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Elphaba's nose was buried in a book. That much was nothing new. What
was
new was the type of book she was reading. It was full of adventure, love, chivalry, daring and humor. It was her ultimate guilty pleasure, something she adored, but was always made fun of for adoring. In the back of her mind, the green girl couldn't help but wonder if romance might someday be possible for her, too. Of course, she knew the odds were low, but… Whenever she read these novels, she couldn't help but dream! The books made it seem like anything was possible!And that was the thing, she was actually a
huge
romantic. The world just never let her show it, and that rejection, in turn, hardened her heart. But the romantic was still very much alive inside of her. Why else would she secretly love romance novels so much? But sometimes, the books made her feel very sad and lonely, and she finally shut the one she was reading with a small, unhappy sigh. The prince and princess had just shared their first kiss and it had been so romantic and touching that it made Elphaba mourn her own lonely, empty life all the more. What prince would ever want to kiss someone like her?"Oh, Elphie!?" a voice at the door sing-songed. Elphaba sighed again, but this time, she smiled as she did so. This voice belonged to her bubbly blond roommate, Glinda Upland. Once upon a time, the two had been bitter rivals, but after a hat, a prank gone wrong, an apology and a dance, the two had become friends. Best friends, even. As impossible as it seemed, it had happened all the same. There was just something so special, powerful, beautiful and wonderful about the bond that they shared, and the sheer improbability of it happening made it all the sweeter.Already, Elphaba knew that Glinda was someone she wanted to keep in her life, no matter how much things changed. And already, Elphaba knew that Glinda would be the one to try to stay with Elphaba, too, no matter how hard life became. It was this inexplicable knowledge that made Elphaba smile whenever Glinda walked in the room. She was going to be one of the few people Elphaba kept willingly in her life. And she was going to be one of the few people happy to keep Elphaba in hers. A lifetime with Glinda sounded like paradise…"Hey, Glinda," the green girl replied as Glinda pranced into their room."Do you wanna go down to the quad with me later? I know there's going to be a great firework show to celebrate the end of term!" she asked."Ah, you know me, I'm not really into loud noises or public places," Elphaba winced."Awww, what? Come on, everyone loves a good firework show!" Glinda pleaded. She gave her roommate her best puppy-eyes."No, Glinda, I'm sorry, I just don't feel comfortable going to a firework show," Elphaba continued to insist.They went back and forth a few more times before Glinda finally accepted defeat."Ok, Elphie, I get it. You win," she sighed unhappily."You can go with some of your other friends," Elphaba suggested, feeling guilty that she'd disappointed Glinda."But I don't want to go with
them!" Glinda insisted almost childishly. "I want to go with
you!""But why me? I'm not exactly the life of a party," Elphaba grinned dryly."Doesn't matter. You're my friend. You mean something to me. Isn't that enough for me to want to spend time with you?" Glinda asked.There was an unusual amount of sincerity in her voice, and it was enough to give Elphaba pause. Sure, she still hated fireworks and public events, but as she thought about Glinda's proposal, the more and more fun it seemed. It wasn't because the fireworks were going to be cool, it was because Glinda would be there. And Elphaba had to admit, anywhere that Glinda went was always a fun place to be."How about we compromise?" Elphaba suggested finally. Glinda gave her an interested look, eyes widening hopefully. "Let's say we go to the beginning of the firework show. We can stay for maybe an hour? Then we can come back and spend the rest of the night here. We can even watch the finale from the rooftops because, if what you're saying is true, I have no doubt that everyone from here to the Emerald City will be able to see it," Elphaba paused to chuckle while Glinda clapped her hands excitedly."Ooooh! What a great idea, Elphie! Half the night at the party and half the night alone together! I like it!" And so, the deal was set.Many hours later, the two were sitting on the roof of their dorm, a rope of bedsheets trailing from their window to the roof."This really has been a wonderful night," Elphaba told her roommate as they sat and watched the fireworks together."Hasn't it?" Glinda agreed, voice hushed with awe as she leaned against Elphaba's side, wide eyes staring at the rainbow-speckled sky. Then, slowly, she turned to Elphaba and kissed her cheek. It was a small, soft, gentle little gesture that could've meant nothing in the long run, but, for some reason, the moment her lips touched Elphaba's face, Elphaba felt fireworks going off in her own mind as more of them whistled into the sky.Even after Glinda pulled away, staring up at the fireworks again, Elphaba couldn't help but keep watching the little blond, transfixed. Then, little by little, second after second, Elphaba began to wonder if she was… maybe… a little bit in love with Glinda. It wasn't something she'd ever considered before, but when Glinda's kiss refused to leave her mind, even after she and Glinda had climbed back down into their dorm, Elphaba couldn't help but wonder. And the rainbow sky wasn't helping.In time, though, Elphaba would wonder how she could've ever felt such passion for Glinda and
not
realized what it was sooner. She supposed that being raised alone, and in a relatively romance and sex negative environment, meant that such feelings were unknown to her. Perhaps that was why she had no clue what it felt like to be in love. Heteronormativity was one heck of a blinder, and being raised without friends meant that even the smallest of kind interactions could be interpreted as anything.Now, though, she was 100% sure that she loved Glinda. She, Elphaba Thropp, was in love with Glinda Upland. It was romantic, it was sensual, it was powerful, and it was
real. Even if it had taken her a while to figure it out, there was no doubt in her mind now. And when that first realization finally sunk in, Elphaba felt the fireworks going off once more, and she smiled all the way into her dreamland where Glinda waited for her on the other side.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Not bad," Tempest gave Storm an impressed look as the two of them studied Storm's appearance in the mirror. She was wearing a simple black suit and tie, and her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail.
"I guess," Storm sounded uncertain.
"Oh! Don't worry! You look great!" Tempest patted Storm on the back reassuringly. "Besides, you gotta go! Look at the time!"
"Crap!" Storm hissed. She hadn't realized how late it was. Without hesitation, she brushed past Tempest.
"Go get 'em, tiger!" Tempest shouted after her, laughing to herself.
Several minutes later, Storm found herself at Iris' door. She was at a total loss on what to do. Did she knock? Did she wait? Did she text? And, oh, crap! She didn't have any flowers! Were flowers mandatory for a date? Or would Iris not mind? Should she ask? Ah, but she couldn't! It was too late to buy any flowers now! And it would be obvious if she tried to just pick some. Ugh… Why did this have to be so stressful?!
But at last, the woman finally caved and knocked. Well, here went nothing…
"Woah!" Storm had hoped to have a witty compliment ready, but actually seeing Iris took the words, and breath, right out of her. Iris was only wearing a simple, knee-length dress with spaghetti straps, and it was the same exact color as her eyes, but even though it wasn't very extravagant, it was still absolutely gorgeous. She also wore her long, wavy brown hair in a bun, a purple clip in it to match her dress and her eyes.
"Like what you see?" Iris joked, quite amused by Storm's shamelessly stunned expression. Storm, meanwhile, winced inwardly, cursing herself that Iris was able to read her surprise so easily.
"You look amazing," Iris continued. "Your suit suits you," she joked.
"I'm sorry, I didn't have anything fancier," Storm was quick to fiddle with her tie, looking anxious.
"No, I mean it! I think you look wonderful," Iris promised with a gentle smile. If Storm's nervousness wasn't radiating off of her in waves already, the fact that Iris' pun had gone right over her head spoke for itself.
"Oh, umm, thanks," Storm ducked her head awkwardly and Iris had to bite back another laugh. Storm really was adorable when she was flustered, but she didn't want to tease the other woman
too
mercilessly.
"Oh! And, uhh, you look amazing, too, by the way!" Storm cleared her throat. "It, uhhh, matches your eyes."
Storm regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. It matched her eyes? No duh! Thanks, Captain Obvious…
"Thank you," Iris gave a gracious nod. Clearly, she wasn't bothered at all by Storm's awkward compliment. Then she extended her arm to the other woman, a pleasant smile on her face. "Well then, shall we?" she asked.
"Ah, yes, we shall!" Storm took her arm. Well, at least she managed to get
that
right!
ooo
45 minutes later, the two were seated at a rather fancy restaurant. Iris had picked the place and Storm seemed blown away by all of the opulence displayed in one setting. There was a red carpet floor, sculpted walls, candles and chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, tables covered in fine China, shining silverware, and silk cloth… It all looked like something right out of a fairytale!
"This place sure is… extravagant!" Storm remarked as she slid into her seat awkwardly.
"It's the
best
place in town for a fancy dinner date!" Iris agreed, much more enthusiastic. She'd eaten here several times in the past and she never failed to feel like a gorgeous, elegant, storybook princess every single time. The lighting was perfect, the food was exquisite, and the drinks were all so fancy and elegant. As were the bottles they came from and the glasses they were served in.
Once a waiter finally came by, he lit the small candle at the center of the table before taking their orders and leaving them with a small tray of appetizers. By this time, though, Storm was sweating bullets. Even though ordering had been simple enough, the layout of the plates and utensils was intimidating. There were several sets of everything, and once again, Storm was at a total loss. Why were there three forks?! Who the heck needed that many for one dinner?! And how on earth was she supposed to know which one she was supposed to use first?
But, trying to put her mind at ease, she turned her attention to the appetizers. The only thing she was familiar with were the bread rolls.

Oh well, I guess it'll have to do…

The woman reached out to grab one of the rolls but, in doing so, she knocked over one of the glasses of water sitting at the table as well.
