young man for information.

 “I have already told you captain. I am not aware of any reason why he would want me. Now please, may I go?”

 “He’s hiding something from us sir. I can feel it.” remarks Mitchell.

 The captain’s communications badge chimes. “Lieutenant Cho to Captain Decker.”

 “Yes, what is it?”

 “Sir, High Commander Sharn wishes to come aboard to discuss our current situation.”

 “Beam him aboard alone. Have the MACO’s escort him to my ready room.”

 “Aye captain.”

 The captain leans forward in his chair looking right at Sorek. “If you are hiding something son, I highly suggest you come clean NOW!”

 Alpha Flights locker room

 On Alpha Flights maiden mission things got a little crazy. Not only did Bates not follow a direct order from his flight leader Lieutenant Jin, but she also clipped his wings and sent him back to the Raza. After docking his fighter, Bates storms off into the locker room and tosses his flight helmet across the room sending it careening off a number of lockers before it lands in the sonic showers. Bates lashes out as he slams his fists into the nearest locker he can find. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!!!” and blood trickles down from his hand as small cuts around his knuckles form.

 “I told you this was a bad idea.” states a male voice from behind him. Bates whips around, but nobody is there!

 “Who’s there?”

 “You never were the brightest of the group, were you?” as the voice now comes from the other side of the room. He spins around again trying to locate the spot where the voice is coming from.

 “This isn’t funny. Get the fuck out here and face me like a man!” exclaims an irritated young pilot as blood drips to the floor at his feet from his cut hands.

 “I warned you so many times “Pretty Boy” but you never listened. You never listened to anyone did you? Not me. Not your fellow squadron members. You knew everything. And look how shit turned out. Look at what it did to me?!” answers a voice behind Bates. The young man turns around and comes face to face with a ghost from his past. Lieutenant Commander Anson Wilkes.

 Anson Wilkes was a Benzite who took Bates under his wing fresh out of the academy. He showed Bates every trick in the book, and then they invented some of their very own. Bates was a good pilot, but Wilkes was so much better and this irritated Bates. But it was on their last mission together that Bates got careless and it cost his commander his life and the lives of his entire squadron. Bates can hear their screams. He can smell the fire. He can hear the crashes as the fighters exploded on impact with the planet’s surface. How he has lived in his own private hell for so very long.

 “What do you want from me?” demands Bates as he looks into the bloody face of his former commander. A face left bloody after his ship crash landed. Half his face burnt beyond repair. Wilkes left eye was burnt so badly that all that remained was an empty, bloody eye socket. The left ear burnt right off, not even showing signs that an ear was even there. A jagged piece of metal, most likely a piece of his fighter; protrudes from his neck still seeping blood like a fresh wound. His memories flood back to him like someone busted down a damn holding back mountains of rushing water.

 “I want you to pay for what you did to me!!”

 “Hey, who are you talking to?!” states a voice from behind Bates. The pilot turns around and sees a young deck hand standing there looking at him strangely.

 “He’s… he’s right there! Didn’t you see him?” asks Bates in a frantic state pointing back behind him as sweat rolls down his face soaking his flight suit.

 “See who sir? I am sorry but there’s nobody there.”

 Bates rushes around looking behind every corner in a state of panic. “He was right there! You had to have seen him? A Benzite!!”

 “Benzite? Sir, there are no Benzite’s aboard the Raza. Maybe you should go see Doctor Dorn? I think you have space sickness sir.”

 The young crew member walks out of the locker room as a panicked Bates puts his back against the flight lockers and slides down finally resting on his ass. He closes his eyes as he starts to bang the back of his head against the lockers trying to do anything to get the horrid memories out of his head.

 The captain’s ready room

 Captain Decker is seated in his ready room when Sergeant Scott Young and Private Juan Ruiz escort High Commander Sharn into the room followed by Commander James Mitchell. The two MACO’s stand guard at the door as Sharn walks toward the table. He looks to the right of the captain and sees Sorek sitting there with his head down not looking at the older man.