"Oh, crap!" Storm jerked her arm back quickly. This only upset the tray of rolls and sent them flying as well. "Gah!" Then, in her haste to catch the tray, she bumped into the table, causing everything to rattle threateningly. Scared that something else might've fallen, she sat back up quickly and knocked into the table again, sending some of her own utensils to the floor. At the same time, the water had since soaked through the tablecloth and all the bread rolls that hadn't fallen on the floor yet.
"Enough!" their waiter returned in the neck of time. Storm instinctively froze, still holding a tray and a soggy roll. For three seconds, she stayed as still as a statute. Then, as fate would have it, the tipped over glass finally rolled off the table. Thank goodness the floors were carpet!
At the same time, Iris bit her lip and winced. She was torn between laughter and embarrassment.
"I'll pay and we can leave," she offered sheepishly.
"That will not be necessary," the waiter grunted. Then he gestured for some of the other servers to come over and they all helped clean up the mess. Storm watched them with humiliation burning in her eyes. In what was definitely a worst-case scenario, she'd made a fool of herself
and Iris
at a fancy establishment in front of the entire staff, and a full house. Since it was dinnertime, every other table was full, so quite literally, the entire room had its eyes on Storm.
But before long, the mess had been cleared away.
"I will bring you more rolls," the waiter said.
"Oh, that's alright, we don't-!" Before Iris could finish, the waiter had turned tail and departed. "Well. Never mind."
Another minute so of tense silence passed before Iris finally plucked up the courage to talk to Storm.
"Are you doing alright?" she asked.
"Yeah. Fine," Storm was staring hard at the tablecloth. It was evident she was too ashamed to even look at Iris.
"I'm not mad, you know?" Iris tried to reassure the other woman.
"But
they
are," Storm muttered, now scowling at the tablecloth.
"Pfft, who cares?" Iris snorted. That much genuinely caught Storm off guard and she finally looked at Iris, surprise in her eyes. "I mean it!" Iris insisted. "I know it's embarrassing to have the entire restaurant stare at you but… you know what? Screw em! Accidents happen, and if they're too narrow and shallow-minded to realize that, then, well, their opinions are hardly worth caring about, huh?"
Her words were unusually callous, but there was a ring of truth of them, and that much was what gave Storm pause.
"You sure we won't get in trouble for this, though?" she asked, concern slipping into her voice.
"Meh, probably not. I bet this sort of thing happens all the time," Iris shrugged. "Like I said, accidents happen, and fine dining ain't easy."
"Pfft! You can say that again!" Storm scoffed. Iris had succeeded in cheering her up. But now, there was still the matter of dinner…
"If you'd like, I can try to give you some pointers!" Iris offered helpfully.
"I don't need help
eating!" Storm scoffed again, shaking her head. She was an adult for heaven's sake!"
"I'm not teaching you how to eat, silly," Iris smiled. "I'm just helping you get the hang of it. Like I said, fine dining ain't easy."
Storm still looked reluctant, her pride clearly wounded, but Iris was gentle and reassuring enough that Storm finally conceded. That, and she didn't want another mishap before dinner was over! So she wisely allowed Iris to show her how to use all the many, fancy utensils.
All things considered, it was actually easier than Storm had first thought. Yes, it was still unnecessarily complicated, but for the most part, all one needed to do was move from the outside in. That was easy enough to remember. So, the end of the dinner actually went off without a hitch! Before long, Storm was actually almost enjoying herself. Laughing and chatting with Iris as she ate, she forgot all about her little slipup earlier, and it seemed as though the rest of the dining hall had as well. People were no longer staring, and their waiter seemed in slightly brighter spirits.
Once the meal came to a close, Iris paid the bill and left a tip slightly larger than normal. Seeing it, the waiter decided that all was forgiven and he wished them both a good night before they left the restaurant.
"I'll pay you back," Storm offered as soon as they were back outside.
"Nah, don't worry about it," Iris waved her off. "I was going to buy dinner anyway."
"Well, I still feel like I owe it to you, since you saved my butt back there," Storm smiled sheepishly.
"No, I told you, fine dining is weird and difficult, so you've got nothing to apologize for. I didn't always get it right either," Iris laughed.
Storm still looked a uncertain, but when it became clear that Iris wasn't going to accept any monetary compensation, she was forced to concede.
"I'm not sure what I did to get someone as wonderful as you, but I sure am grateful for it," she told Iris.
"Aww, you big softie!" Iris teased, then she stood on tiptoe to give Storm a quick, little kiss. "Besides," she joked. "Consider it
my way
of paying
you
back for all the times when you had to clean up
my
messes. So now we're even-steven!"
"Really?" Now that Storm was more in her element, away from the fancy restaurant, some of her wit finally started returning to her. "Because I seem to remember you kissing me just half a second ago, so…"
"Ah, true! I see what you mean!" Iris slapped her forehead and laughed. "I guess you're right. You
do
owe a little something-something after all!"
And Storm was more than happy to pay up, although, as Iris would later tell her, Storm's kiss had been much better than her own.
"So now that we're back home, let's see if I can pay you back again," Iris joked.
"Well, just a fair warning, I'm probably going to lose track of the score," Storm laughed.
"Oh don't worry, so will I, so I guess we should just enjoy ourselves, hmm?"
"Ha! Sounds like a plan."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Cora said nothing as she watched the two groups argue, snarling and spitting at one another. On her left side stood several LGBT people. There was one gay couple, three queer women and two trans people. On her right was a pastor from a nearby church, a young couple from the same church, and an elderly couple from a different one. The fight was just the same as it ever was. Was being queer a sin?
Of course, the people on Cora's left said that it was not. Citing mistranslation as the root cause of the misunderstanding, they believed that God loved and supported every gender and sexuality. Why else would he have created them that way unless he supported it? And likewise, they cited the importance of love over sin. How could God hate creatures that were shaped by love? And whatever sin might come from homosexuality was surely absolved by the love that could be born from such a union as well.
But, equally predictable, the people on Cora's right were in adamant disagreement. They took issue with anyone who would dare question God. It was written in the Bible several times over that the preferred orientation was a male-female union that provided offspring. Were the instructions and implications not clear enough already? They had not been born queer out of love, but out of sin. Now it was their job to overcome that natural sin. No matter how appealing homosexuality seemed, the root of that tree was still wrong, and it needed to be corrected.
"Love the sinner, hate the sin!" they insisted. "God loves you as a person, but he hates your sin. Think of it like a person with a flaw. You may love someone, but if they engaged in an unhealthy behavior, you'd want them to change that behavior, for their sake!"
"But how is being gay an unhealthy flaw?" one of the people on Cora's left asked.
"Even if it feels good to you, it goes against the natural, logical order of a male and female having a child," the pastor replied.
"So what is your opinion on adoption and couples who choose not to have children?" one of the gay men asked.
"They are not in sin because they are still married couples."
"Well, first of all, how do you know that? Second of all, then fine, let us just get married and we can call it even."
"But a homosexual union, by definition, is not a marriage."
"So all same-sex relations are a problem by default? You believe there is no way to conduct a healthy, productive same-sex relationship?"
"No, because by definition, a homosexual relationship is not what God desires for humanity. Even if it does not appear to cause any outward harm, it is not what God wanted for us, and that is what makes it a sin."
"But how are you sure it ISN'T what he wants for us?"
"How are you sure that it IS?"
This was how all likeminded arguments went. Cora had seen plenty in the past few months. It didn't matter where the debate began, they always ended in the same way. Someone would pull the "it is, or isn't, God's will!" card and the other side couldn't quite oppose since neither side could really be sure whether or not it was true. There was just too much evidence pointing in either direction. One could tailor any argument to support their side, if they so wished, so how was anybody to know what was right and what was wrong?
"And even if homosexuality itself is not a sin, don't you think the vehemence you're using to question God is?" one member of the elderly couple asked. "Rather than rest and just believe, you continue to question Him in hopes of receiving a desired answer."
"But God encouraged the doubtful to come to him!" one of the queer women cried, citing the story of "Doubting Thomas".
"He also said he was not to be tested!" the other member of the elderly couple retorted, citing Deuteronomy 6:16, Matthew 4:7 and Luke 4:12. "How can you call yourselves Christians if you doubt your own God so thoroughly?"
"Well, are you implying that blind faith, obedience without question, is what God wants?"
"Yes. But it is not blind faith. Why is that so hard to understand? How else are you supposed to prove your devotion to him?"
"I mean, how can you call a God that pushy and demanding, loving?"
Cora sucked in a breath. At the same time, the people on her right cried out in outrage. Yep. Now they were onto
this
part of the argument. Time to once again discuss how selfless God had been, and how lucky any of them were to even be able to worship him. Both sides carried on, the people on Cora's right insisting that the only way to be a Christian was to give oneself up to God, even if it made that person uncomfortable. Trust in him, even when it's hard, and you will be greatly rewarded. At the same time, those on Cora's left insisted that devotion that blind was not love, but obsession. If asking questions was a sin, then maybe the religion in question wasn't one worth following…
"It doesn't matter whether you want to follow it or not. That's just the reality of the world we live in. You can choose to disbelieve if you want. God gave you free will. Just don't come crying to him later when your day of judgement finally comes," the pastor remarked grimly.
"Besides," Cora suddenly found herself piping up, "wouldn't it be better to play it safe? I mean, what do you have to lose? All you have to do is just not commit any homosexual acts, right? Because it shows God that you
are
willing to submit to him. Isn't that its own reward?" But even though she was the one to say it, she wasn't quite able to believe it.
"Well said, Cora," the younger couple looked at her admiringly and she gave them a pained smile in return. She felt like such a dirty liar, preaching something she couldn't even bring herself to believe in. If anything, the only reason she was preaching at all was because she hoped that, one day, she
would
be able to believe. Maybe someday, her eyes would be opened too, and God would enlighten her so that she could finally start understanding and believing everything that she was saying.
But for now, she was in serious doubt, longing to side with the group on her left. But her forethought forbade her from doing it. Her eternal soul was on the line! She had no time for weakness! No time for doubt! No time to let fear or desire get in the way of the truth! Even if she
wanted
to live in a world where this sort of thing was ok, it was just like the pastor had said, reality was what it was. Even if it was uncomfortable, that changed nothing. So they could either take it or leave it.
Blessedly, the debate did not last much longer. The group on the left finally got tired of arguing and began to move away.
"You may be able to flee from us, but you cannot flee from the eyes of God!" the young couple called out after them, but they received no reply. Although, one of the queer women did shoot Cora a look. Was that… sympathy in her eyes? She said nothing, but she didn't need to. Not only did her expression cover it, but Cora looked away only a second later, unwilling to confront what the woman was trying to convey.
"I'm sorry, but God's word is Eternal, and His word is Law," she muttered. Her stomach twisted as she said this, but she refused to back down. They could either take it or leave it. The other guys had obviously chosen to leave it, and there was no room for lukewarm Christians, so Cora was going to make her own decision now. She was going to take it, to the very best of her ability, and maybe someday, that devotion would be recognized and rewarded. But regardless, she was going to take all of it and say, "Always
alleluia."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Gale and Tempest reclined on the warm, sun-kissed grass, just watching the rainbow-colored crowd pass by.
"Man, I'm so glad we were able to make it to Pride this year!" Gale sighed, smiling lazily.
"Me too!" Tempest agreed, snuggling up closer to him as they continued to watch the parade.
"Did you want to watch the fireworks later, or do you think spending
that
much time here would be too much?"
"Oh, either works," Tempest shrugged. "I've got the energy, I think. Besides, either way, we'll be together, and that will keep me going, too!"
"Aww, you!" Gale blushed. Tempest laughed before pressing a kiss to his cheek. The two managed to exchange a few more playful, flirting remarks before they were suddenly cut off by a rather loud, rather rude Pride-goer.
"Hey! Pride isn't supposed to be for cis-hets!" It was a woman about their age, decked out in rainbows, but despite her cheerful apparel, her expression was anything but.
"Hey, you don't know we're cis-het!" Gale sat up with a look of indignation. His warm smile was completely gone, replaced by a scowl.
"Well, you
could
look a little less heteronormative," the woman scoffed. "The girl in a dress and the guy in jeans and a tee. How original."
"Oooh, someone called the fashion police," Gale rolled his eyes. "If only they'd sent someone who actually knew what the word meant."
"So now you're saying we can only be LGBT if we look a certain way?" Tempest sat up next, looking equally annoyed. "Who are you to judge?!"
"You cis-hets don't need any more validation than you've already got!" the woman snapped back.
"Ok, first of all, maybe we're allies. Even if Pride isn't for us, we're still allowed to be here!" Gale growled. "Second of all, we
aren't
cis-het. I'm bisexual and Tempest-" he cut himself off. "Wait, sorry, I don't want to say it without your permission," he told Tempest quietly.
"Don't worry, I was just about to," Tempest smiled dryly. Then she turned to the other woman. "I'm an asexual, biromantic, transwoman."
The other woman's eyes suddenly went wide.
"W-w-well, you don't look it!" she tried to look defensive and huffy, but it was obvious that Tempest had left her shaken.
"It was getting too hot to wear my flags," Tempest gestured to a bag resting between her and Gale. She opened the top and, sure enough, two flags were visible inside. Tempest had only taken them off so that she wouldn't get them dirty while sitting on the grass.
The other woman said nothing, clearly at a loss for words now.
"Really, who are you to judge?" Now it was Gale's turn to give the other woman a dry smile. "Forcing people to out themselves just because they didn't seem to fit your narrative at first. Isn't Pride supposed to be a safe space for everyone?"
"Well, not cis-hets…" the other woman mumbled. Gale and Tempest both rolled their eyes. Even though they could understand the woman's annoyance, it was still obvious that she had some internal bias of her own.
"Well, maybe you should've at least had the flag sitting out," the woman gave one last attempt to justify her behavior, but it was still apparent that she knew she'd been beat. She was staring at the ground and, even now, she couldn't bring herself to meet Gale and Tempest's eyes.
"Maybe you shouldn't act like you know everything or demand to know someone else's orientation," Tempest replied calmly.
"Maybe you shouldn't act like sexuality is visible," Gale agreed. "And stop judging other people for how they dress. Even if it
is
heteronormative, that doesn't make it homo- or transphobic. Girls are allowed to wear dresses and guys are allowed to wear jeans and a tee. It wasn't some sexist statement, that's just what we both wanted to wear!"
"Right? If I wanted to listen to unfair dress codes, I'd go back to school!" Tempest laughed darkly. "But like Gale said, just because I'm wearing a feminine outfit doesn't mean I'm just perpetuating stereotypes. I just happen to enjoy dresses."
"Yeah, I didn't force her to wear that dress, ok? That was her choice, and I wasn't about to tell her she couldn't," Gale nodded. "I was just in a jeans and tee mood, but I certainly wasn't trying to make a statement!"
"Ok, fine, whatever!" the woman finally cut them off, tired of being lectured. "I'm wasting my time hanging around you guys anyway."
"You don't say?" Gale muttered. "Besides, the feeling is mutual…"
The woman glared at him again but began turning away to go.
"Oh, and one more thing," Tempest called out to her, then she raised her middle finger. But she wasn't just flipping the woman off. She was also revealing a small black ring. The woman grumbled under her breath before stalking away in defeat.
"Sheesh, who crapped in
her
cornflakes?" Gale sneered as soon as she was out of earshot.
"The cis-hets!" Tempest mocked the woman's voice, putting on an angry hiss. Gale burst out laughing.
"Oh, no! Not the…
cis-hets!" he joked, affecting a look of horror and pretending to swoon in terror. Soon, both he and Tempest were laughing up a storm. And before long, they'd forgotten all about their unexpected encounter, and it was nothing but sunshine and rainbows once again. It was a much nicer parade with
her
gone. And, as Gale and Tempest would later decide, the fireworks had been lovely, too.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"I have been in love with no one, and never shall," Carmilla whispered, "unless it should be with you." How beautiful she looked in the moonlight! Shy and strange was the look with which she quickly hid her face in Laura's neck and hair. She then pressed into Laura's a hand that trembled. Her soft cheek was glowing against her companion's.
"Darling, darling," she murmured, "I live in you, and you would die for me, I love you so."
"What can you mean by all of this?" Laura finally demanded, pulling out of Carmilla's embrace. Laura had come to care for Carmilla in the short few weeks that they had been together. But every once in a while, Carmilla would go off on strange reveries, and Laura would grow afraid and uncertain of her once again. As if they were still strangers, and Laura had no idea what to make of the situation. She never understood what the reveries meant. They came to Carmilla like momentary bouts of insanity, but there was nothing in Carmilla's health to indicate madness.
"I mean, simply, that I care for you dearly and deeply," Carmilla replied calmly. "Surely you can see that?"
"Of course I can, but why do you talk so strangely about your affections for me?" Laura implored.
"Because they run deeper than someone like you can possibly understand," Carmilla rested her head on Laura's shoulder again.
"And I don't suppose you will ever tell me?" Laura asked, but she had already resigned herself to a negative answer. Carmilla was incredibly secretive and had yet to disclose much of anything about her life, even to Laura, even though she claimed to trust Laura immensely.
As perhaps inappropriate as it was, Laura did always hope that when Carmilla spoke of love to her, especially in this way, that she meant it in a way that would keep the two of them together forever. Laura understood already, inherently, that such a desire was both uncouth and unfair to Carmilla herself, but as child raised in loneliness and isolation, Laura craved for human contact, especially with someone just like her. Carmilla had filled a void inside of Laura that Laura was only dimly aware of until now. But now that she was aware of it, she wanted nothing more than for Carmilla to stay. To stay forever and to keep that void from ever emptying.
If Carmilla would ever leave her, Laura was certain that the loneliness would be unbearable. Carmilla could not leave Laura after coming into her life so suddenly, and filling it with such new and interesting experiences. To lose Carmilla, and go back to the way things were, was something Laura dreaded, something she scarcely thought possible! How could she ever forget a life with Carmilla after having tasted it so far?
But sometimes her subconscious would prickle. She knew that this was but a temporary engagement, and someday, Carmilla would again leave the schloss, and there was no guarantee she would ever come back. Carmilla was never meant to be a permanent fixture in her life. Things were supposed to return to "normal" one day, but Laura did not want that. Instead, she hoped and dreamed, no matter how fanciful it was. She would pretend that Carmilla's fancy words and speeches were true, and that Carmilla would stay.
"You shall know all one day. In the meantime, you are not to trouble your head about it," Carmilla said.
"I ought not to have asked you," Laura sighed. Although Carmilla had denied to satisfy Laura's curiosity many times before, each new refusal still stung Laura just as much as the last.
"Dearest, your little heart is wounded. Think me not cruel because I obey the irresistible law of my strength and weakness. If your dear heart is wounded, my wild heart bleeds with yours!" Carmilla promised, taking Laura's hand in her own and squeezing it with a fond, possessive sort of pressure. It did nothing to placate Laura, serving only to increase her desire to know the truth of Carmilla's past. And her future.