 ��I see you have found him.” states an excited High Commander Sharn.

 “It wasn’t very hard Commander. The hospital ships keep very accurate documentation as to who they have treated over the last few weeks.” Sharn pulls out a chair across from Sorek and sits down. Captain Decker and Commander Mitchell never get out of their chairs showing no sign of respect toward the Romulan Commander.

 “So Sorek, have you told these nice Humans why I have been looking for you?” asks Sharn.

 Sorek looks up and snaps back. “Looking for me? It is more like hunting for me if you are going to precise… Commander.” and the young man uses that word Commander like it’s a dirty word.

 “Dramatic as always, just like your mother.”

 “Don’t bring my mother into this. She was nothing to you and neither am I!” as Sorek snaps pointing his finger back at Sharn’s face.

 Sharn smiles at Sorek never taking his eyes off of him. “Captain, has he told you why I have been searching for him?

 “No, he has not. We were hoping that now we have the chance to talk things out, you might be able to shed some light on this for us?”

 “Well captain, Sharn is my son.”

 “Your son?” states Commander Mitchell stunned at the revelation.

 The captain looks at Sorek. “Is this true? Is the High Commander your father?”

 “He is biologically related to me, yes. But raping my mother does not make him my FATHER!!”

 “A little melodramatic don’t you think Sorek? I never raped your mother. The stories your grandfather fed to you are all lies.”

 “Maybe you could explain to all of us what the hell is going on? Why you brought a Warbird across the Neutral Zone into Federation space?” asks Commander Mitchell.

 “I find no reason to explain myself to you OR your kind Commander. I am Sorek’s father. I am here to collect my son and bring him back to the Romulan Empire. THAT is all that matters.”

 “Did you rape his mother?” asks the captain.

 “I loved Sorek’s mother. She was a servant in my family’s house. She held a very low position of stature when it comes to Romulan standards. Unfortunately, the elders in my house would never allow me marry a woman of such a low stature even if she was with child. When the elders found out she was pregnant and carrying my child, they plotted to have her and my child executed. I couldn’t have that so I paid a freighter captain to take her away and hide her on a distant planet.”

 “It was a damn penal colony! She spent the rest of her life cleaning latrines and serving slop to war criminals!! Is that how you loved her you COWARD?!” explodes Sorek as he jumps out of his chair. Sergeant Young rushes over to restrain him.

 “I am afraid that over the years I lost track of her. But I assure you that my heart was in the right place. My position kept me very busy. The Dominion war pulled me away for months at a time. I always meant to go back after you and your mother, Sorek. It just never happened and I am sorry for that. But please Sorek, you need to come back with me. Now is not the time to argue. The Romulan Empire has suffered great losses. It is now that we need every able bodied young Romulan to step up and join the cause.”

 Mitchell looks confused “What are you talking about?”

 “After the destruction of Romulus and Remus, the government fell into disarray. Yes we relocated the leading parties off worlds, but the loss of lives is in the billions. The military took a tremendous hit. Hundreds of ships military and civilian alike were destroyed. The Romulan Empire is fractured right now and we are on the brink of civil war. We need people like Sorek to come back and lead the next generation of the Romulan Empire.”

 “You don’t need me. What you need are puppets!” barks Sorek. He then looks at Captain Decker. “Captain, with all due respect I humbly ask the Federation for… asylum.”

 The captain ponders this question.

 “This is preposterous Captain. There is no way you can grant this. He is my son!” snaps a pissed off Sharn.

 “Commander Sharn, I am going to take some time to think about Sorek’s request. The MACO’s will escort you back to the transporter room so that you can return to your ship. I will notify you when I have made my decision.”

 Sharn gets up very pissed off. “Captain, please think long and hard about this. I would hate to have the Federation and the Romulan Empire come to blows over this small request.”

 The captain points to Sergeant Young. “Get him out of here.” and at gun point the two MACO’s escort the High Commander out of the ready room.

 The Stargazer Lounge aboard the Raza

 Yeoman Daisy Braun sits at the bar pondering if the decision that she made to join Starfleet was the right one. What was she thinking? She wanted so badly to be like her grandfather. To maybe someday captain a starship of her own. He promised her that serving aboard the Raza for the next twelve months would be great for her career. Serving under Captain Decker would teach her things that other cadets would die to learn. All lies she believed. For the past two weeks the captain has ignored her and buried her under a mountain of paperwork, not to mention passing her off onto the not so Starfleet Commander Mitchell. To put it plainly it has been hell and she hates it. All she wants to do is go home and hide in her room. She slowly sips on her root beer through her straw as the Cardassian barmaid Gilora makes her way over to her.

 “What’s the matter sweetie? You look like they kicked you off the bridge.”

 Daisy looks up from her drink very pouty. “Very funny. The captain hates me. Every time I ask to help him he finds some way to ignore me. It’s like he can’t stand me being around him.”

 “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you. He’s just busy. Have you looked outside recently? There’s a huge Romulan Warbird out there and they don’t look too friendly.”

 “Really? He slammed the ready room door in my face while we were still in dry dock.”

 Gilora looks shocked. “Really? Wow. I’ll have to bring that up later.”

 “You know the Captain?” pops up Daisy surprised to learn that fact.

 “Gilora smiles evilly. “You can say that.”

 “Do you think you can help me? Maybe teach me how to get through to him? That I bring more to the table than just being the Admiral’s granddaughter? Please Gilora?!”

 “I tell you what sweetie. I’ll help you out because I like you. But you have to make me a promise.”

 “Sure, anything just you just name it.”

 “Someday, when you are captain of your first starship; I want a lounge onboard. And I’m not talking a small lounge like the Stargazer. I’m talking some big time bar like Ten Forward aboard the Enterprise. I’m talking large scale sister. And I want holosuites. And I want at least two of them!”

 “Deal!” as Daisy extends her hand to shake on it. Gilora smiles as she shakes the young woman’s hand.

 The bridge aboard the Raza

 Lieutenant Monroe sits at her flight control station as she holds the Raza’s position firm in front of the Warbird. Once and a while she casually looks over her shoulder to the very attractive Orion councilor sitting in her chair next to the captains chair. Every now and then Councilor Liira can see the Lieutenant catching a glimpse of her. After a few minutes of playing cat and mouse with the starship pilot, Liira gets up out of her chair and casually walks around the bridge making it seem like she is just strolling around stretching her legs. She slowly makes her way down to Faye’s station and stops behind her. Faye can sense her. Her Betazoid powers can feel the sexual emotions flowing through Liira and it excites her. Liira bends over allowing her hair to flow onto Faye’s shoulder. Faye can smell the exotic shampoo that Liira uses in the shower, and it turns her on. Liira reaches across the console. “Are you busy for dinner?” she asks.

 Faye has no idea what to say. She has never been in a bi-racial relationship, never mind a lesbian relationship. She stutters the words out “I… uh… no. I have no plans.”

 Liira brushes her fingers slowly across Faye’s cheek feeling her soft Betazoid skid. “Good. My quarters. Eighteen hundred hours. Dress casual. I hate clothes.” she smiles at Faye and heads back to her chair sitting down and very sexually crossing her legs.

 The captain’s ready room

 For the past half hour Captain Decker has been debating what to do about Sorek’s request for asylum and he has finally made his decision. He stands up from the back of his desk and straightens out his dress uniform brushing it down. He makes his way to the bridge as the door whooshes open. He steps through and walks onto the bridge the door slides shut behind him. Making his way toward his command chair “Lieutenant Cho please alert the hospital ships to depart to rendezvous point Omega at maximum warp.”

 “Yes sir.” answers Cho as he begins to hail the three ships.

 He stops in front of his chair and looks at Phos. “Lieutenant alert Alpha Flight to come back onboard. I don’t want them out there when things go as badly as I think they are going to get.”