But it was Laura's hope that even if she was not meant to share in Carmilla's future, then at the very least, she would someday be able to share in Carmilla's past. Carmilla would not be with Laura forever, as Laura knew well, so she wished to take in as much of the odd but charming girl as she could while there was still time. But Carmilla was stubborn and Laura feared that there would be nothing left of Carmilla for her to hold onto once Carmilla had departed again.
"When shall that day come?" Laura finally dared to ask. "When will the day come that you will finally confide in me? Will it be the day you leave me forever?" The young lady's voice broke as she finally dared to confess what had truly been plaguing her conscience for so long.
"Sooner than that," Carmilla promised. "For the day shall come that you understand all. And that you and I become one. But never shall the day come that I leave you."
Laura looked at the beautiful woman sadly. "How can that be?" she asked. "You surely have a home to return to, a mother…" she thought back to the night Carmilla had come to her, carriage crash and all, fierce woman in black leaving the young lady in the care of Laura and her father.
"Perhaps so," Carmilla answered. "But perhaps not. And what if you were to come with me?"
"Would Papa allow it?" Laura asked with a sigh. She loved her father dearly, but she knew he would never allow her to leave the schloss.
"Perhaps so," Carmilla repeated. "One cannot truly know what the future will hold. It is as ever-changing and mysterious as the moon!" The pretty lady broke off to stare at the moon, hanging in the midnight and surrounded by stars.
"But one can predict the moon's path, and phases," Laura reminded her friend as she looked up as well.
"To an extent," Carmilla said. "One can predict the moon's path and phases, but not the outcome of what they will cause."
Laura nodded, but said no more, unable to allow Carmilla to fill her head with more false hopes and dreams. Although she desired greatly for Carmilla to stay with her, she knew it was not to be. Even if Carmilla wished it as well, and even if Laura were allowed to leave with Carmilla when the time came for Carmilla to go home, Laura could feel that she and Carmilla would not find the happiness that they both so desired.
It was not just a matter of physically being together, but of spiritually being together. What was it that Carmilla had said? That she and Laura would someday become one? Surely it was just a fantasy! Because the promise that should've filled Laura with such hope and joy only filled her with sadness, and a foreboding sense of impending demise.
Laura feared that it was her fate to spend the rest of her life alone. She would never be able to have Carmilla in the way that she desired. Not now, nor ever. But she would never be able to forget the beautiful woman either. She would be trapped, frozen in time, for eternity. She could already feel it in her bones that their love would be like the moon: bright, only visible at night, surrounded by Heaven, and ever-waning into nothingness. It was only a matter of time before Carmilla's moon waned, and Laura would be left alone in darkness with nothing to guide her home.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Cap. What is this?" It was evident from his tone that Maxim was doing his best not to get angry.
"Uhhh, the shower drain?" Captain asked, genuinely not understanding why his husband looked so annoyed.
"Well, yes. But what's
in
it?"
"Uhhh, looks like… hair?"
"And why is it in there?"
"Oh! Uhhh, guess I must've forgotten to clean it up after last shower, heheh…" Captain gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. Maxim continued to frown at him, clearly neither amused nor impressed.
"Alright, alright, alright, I'll get it," Captain conceded, dropping to his hands and knees. He leaned towards the clogged drain. Yeesh! It was more clogged than he'd thought! But the mess didn't really bother him, so, after a small shrug, he tugged at the first strand of hair he could grab. Oooh! Stuck, stubborn little lock of hair, huh? But Captain would still not be deterred. Instead, with another shrug, he simply fixed his grip around the strand of hair and tugged harder. Ah, it still wouldn't budge! Not even a little! … Well…
That
might pose a problem!
"Now you see the problem," Maxim said patronizingly, as if he'd read Captain's mind.
"Yeah, I see your point," Captain admitted.
"Ugh, sometimes I wish you could be more like me!" Maxim lamented. He was completely bald, had no facial hair, and was even known to shave the rest of his body, too. By contrast, Maxim had to wonder if Captain even knew what a razor was. Or if he'd had any of his hair even
trimmed
in the last decade or so. The wild mass of brown hair that led from the top of his head into his Santa-like beard was reason enough to doubt.
"There's literally enough hair down there to make a coat!" Maxim cried. Captain looked thoughtfully at the drain.
"I
have
used my beard as a blanket before," he muttered. "I wonder if I
could
ever make a coat out of it."
"Oh, good lord, please don't!" Maxim groaned. Captain only laughed in reply.
"It's not
that
bad, is it?" he asked.
"Well, seeing as how even
you
couldn't tug any of it loose, I'd say it
is
that bad."
"Ok, fair enough. If I can't get it fixed after one more go, we can call a plumber."
"Good, I was just about to take a shower, too!"
"Don't worry, we'll fix it as fast as we can, and then you can have your shower, your hairlessness."
"Your hairlessness?" Maxim snorted. "At least it causes less problems than that overgrown forest you have!"
"Hey! I would've likened it to a glorious mane!" Captain stroked his giant beard.
"Just help me clean the drain!" Maxim interrupted.
"Alright, alright," Captain's eyes twinkled as he knelt back down.
A few minutes later, though, something else managed to clog the drain.
"Captain!" Maxim sighed and buried his face in his hand.
"Ooops," the larger man grinned sheepishly.
"Alright, hold on," Maxim sighed, then he stood up and grabbed some soap and hot water.
"You won't need a shower at this rate!" Captain joked.
"I can't believe you're taking this so lightly," Maxim replied as he proceeded to pour the soap and water over Captain's large hand. It didn't work.
"Wanna call the plumber now?" Captain joked.
"And tell them we have to get
you
unstuck from the drain in addition to all of your hair?" Maxim snorted.
Several minutes later, though, Maxim finally conceded.
"Fine, I'm calling a plumber," he sighed in resignation before standing back up and exiting the bathroom. Five minutes later, he was back. He looked even more annoyed than before.
"Don't tell me they aren't able to do anything about it?" Captain asked.
"Well, they won't have anyone available for at least an hour, if not more," Maxim sighed ruefully.
"Well, that's not
terrible, right?"
"You aren't seriously suggesting you don't mind being stuck in a shower drain indefinitely?" Maxim shook his head in disbelief.
"Well, no. But I suppose it
is
a fair punishment," Captain admitted.
"No way, I'm not leaving you stuck in a drain!" Maxim insisted. As annoying as the hair thing was, he wasn't going to leave his husband
stuck in a shower drain
as some sort of karma!
But 10 minutes later, still nothing was working.
"Wait! Why didn't I think of it sooner?!" Captain's eyes went wide. "Call Iris!"
"Iris? How's she supposed to help?" Maxim was so caught off guard by Captain's sudden revelation that he was too surprised to be incredulous.
"Her decaying powers, don't you remember?" Captain replied.
"Oh no,
absolutely
not!" Maxim straightened up, eyes flashing. "She could ruin the drain, and your hand!"
"Well, I trust her," Captain shrugged.
"Accidents happen, though? Do you really want to risk it?" Maxim continued to push.
"Would you rather me just wait here indefinitely?" Captain asked back, tugging on his stuck hand for effect.
They continued to argue for a little while longer before, once again, Maxim finally conceded. Unlike the plumber, Iris was able to come over right away. In just under half an hour, she was kneeing beside Captain and using her power to carefully erode the metal away from Captain's hand. It pained Maxim to watch her destroy their shower drain, but it was a necessary evil. By causing the metal to rust and weaken and chip away, the drain was getting bigger. That made it easier for Captain to slip his fingers back out.
At the same time, though, Iris also used her power to decay the hair that had caused all the problems to begin with. Even though she wasn't really able to touch it, since Captain's hand was in the way, she had enough control over her powers to still be able to "feel" where everything was. She could sense where living flesh, metal and hair met and ended, so never once did she accidentally harm Captain. Instead, she was able to completely destroy all the hair in the drain until the drain was totally clean and empty once again. Then, after just under 10 minutes of careful concentration, Captain was finally able to rip his fingers free.
"Yes!" he cheered.
"They all still in working order?" Iris asked, sitting up as well. Captain wiggled his fingers.
"Seems so! Thank you, Iris!"
"My pleasure," Iris smiled back at Captain. "And I was able to clear the rest of the drain out for you as well."
"Awww, double thank you!" Captain beamed at Iris. Then he turned to his husband as he stood up. "See, Maxy? All's well that ends well!"
"Pfft, whatever?" Maxim's arms were still crossed and he rolled his eyes, torn between relief and annoyance. He was relieved that Captain was safely out of the drain, but he was annoyed that Captain still managed to be so nonchalant about the entire ordeal. But Maxim was not totally without kindness. His face softened as he turned to Iris.
"Thanks for all your help today, I am genuinely glad you could make it out here, and that you were willing to," he said.
"My pleasure!" Iris repeated pleasantly. It was a rare day to receive such praise from Maxim!
"But let's try to never have a repeat of this day ever again, ok?" Maxim was talking to both of them now.
"Aye, aye, captain!" Captain joked, saluting Maxim.
"Well, if you
do
ever need my help again, you have my number!" Iris also joked.
"Yes, and I appreciate that, but if that will be all, I'd like to take my shower now," Maxim was getting less subtle with his hints. It finally sank in and Iris and Captain chuckled to themselves before Iris politely headed out.
"Sooooo, now that it's just you and me here, how about that shower?" Captain asked.
"Oh, no. Absolutely not. You were
not
invited!" Maxim grunted, pushing the man towards the bathroom door after Iris.