 “Yes Captain.”

 The captain sits down in his chair and looks at Mitchell. “Number One, how long before the fleet arrives?”

 Mitchell makes a few taps on his console. “About ten minutes, sir.”

 “All three hospital ships have warped away sir. We are now being hailed by the Osiris.” states Lieutenant Cho.

 “Thank you, Lieutenant. On screen please.”

 The forward view screen comes to life showing the pissed off face of High Commander Sharn. “Captain, I have to assume that by sending your three hospital ships away you have made up your mind?”

 Captain Decker casually sits back in his command chair crossing his legs. “I have Commander and I hate to say that it is NOT in your favor.”

 Phos breaks in. “The Osiris has armed their forward phaser banks and raised their shields.”

 “Red alert.” shouts Commander Mitchell as the red lights begin flashing and the loud alarm begins to sound across the ship.

 “Commander, I am sorry. I have decided to allow your son the asylum that he has requested. He is now under the protection of the Federation.”

 “I am sorry to hear that Captain. I was hoping that you would see things differently. You allowed an ill minded child to brainwash you into war.”

 “War Commander? I am afraid that YOU are the one that is starting a war. You’re the one who violated the Neutral Zone treaty. You and your crew locked weapons on us. We sir are on a mission of peace helping YOUR people. Never once while you were aboard the Raza did you ask how YOUR people were. You don’t give a damn about your people. I believe Commander that there is a deeper much darker reason that you want your son back and I for one am going to protect him from YOU. And if that means you and I must come to blows… I am betting on the Raza and my crew EVERY time!!

 “Shields up!! Charge phasers and load all torpedo bays!! This isn’t a drill people!!” shouts Commander Mitchell.

 “Shields up and all weapons locked and loaded Commander.” responds Phos.

 “Captain I beg you do not do…” states Commander Sharn before Decker cuts him off.

 “Lieutenant Cho shut that damn thing off. He’s giving me a damn headache.”

 Lieutenant Cho smiles as he kills the connection between the Warbird and the Raza. Just then, three galaxy class starships warp onto the scene aside the Raza. The lead ship, the U.S.S. Gandhi; hails the Raza.

 “Sir the captain of the Gandhi is hailing us.” states Cho.

 “On screen Lieutenant.”

 The screen comes on as the Gandhi’s captain appears. “Morgan I hear you got yourself in a little pickle? Anything we can do to help?”

 “I think you just being here will sway the Romulan’s from escalating this any further Captain.” smiles Decker.

 The Romulan Warbird Osiris

 High Commander Sharn is pissed off two-fold. If it wasn’t bad enough that Captain Decker blatantly disrespected him. Now the Human’s have brought in three more starships to aid them.

 “Sir, three more starships have arrived and they all appear to be of Galaxy class.” comments Sub Commander Ra’Nar.

 Sharn rubs his forehead trying to collect his thoughts.  “Back us off damn-it. Give us some room between us and them.”

 “Backing off sir. All three Galaxy class ships have raised their shields and have armed weapons.” responds Ra’Nar.

 The sensor chief speaks up. “Sir, I am detecting four more starships entering the system.”

 “What? What are they?” asks the Commander as he leans forward in his command chair.

 “Sir, sensors classify them as Romulan. Valdore class sir.” answers the young man.

 “Damn-it!!” shouts the commander as he slams his fist down on his armrest. “Engage cloak. Take us out of the system!!  Warp nine NOW!!”

 “Yes sir. Warp nine.”

 The bridge aboard the Raza

 Before anyone can say anything the crew watches as the Osiris begins to back off from the four Federation ships and then disappears behind their cloaking device.

 “Sir, I am picking up four more warp signatures entering the system.” states Lieutenant Karn from behind her control station.

 “What the hell! What are they Lieutenant?” asks Commander Mitchell.

 “Sensors indicate that they are Romulan sir. Valdore class.”

 “It doesn’t feel right Number One.”