"Oh, what? Come on! Pretty please?" Although Captain looked more like a bear than anything, he still knew how to put on an adorable and amazing puppy face. Perhaps it came from all the facial hair, or maybe it was from his bright brown eyes, either way, not even stoic Maxim was immune to such a precious and pleading expression.
"Oh, fine! But if you get
anything
stuck in the drain again, I'm never showering with you again!" Maxim grunted as he started to strip. Captain was more than happy to watch, Maxim
did
always have such a tight, toned body…
"I find that hard to believe," he joked, stripping down as well. Though he was strong and muscular, too, he wasn't as toned as Maxim. His muscles were hidden under a layer of fat, but that was just his body type! He was an endomorph, but it would be a mistake to assume he was out of shape.
"Don't test me," Maxim replied with a shrug.
"Well, remember, Iris
did
have to corrode part of the drain. I don't think anything's going to get stuck down there
now."
"Don't test it," Maxim replied.
"I mean, I won't try to, but I make no promises!" Captain gave Maxim a playful wink, then he opened the shower curtain and bowed dramatically.
"After you, your hairlessness!" he said. Maxim rolled his eyes, but he conceded to step inside with Captain following after.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

As the days passed, Carmilla's displays of affection increased in frequency and intensity. Elle never said a word against any of it, but it made her blush whenever Carmilla kissed her, or left a hand on her leg for just a little too long. Elle was no longer able to meet the eyes of some of her keener servants. She knew what was doing was wrong, but it just felt so
good. Carmilla just felt so
right. In both word and deed, Elle loved everything that Carmilla did, and she could never bring herself to tell Carmilla to stop.
"I am such a coward," Elle sighed.
"What do you mean?" Carmilla asked, sounding hurt that Elle would speak so negatively of herself.
"You shower me in kisses and affection. You have feelings for me, do you not?" Elle replied.
For a moment, Carmilla said nothing, but then she began to nod, and with that all-too-familiar voice, husky and fervent, she agreed.
"I do, Elle, I do. I love you more than anything in the world, and it would bring me great pleasure to know you feel the same!" she said.
"But that's just it, Carmilla!" Elle exclaimed. "I don't know if I do."
"You don't know if you love me?" Carmilla sounded hurt and Elle instantly felt bad.
"I mean, I do," she amended. "But I am afraid."
"Of what? You know I'd never hurt you," Carmilla promised, taking Elle's hand into her own.
"I know
you
wouldn't, but what of the rest of the world?" Elle asked. "What if someone were to find out?"
"You needn't worry about that, darling," Carmilla promised softly, kissing Elle's cheek and dragging her lips across her friend's skin. "I won't let anybody hurt you, ever. I promise you that."
Just for that moment, Elle's fears had been assuaged, and she felt a little bit braver. But it seemed that all good things had to come to an end eventually. Scarcely a month later, a horrifying truth came to light.
"Your guest, Carmilla, is not all that she claims to be!" Elle turned to see an elderly woman flagging her down from across the marketplace.
"Wh-what? H-how do you know Carmilla?" Elle was frightened, but curiosity drove her to the other woman.
"It doesn't matter
how
I know her! What matters is
what
I know!" the woman insisted urgently. "She is a
vampire!"
At first, Elle had nearly laughed, certain the old woman was just delusional, but as she began to argue her case, more and more evidence came to light. But what frightened Elle more than finding out that Carmilla was a vampire was realizing that maybe Carmilla didn't love her after all. One of the things the woman told her was that vampires did not have the ability to love. The closest they could get was a twisted obsession.
"They feel nothing for anything or anyone, except themselves!" the woman insisted. "If she showed you any sort of affection, it was only because she saw you as valuable to her, not because she actually cared about
you as a person!"
So… all of Carmilla's words and promises, and her kisses and caresses… it had all only just been a lie.
ooo
"I should've known. I should've realized! I should've suspected… But I didn't! I didn't… I was too afraid…" Elle paced her library, waiting for Carmilla to arrive. It scared her to death to do this, but she
had
to. She had to be sure! And the only way to do that was to confront the vampire herself. "I should've known someone like her could never
really
love someone like me… It was too good to be true…"
But right until the very last second, Elle held out the foolish hope that Carmilla would be able to assuage her fears one last time. Maybe it was all just a big misunderstanding! Maybe Carmilla wasn't really a vampire after all, and maybe she still loved Elle just the same! But alas, it was not to be. One little slip on Carmilla's part confirmed the mysterious woman's claims. Carmilla was a vampire.
"You're a monster…" Elle breathed, hardly able to believe it. Carmilla had never loved her at all. All of her talk of a new life, that had been nothing more than Carmilla's continued attempts to keep Elle complacent. She'd only ever told Elle what she
wanted
to hear. And Carmilla's honeyed lies had worked perfectly.
But the greatest pain of all was the shame. Even if Carmilla's love had been a lie, Elle's had not. Now, she felt like a damn fool! And even more than that, she'd agonized so much over her relationship with Carmilla, so to find out that all of it had been born of a lie nullified all of Elle's efforts to make peace with herself and her sexuality. After coming so close to accepting herself for who she was, it all felt dirty now, knowing Carmilla's two big secrets.
Elle cursed herself again. She should've known. She should've known that her sinful desires would come back to haunt her eventually. She had just been too much a coward to believe it at first. But now? It seemed as if society had been right after all. There was a reason same-sex attraction was considered unnatural. Only unnatural, demonic creatures like vampires would ever consider such a backward lifestyle. Just as their status as undead was a perversion against life, their homosexual desires were a perversion against love. Elle just hadn't wanted to accept it until now.
And to think! She'd just come to terms with the fact that she was a… a… well… a lesbian. Now here she was, finding out that the very girl she'd fallen for was a literal demon. But again, perhaps she should've known. What good Christian girl fell in love with someone of the same sex? Elle was soon just as disgusted by herself as she was by Carmilla.
ooo
After that, Elle surrendered Carmilla to the strange woman from the village. She claimed that she would take Elle traveling in Carmilla's stead, since Carmilla was not safe to be around. But in yet another ironic and karmic turn, that woman betrayed Elle just as soon as Elle was done betraying Carmilla. But perhaps… perhaps Elle deserved it.
"A cowardly fate for a cowardly person," she muttered as she entered the dark, underground chamber. She quickly realized that she was not the only one there. Alongside the woman from the village, the woman who had kidnapped her and taken her here, there were four other girls, all just like her.
"Well, the party is just about to begin," the woman sounded satisfied as she brought the five girls together.
"Party?" Elle echoed, tongue heavy and voice not quite her own.
"Yes, party," the woman replied, then she gestured dead ahead and, suddenly, the entire chamber was flooded with light. There was a giant pit, and light brighter than the sun was emanating from it.
Elle instantly sensed danger and every part of her was begging her to run away, but at the same time, she suddenly felt deeply compelled to step even closer to that hypnotic blaze.
"Party. I want to go to the party," Elle droned softly, unseeing and unthinking. "Party… Light… So beautiful…" And she was vaguely aware of the other four girls muttering the same thing, sounding just as subdued as she was.
Elle finally reached the edge of the pit. She leaned down and recoiled at once as she saw Carmilla's face looking up at her, frozen in a silent scream. She heard the phantom scream her name once, then the vision vanished. But it was just enough. It woke Elle up and, suddenly, she was in control again. This was her chance to escape! To run! To be free… To live again… But she didn't take it. She was too scared to even try.
It was as if Carmilla's scream had broken her trance, but with the trance gone, Elle was left with nothing. Nothing except cowardice. Just as it had always been. So when the time finally came to choose fight or flight, Elle choose to freeze. She was scared of the pit, yes, but she was even more scared of the woman who'd brought her to it.
Her cowardice pushed her on one last time, and when hers was finally up, she jumped willingly into the bright, endless light. But why not? She had nothing else to live for. No other reason to stay. Carmilla was gone, her father would surely figure out the truth, and her name would be disgraced forevermore. But even if she'd managed to escape all of that, surely the woman from the village would hunt her down until she'd been recaptured. So truly, her life was over. There was no rhyme or reason in going on. So Elle jumped. She wasn't pushed, or mind-controlled.
"Maybe it's better this way,"Elle thought sadly. "My pain will finally be over, and I won't be able to hurt anyone else ever again. No one will miss me anyway. This is the punishment I deserve."
She had no place among the land of the living anymore. Not after all of her cowardice and betrayals. And according to society, she would have no place among them after all of the things she'd shared with Carmilla, love and blood both. She was corrupted now, a stain that needed to be purified and cleansed. If this was how she could remove herself from the equation, then so be it.
But as cruel fate would have it, Elle would one day come to regret her decision to jump. She would regret not at least trying to fight or flee. But that was what cowardice did to a person. It trapped them and then blinded them with every "what if" and "if only". Now, Elle was left with nothing. Nothing except cowardice. Just as it had always been. And that was how it would always remain. Just like the light emanating from the pit, it would be bright, burning and everlasting.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Princeton watched as Quincy fired several arrows into the targets hanging on the back wall of the training area. His shots weren't perfect, but they were still pretty good. Every arrow hit fairly close to the center of each target.
"So, how come you've taken to archery?" Princeton asked, knowing that Quincy usually preferred to fight with blunt or melee weapons.
"Ah, just a hobby," Quincy shrugged as he shot another target.
"Oh, let me guess, it's a competition with Emma?" Princeton quirked an eyebrow and smirked. Emma was another one of their close friends, but like the two of them,
she
was the one to specialize in archery.
"What? No! Don't be ridiculous!" Quincy laughed and shook his head, but Princeton still had his doubts. Then, as if the universe itself had been eavesdropping on them, Quincy's phone vibrated. Since Quincy had left it on the far side of the gym, Princeton was able to reach it first. It was a text message from Emma herself. Or rather, it was a video. In the video, Emma was also practicing archery. But the point of the video wasn't just to show off her skills. Instead, she was shooting an entire wall rather than just a few targets. And once she was finally done, she stepped back to reveal that she'd written the word GAY using the arrows.
"Not a competition, eh?" Princeton chuckled before handing the phone to its owner.
"Shut up," Quincy grunted embarrassedly, but he put his bow down long enough to watch the video. Just as it finished, he received another text. It was another video, only this time, it was starring one of their other friends, Mallory. Now it was
her
turn to pick up the bow and arrow. She shot 10 arrows all in short succession, but similar to Emma's video, what it impressive was not the speed or marksmanship, but rather, what she'd done to the arrows. At the end of the video, Emma walked over to them. They were all in a perfect, descending line and tiny flags were hanging from their sides. Each flag had a letter, so the 10 arrows spelled out PRIDE MONTH.
The video concluded with Emma and Mallory both laughing at the camera and teasing the recipient. "Beat that! If you can!"
"So
that's
what all of this was for," Princeton laughed.
"Maybe," Quincy muttered embarrassedly, setting the phone back down.
"What were you planning on doing?" Princeton asked, amused. "How are you going to top that?"
"Like this!" Quincy sounded proud as he removed his shirt. There, written in gold marker across his chest, were the words ARO ACE. And underneath, on his stomach, there was a golden outline of someone aiming a bow at an unseen target.
"Wooooowwww," Princeton rolled his eyes but he couldn't stop a laugh.
"I was hoping to get a video of me shooting some arrows before the camera would zoom in to my chest," he said. "And then I would be in the same stance as the painted archer as it zoomed back out."
"And that's why you called me here, wasn't it?" Princeton guessed, still laughing. "You needed a cameraman."
"Yep!" Quincy confirmed. "So, what do you say? Wanna help a brother out?"
"Absolutely!" Princeton was quick to take Quincy's phone again. This was going to be so cringeworthy, hilarious and awesome!
Quincy put his shirt back on and picked up the bow confidently. Then, with Princeton filming, he shot several targets. At the end of the little montage, he whipped around to face the camera and removed his shirt dramatically. Stifling giggles, Princeton zoomed in on Quincy's painted torso, and then he zoomed back out as Quincy took the same position as the archer on his chest. Then, in a comically deep voice, Quincy said this:
"This is just your awesome Arrow Ace wishing you a Happy Pride Month! I hope you know that you are valid and loved. And you matter no matter your gender or orientation! … But, you'll never be as cool as the great and mighty Arrow Ace!"
Then Quincy gave a dramatic, flourishing bow and Princeton ended the video before bursting into a fit of laughter.
"God, they're going to hate it so much!" he snorted.
"And that's exactly why we're sending it!" Quincy laughed back, taking the phone to text Emma and Mallory. "Oh, and get over here for a sec! I wanna take a selfie with ya!"
"You're not going to ask
me
to do anything archery related, are you?" Princeton joked. "You know I can't do anything straight, much less shoot!"
"No, just a selfie, you'll see!" Quincy's eyes were full of mischief as he dragged Princeton over and raised the phone, camera front-facing.
As soon as he had the selfie, he began to giggle and his fingers flew across the phone's tiny keyboard.
"What are you sending, anyway?!" Princeton laughed, trying to snatch the phone from Quincy.
"Hang on! You'll see!" Quincy managed to say through breathless laughter. Then, right after he hit the "send" button, he all but shoved the phone into Princeton's face. Underneath the selfie was the caption, "Camerawork was done by the Pan-tastic Pan-ston Cross. You can tell it's him because no one pans(exual) a camera quite as well as he does. Happy Pride Month, my dudes!"
"Seriously, dude?" Princeton asked, but he was laughing just as hard as Quincy had been just a couple seconds ago. And miles and miles away, two girls crowded around a phone, laughing over the video and the text, smiling at the last five words of the message.
Happy Pride Month, my dudes!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Alright, Maggie, what color is
this?" Marni teased as she held up an apple from the fridge.
"Red, Marni, red," Mag replied with an affectionate eyeroll as she sat at the kitchen table. "But I think
everyone
would know
that
because I
told
you I wanted an apple and that's everyone's default choice when asked to find something red!" she laughed.
"Oh, whatever," Marni pretended to pout before tossing the apple to Mag. Mag caught it easily and took a bite.
"Delicious!" she smiled. It was early morning and the two of them were making breakfast. Or rather,
Marni
was making breakfast. Mag had made it yesterday, so now it was Marni's turn.
"Well, how many seeds are there?" Marni asked next, raising her eyebrows challengingly.
"Marni, come on, you don't need eyes to count. If you can just feel the seeds, that's good enough!" Mag snickered.
"Ok, you know what? When I have a kid, I'll play with
them
instead of you, because Heaven knows they won't be as sassy!" Marni promised.
"As if you can keep your future children away from me," Mag laughed. "They'll love me far more than you!"
"Bet!" Marni challenged, playfully slamming her palm on the kitchen counter.
"Alright, go find Nathan," Mag accepted the challenge, jerking her thumb over her shoulder.
"What's up?" a new voice asked. Ah, speak of Devils and they do appear!
"Mag's trying to talk crap about your future children!" Marni accused the second Nathan stepped into the kitchen.
"That seems to happen a lot," Nathan replied, lips quirking as he kissed them both on his way in. "What was it this time?"
"She said that the kids would love her more than me!" Marni took on a dramatic expression.
"To be honest, she's probably right," Nathan replied. Marni's dramatic expression turned to one of outrage and Nathan laughed as he began backing up quickly, trying to evade the wrath of his feistier wife. It was early morning at the Wallace household and, already, their antics were starting up. Nathan's other wife, however, continued to sit at the kitchen table, laughing at the sight unfolding before her.
Being born blind and raised in an orphanage meant that life was seldom kind to Mag, and what little physical contact she did receive usually wasn't good. That wasn't to say her orphanage was bad or abusive, but it was severely understaffed, and with children and adults both dying left and right because of the organ failure, things were in a constant state of turmoil. Honestly, it was a surprise Mag hadn't joined the ranks of the dead yet. Even though her eyes had been the only problem, that still did put her at a severe disadvantage. And yet, she'd survived long to find Marni.
The two of them met in high school and Marni seemed one of the only people to not mind Mag's blindness. On the contrary, the only thing she ever said about it was that, someday, she would get Mag some working eyes. And somehow, she managed to keep that promise! And that was how they both met Nathan, the man who'd operated on Mag. The attraction between all three was fast, strong and mutual.
Six months after the operation, the three entered a polyamorous relationship, and they'd been a happy trio ever since.
"I've got two hands, so why not fill em both?" Marni joked as she held Mag's hand in her left and Nathan's in her right. And that just about summed up their relationship. Even though Nathan and Mag had been a little uncertain in the beginning, Marni was able to help them see that a polyamorous relationship was feasible. And, for Mag in particular, Marni had reassured her that their relationship could be equal even if it wasn't always sexual, since Mag was strictly lesbian. So long as communication and consent were there, it could work! And as it turned out, Marni was totally right.
Mag had come to realize that she could be happy in a relationship with a man, despite being a lesbian. They would just keep it nonsexual. And Nathan was more than happy to agree to that. For Marni, though, it was romantic AND sexual, on both sides, just never at the same time. But just as Marni said, because communication and consent were there, it all managed to work itself out fairly well. Maybe in the beginning, things had been a little rocky, but by now, they definitely had it down pat. They were finally starting to talk about having children, after all.
"There are three of us, so we could have three of them," Marni suggested, half joking and half serious.
"The more the merrier, eh?" Nathan smiled, joining her at the fridge.
"You're just saying that because it means you get to spend more time in bed with Marni," Mag teased, winking at the other two.
"I am not!" Nathan was quick to protest and blush while Marni laughed.
"Don't be jealous, Maggie. Every night I spend with him, I'll spend one with you."
"Well, in that case, have as many kids as you want!" Mag laughed. By this time, Nathan had buried his face in his hands, flustered.
"Should we get started now, or…?" Marni asked teasingly, giving Nathan a look.
"Oh, please don't!" Now it was Mag's turn to cover her face. "I wish I was still blind!" she joked.
"Oh, shut up!" Marni playfully stuck her tongue out at her wife.
"Look, why don't we take it one step at a time and just have breakfast for now?" Nathan finally pleaded, interrupting his wives' flirting.
"Alright, honey," Marni murmured seductively. "What did you want to eat?"
"Bacon!" Nathan made his way to the stove. It may not have been his turn to cook, but if it got him away from the early morning advances…
Mag and Marni both began laughing while Nathan pretended to grumble as he pulled out a pan and some bacon. But after long enough, things finally settled into a peaceful rhythm.
"Oh! Was
that
the dress you wore to prom?" Mag asked, interested. Marni was showing her some old photos just to spoil her a little. Mag may have had her eyes for a while now, but there was still a lot left for her to look at and enjoy. And Marni, of course, wanted to tease it out bit by bit. That made it even more enjoyable, both for her
and
Mag!
"Yep, it was a little tight, but I think it still looks good," Marni sounded satisfied as she looked at the photos with Mag.
"More than that! It's so beautiful!" Mag continued to marvel.
Nathan, meanwhile, continued to listen to his wives talk and laugh while he made breakfast. This was the one advantage to an early morning, just getting to enjoy life as it was without having to worry about anyone or anything else. It was just the three of them, and to Nathan, that was more than enough.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Copper eyes opened slowly. Bright light met dark pupils. Copper eyes narrowed to dull the pain. A body in a white gown sat up slowly.