 “Sir, the lead ship is hailing us.” announces Cho.

 “On screen.”

 The captain stands up as another Romulan of high authority appears on his screen.

 “Captain, please accept our apologies that we did not arrive sooner. Let’s just say that things in the Romulan Empire have been a bit chaotic as of late.”

 “I fully understand Captain. But if I may ask, what brings you to Tarod IX?” asks Captain Decker.

 “As we detected, you and your fleet have come into contact with the Romulan Warbird Osiris. Please let it be known that Commander Sharn and his crew do not represent the Romulan Empire any longer. They are rebels fighting for their own cause much like your Maquis. We have been hunting the Osiris for a good part of three months. Please do not take the crossing of the Neutral Zone as any act of war. We just wish to bring back any Romulan civilians that want to return to the Empire. Any that wish to stay with the Federation… we wish them the very best.” answers the Romulan captain.

 The captain smiles “That’s so good to hear.”

 Outside Lieutenant Commander Liira’s quarters

 It seems like the past few hours have flown by for Faye Monroe. Not only has she watched the Raza face off with a Romulan Warbird, but now she has a hot date with the Orion councilor. She’s a nervous wreck as she stands outside Liira’s private quarters debating whether or not to chime herself in or not. She finally takes a deep breath, adjusts her tight little miniskirt and touches the control pad buzzing the door. The door whooshes open and she sees Liira standing there with a see through silk shirt on. Her green skin beaming through the top with barely two buttons holding her breasts back. Faye slowly looks down admiring Liira’s long sleek legs as she walks barefoot on the carpet.  Liira sees Faye standing there slack jawed admiring her. “So, you want to come in or are you gonna stand out here all night?”

 Faye has no idea what to say, so she does what just comes naturally as she throws herself at Liira in a very passionate kiss. Both women are overcome with lust as their hands go crazy exploring each other’s bodies. By the time Liira pulls Faye into her quarters, her shirt is totally unbuttoned and barely hanging off her. The door to the room slides shut.

 The ready room aboard the U.S.S. Raza

 After a very long day, the captain is sitting at his desk enjoying the last cup of coffee for the day. It’s getting late and he is in need of some downtime. A chime comes across the room’s door.

 “Enter.” states the captain and Lieutenant Jin walks into the room still in her flight suit. She makes her way toward the captain and stands at attention in front of his desk.

 “You asked to see me sir.” states Jin.

 The captain puts down his coffee. “Yes I did. Please relax. I have reviewed your logs from the stand-off with the Romulan’s and upon review something bothered me. This Lieutenant Bates’s actions could have led to a much bigger issue than we already had. He directly ignored your orders and then he turned off his communications channel.”

 “Yes, sir I know what he did and I grounded him for the rest of the mission. I am also going to put a note in his file.” responds Jin.

 “Lieutenant, you are an excellent pilot. You are probably only second to Faye Monroe in flight skills. You are also an incredible team leader. I am asking you as captain of this ship to correct this issue internally before I am forced to do it for you.”

 “Thank you, sir. I will handle it sir, I promise you.”  Jin dismisses herself and leaves the ready room.  

 The Captains quarters 2100 hours.

 The captain has had a hell of a day. Facing off with not one, but four Romulan Warbird’s would put anyone on edge. He finishes his log and sends it off to Starfleet command when a chime comes at the door.  “Enter.” he states and the door slides open letting Gilora walk in. She has her hair up and she is dressed in a bathrobe. The captain’s jaw hits the floor as a smirk comes across his face.

 “I never thought you were going to get done with the Romulan’s.” exclaims Gilora.

 The captain gets up from behind his desk and approaches her. “I am sorry for keeping you waiting. Please tell me how I can help you.”

 She sexually walks over to him, leans in and whispers in his ear “Come to bed.” He watches as she walks toward his bedroom slowly letting the bathrobe drop to the floor revealing that she was naked the whole time under the robe. The captain’s heart starts to race as he pulls his shirt off and follows her into the room.

#star trek