"Ah! You're up!" A cheerful voice echoed off to the side. The figure in the bed turned towards the voice.
"Who are you?"
"Don't you recognize me? I'm your doctor!"
Slowly, names and faces came back to the patient. His name was Rexus Malik, and he'd just finished receiving top surgery. Her name was Lisa Lockewood. And as she'd said, she was one of the people who helped complete that surgery.
"Oh, right! Hey, Dr. Lockewood," Rexus sat up slowly, voice somewhat raspy from disuse.
"How do you feel?" Dr. Lockewood asked, interested.
"Different," Rexus gave her a rueful smile. "I know it's a cliché answer, but-"
"No, not at all!" Dr. Lockewood laughed. "It's to be expected, after all! You
did
just undergo a fairly major surgery. Is anything causing you pain?"
"Ummm, I don't think so…" Rexus instinctively raised his hands to his chest.
So, they were gone. They were really gone! Without even meaning to, he began to laugh. His laugh was full of relief, triumph and pure bliss. He didn't care how strange he looked, sitting on an operating table in a hospital gown, touching his own chest and laughing like a maniac. It felt so
good
to finally have the chest he wanted! After years of waiting, dream had finally become reality. How could he
not
celebrate?
All the while, Dr. Lockewood watched him with a warm, supportive smile. There was nothing that made her happier than seeing patients like this. And Rexus was such a sweet, good-natured guy. If anyone deserved this kind of happiness, it was him!
"Ah, wait, is there anything I need to do now?" Rexus asked, finally coming down from his high long enough to address Dr. Lockewood again.
"Well, of course, there will be recovery pains," she said. "And you will need to refrain from doing anything too physically strenuous."
"But is everything else is ok?" Rexus asked. As his consciousness returned to him, so did the urgency he felt about his operation.
"Yes, dear," Dr. Lockewood said. "The surgery is done, the payment is done, the paperwork is being drafted as we speak. You should be free to go very soon!"
"As a new man," Rexus nodded, exhaling softly in wonder at the thought.
"As a new man," Dr. Lockewood echoed, flashing him another proud smile. Then, after performing one last check, she departed. She was going to fetch the paperwork, and Rexus' family, who were all waiting eagerly outside. But for the few minutes he was alone, Rexus got to simply lie back in the peace and quiet and revel in his post-op body. A new man!
"Now
this
is how I'm supposed to feel!" he muttered to himself as he continued to inspect his new body. He looked and felt so much better!
Then, a few minutes later, it was time to show the rest of his family the new him! His father and little sister were there, but his mother was back home, preparing a party for his return.
"It'll be a big change," Dr. Lockewood warned Rexus as they headed out to greet his family.
"Don't I know it," Rexus was grinning from ear to ear. Yes, it was going to be a big change, but a welcome one for sure!
"Ah! The man of the hour!" The first one to greet Rexus was his sister, Oliver. She hopped up and ran over to him with wide and eager eyes. "Wow! Nice chest!"
"Ah! That's my boy! It's so good to see you looking like this! All went well, I hope?" Rexus was the next to rise, looking back and forth between him and the doctor with a pleased, expectant look on his face.
"As far as we know," Dr. Lockewood nodded. She did warn him that future troubles may arise, but at the moment, everything was perfectly fine.
At the same time, Rexus was still showing off to Oliver.
"I feel like a new man now!" he bragged, flexing and posing.
"Well, the new you is quite grandiose!" Oliver teased, poking his muscle as he continued to flex.
She'd always been his biggest supporter, she was even the very first one Rexus had ever come out too! As she had even told him, she didn't care if he was sister or brother. He was sibling all the same, and that's how it would always be. And she'd made good on her word through Rexus' entire transition, back from when he first came out to all throughout his hormone therapy to now, the day of his top surgery.
"God, I can't wait to go out shirtless!" he declared.
"Oooh, yeah, show off them pecs!" Oliver clapped and laughed.
"Although you might want to give your scars just a bit more time to heal," Dr. Lockewood cautioned. "Don't want them getting infected or anything.""Oh, don't worry, I'll be careful!" Rexus promised.
"Well, whenever you are finally able go out shirtless, I get dibs on seeing your pecs first," Oliver joked, earning a laugh from everyone else.
"Alright, I promise," Rexus decided to humor her.
"But first things first, we have to get home and show your mother!" Rexus' father clapped his shoulder, smiling proudly.
The trio finalized their paperwork and, once said they said goodbye to Dr. Lockewood, finally headed out. Rexus greeted the summer sun with a smile.
"Look out, world, a new man is here and he's ready to rock and roll!"

AN: Shout-out to the friend who helped me write this fic! He knows who he is!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Even
those guys
came back?!" Beca shook her head in disbelief as the Tonehangers walked on by. A few of them tried to flash her smiles and finger-guns, but being as aged and ridiculous as they were, it came off as more annoying than anything.
"Well, the new Bellas
did
state that this Pride was open to any and
all
alums," Theo said as he and Beca made their way across campus. The first stop on their journey was to visit Beca's father. It was clear he still wished Beca had chosen a more reputable career, but because she was working a fairly decent job, he really had no more room to complain. Instead, he'd found it within himself to tell her that he was proud of her, and he didn't try bringing up her stepmom either. His parting gift was a small, rainbow bandana. It was a surprising gesture, but Beca had the grace to take it with a simple "thank you" before she and Theo headed back outside.
"Here," Beca shoved the bandana at Theo as soon as they were out of Beca's father's office.
"Wait, you don't want-?"
"Nah, I've got plenty of Pride stuff already." As much as she appreciated the gift, it still felt a little forced, so that was why she didn't want it.
"How do I look? Sexy?" he joked.
"Oh, yes, absolutely," Beca deadpanned and rolled her eyes, but they both knew she was amused. "You're just oozing sensuality and power."
"Hell yeah!" Theo smiled broadly.
He and Beca continued to walk through the crowded and rainbow-ridden campus. The sun was high and warm, and the sky was cloudless.
"So, when are your other Bellas going to arrive?" Theo asked.
"Should be soon," Beca replied, checking her phone. "They're coming in from all over, so it makes sense that we may not have the "complete collection" until late tonight. But that's when the fun can
really
begin!" she grinned, but when she caught the surprised look on Theo's face, she was quick to amend her words. "And I meant that in a totally, nonsexual way, like, none of us are planning on, like, doing the do. You know?" she asked.
"Ah, well, no judgement either way. It is Pride Month after all," Theo shrugged, his surprise already fading away.
"Well,
I'm
not planning on doing anything. Or anyone. But I'm sure Cynthia, Jessica and Ashley will be delighted," Beca snickered.
"Hell yeah we will!" Two voices caught Beca by surprise. She and Theo turned to see Jessica and Ashley (or was it Ashley and Jessica?) standing side by side, totally covered in rainbows.
"Hey!" Beca opened her arms excitedly. She may not have been the world's most cuddly person, but in a moment like this, a small hug was ok. The other two girls responded accordingly, returning Beca's hug with equal fondness. The three of them exchanged pleasantries and Beca was able to learn that the two had since gotten married, and both had become teachers at some nice little elementary school the next state over. It was the first place they'd ever gone to that didn't ever mix them up, since one of them taught math and the other taught English.
"That's great!" Beca cried, some of the rainbow paint on their bodies rubbing onto Beca's. "Have you seen any of the others?"
"I know Aubrey is here with Stacie," Jessica (or Ashley) said. "And I'm pretty sure Chloe and Chicago are coming too."
"Great! Any idea where?" Beca replied.
"Not at all," the Jessica and Ashley replied in unison, smiling helplessly as they gestured to the thousands of rainbow bodies around them.
"Yeah, well, we're still all meeting up later, right? The old Bella House?" Beca asked.
"Of course!" Ashley (or Jessica) replied with a smile. This was an added perk of the Pride. Alumni were allowed to stay in the houses they used to live in if the current residents allowed it, and the new Bellas had ben more than happy to open their doors to the old ones.
The three old Bellas shared a few more pleasantries before they finally parted ways.
"So, remind me which is which?" Theo whispered as soon as Jessica and Ashley were out of earshot.
"Beats me," Beca shrugged. Theo gave her another surprised look, but he didn't push the issue further.
The next Bellas Beca ended up meeting were Cynthia and Lilly/Esther. Cynthia had, just as promised, joined the military. Although she was still struggling with flight school, she was doing better than before, and now had the average of losing 125 fake people instead of 350. With her was a woman Beca had only met a couple times before. Her name was Mary. She'd met Cynthia during a boot camp session and was the woman Cynthia had gotten hitched to at the end of her senior year. And it had only ever been her busy military schedule that kept her from meeting the others sooner.
"Pleased to make your proper acquaintance," Mary told Beca and Theo playfully, and they returned the greeting politely.
"I'm glad to know we'll get more than five minutes together," Beca told Cynthia's wife.
"Me too," Mary laughed. "It'll be nice to get to know all of you properly, rather than just relying on Cynthia's stories!"
"Hey, and what's wrong with my stories?" Cynthia pretended to get offended.
Then, after Beca was finished visiting Cynthia, that was when she ran into Esther.
"I'm ready to get crunk," Esther grinned as soon as she and Beca met up. With her was Donald, an old Treblemaker, and Young Sparrow. He had been DJ Dragon Nutz's partner during the USO tour and although DJ was here at the Pride Fest, he and Young Sparrow were no longer in the music industry together, both of them having gone their separate ways. Esther had swooped in and started dating Young not long after the USO tour.
And then, somewhere along the way, she ended up reconnecting with Donald, an old flame from Barden. Even though he was just as shocked as anyone to hear that Lilly was only ever Satan in Esther's body, he was still perfectly willing to accept her just as she was and he ended up in a polyamorous relationship with her and Y.S.
"It's gonna be fresh and freaky!" Y.S. agreed excitedly. He and Esther proceeded to trade pieces of gum that they were chewing, grossing Beca and Theo out considerably. Donald didn't speak, but the content look on his face said it all. He loved Y.S. and Esther both, and even though their habits were weird, and sometimes gross, he was still incredibly happy with how life was going right now.
As the day continued, Beca ended up running into Fat Amy at Flo's Juice Cart which, as she had promised, had since become a full franchise. She sold an array of drinks, just like always, but today, everything was Pride related. She promised that a portion of proceeds would go to LGBT-based charity, and then some would also go to an emergency fund in case someone ever tried to hijack her truck and she would have to resort to living off the land until she could get a new one.
Amy was with Bumper, guzzling "Pride Punch" through one of those stupid twirly straws that was bent in the shape of a heart. It was a sickeningly sweet display, but Beca was too happy to see Amy to care.
"Amy!" she shouted as she and Theo ran over.
"Beca!" Amy seemed just as excited to see Beca as Beca was to see her, but since her mouth was full of punch, it sounded more like "Beccshhaa!"
Then Amy reached out for a hug, despite the fact that her hands were covered in something that Beca hoped was just icing.
"Oh, wait a minute! Oh, no!" Beca tried to step away from Amy, but to no avail. Amy easily scooped Beca up into her arms and began to hug her with more strength than Jessica and Ashley combined.
Theo and Bumper watched in amusement, though Bumper's expression was way more smug and way less concerned about Beca. But after long enough, Amy finally set Beca down.
"How you been?!" Amy demanded excitedly.
"I've been wonderful!" Beca replied with a grin. "Things are really picking up for me with DJ Khaled."
"As if they hadn't been from the get-go," Theo reminded her with a smile. Beca grinned at him shyly.
"Awww yeah!" Amy fist-pumped the air and Flo whistled approvingly.
"How about you two?" Beca asked back.
"Well, as you can see, I have become a successful enterprise," Flo began, gesturing to her van. "It is my goal to continue to spread across America until Flo's Fresh Fix is a household name! I've already got plans for tee shirts and cups!" she added, pointing to a large stack of papers tucked into the corner of the van. They were sketches and budgets on how she would expand her little empire. "First, America. Then, the world!" she raised her fists in triumph, but before she could say more, someone on the other side of the van began banging on the door, asking for a drink, and Flo was forced to turn away so that she could give them what was called a 'Love is Love' lemonade.
"How about you, Amy?" Beca asked. As she got to look at Amy, she couldn't help but laugh internally. Amy was even more decked out in Pride gear than Jessica, Ashley, Cynthia, Esther or Mary had been. Her hair was completed dyed, she was in full drag makeup, and she wore a rainbow version of one of her Amy Winehouse show outfits.
Funnily enough, it had actually been at one of her shows where she and Bumper reunited. Bumper had been trying to spend a night out on the town to take his mind off of his life when he wound up running into Amy, of all people. Old wounds reopened and he had felt his butt tingle. Or more specifically, it was that part of his butt where Amy's face was tattooed.
From that moment on, Bumper had followed all of Amy's shows, looking for a chance to speak to her again. Finally, he jumped onto the stage of one of her shows, pretending to be Bumper Reg Traviss (not a very creative name). But Beca did have to give Bumper props for one thing, Reg actually
was
a real person and he'd been Amy Winehouse's last great love before her death by alcohol poisoning, (ironic, given her surname).
After that little stunt, Bumper had managed to win back Amy's heart and they'd been touring and traveling together ever since!
"So, what do you think of the shirt?" Amy asked with a sexual grin, gesturing to it. It was her face photoshopped onto Amy Winehouse's body and, underneath, it read "Gay-my Winehouse".
"Uhhh, it's wonderful," Beca gave Amy a forced grin as she took in that… amazing work of photoshop art.
"Yeah, and see, do you get it? Do you get my shirt? Because her name is Amy and my name is Amy and that sounds like Gay and it's a Gay Pride Parade so her name is Gay-my, like Gay-Amy? Get it?" Amy implored excitedly.
"Yes, Amy, we get it," Beca said, slowly raising her hands in order to get Amy to calm down and stop talking. "The joke just wasn't good."
"Ah well, some people just can't appreciate art, can they?" Amy shrugged in response to Beca's remark before throwing an arm around Bumper.
"Not everyone can be as fantastically and amazingly awesome as us!" he agreed with a smug smirk. Beca didn't even bother trying to smile at him.
"Speaking of which, how's that second butt tattoo?" Amy asked next.
"Second?!" Beca and Theo both exclaimed, but when Beca realized that Theo hadn't even heard the story behind the first one, she quickly changed topics and cut everyone off before Bumper could do something insane and disturbing, like take off his pants, which he was probably about to do.
"Actually, you know what, I thought I saw Stacie around here somewhere!" Beca gasped suddenly. "We should go see her now before I forget!" Then before either Bumper or Amy could protest, Beca had taken Theo's hand and bolted.
"See you at the Parade, Shortie!" Amy bellowed as Beca took off. "I'll be one in rainbow fishnets and thigh-highs! Me and my man are gonna bring down the house! There will be pole-dancing! You'll see!"
"Sure we will," Beca muttered under her breath, then she picked up her speed, still dragging a confused and amused Theo with her. He really did want to know about Bumper's butt tattoo, but given Beca's response to it, it was something he probably shouldn't ask about.
"So where are we going?" Theo asked after a while, once Beca finally slowed to a walk again.
"Away from Amy and Bumper," Beca replied with a heavy sigh of relief.
"Is Stacie actually here?" Theo asked next.
"I have no-" Beca began to answer, but who should appear other than Stacie herself?! With her was Aubrey and a two-year old girl. Bella.
The next reunion was far sweeter and gentler than the one with Amy and Bumper. Beca may have never been into kids or babies, but there was just something so beautiful, sweet, pure and innocent about Bella that made Beca almost cry. There was just something so precious and sacred in the way that Bella's wide eyes met hers and, just for a moment, Beca could only imagine what bliss it must be to carry around a little human like that and realize that it was entirely your own to raise and love.
From the absolutely adoring look on Stacie's face, however, Beca had enough of a guess to figure out just how beautiful and wonderful motherhood could be. Although Stacie was still very sexually active and still promoted sexual liberation and overall sex positivity, she had yet to conceive another child, and her sex life did nothing to detract from the pure and indescribable adoration she felt for her little daughter.
"She's so precious," Theo whispered as two wide eyes and a grinning face looked up at him. A whole new life with a whole new world to explore was sitting there before him, looking up at him like he had been the one to hang the sun and moon in the sky.
"Isn't she?" Beca breathed reverently as she cradled the baby in her arms, cooing softly on pure instinct alone. Stacie was watching them, resting in Aubrey's arms with a beatific smile on her face. She was still the same Stacie they knew and loved, but she had calmed down from her hard partying days and a new side of her was starting to emerge, and all thanks to Bella.
Stacie and Aubrey had only just started dating a little while ago, their mutual interest in children bringing them together again, but their love was very real and very strong. Beca could already tell, too, that Aubrey loved Bella like her own, and was determined to be more present in her life than her own father, Michael, had ever been in hers.
It was clear that even though Michael was finally starting to be more attentive, all the preceding years of neglect had done irreversible damage. It made Aubrey even more determined to be there for kids whose parents weren't. That was even what had sparked her career interest, and Beca thought it was a truly beautiful thing to do. (Although, she couldn't also help but wonder how many babies she'd made cry. Whether she knew it or not, Aubrey could be a bit… intense and controlling). But at least for that moment, all that mattered was baby Bella.
ooo
Later that night, after Theo and Beca had parted ways, Beca found herself sitting in a very, very, VERY crowded Bella house. Apparently, when the note had said that every Bella was free to come, EVER Bella did indeed come. It was much like the night of the World Championship, with all of the Bellas Beca knew laughing and chatting and singing with older Bellas. The only difference was the bunch of noobs, who were even younger than Emily's generation. But she sat in the midst of them, eagerly chatting with some of the girls she'd left behind after graduation.
Her mother and Benji were also there. Unlike everyone else, Emily had managed to keep her freshman sweetheart. He was still just as goofy and wonderful as ever, even though, shockingly enough, he had since become a theater teacher at a nearby high school. He'd developed a bit of a physique in that time, and had a small mustache, but, other than that, he was still the same old adorkable nerd they all knew and loved. And he and Emily were just as sickly, sappy sweet as ever!
In the back of her mind, with a small pang of sadness, Beca realized that the same could not be said for her and Jesse. Even though they'd been apart for years now, being back at Barden made Beca remember and miss him, just a little…
"Oh my GOD, Legacy!" Fat Amy sighed loudly, tearing Beca from her thoughts.
"Yes, yes, I know, I know," Emily interrupted with a laugh. "I'm the dumbest, most stupid person to ever live and breathe."
"At least you're smart enough to know that!" Amy shook her head despairingly. Emily only laughed, and when a few of her friends cast protective glares at Amy, she subtly gestured for them to back down. It was ok. She didn't mind Amy calling her stupid. Benji, however, looked quite offended and it took a gentle kiss from Emily to change his frown into the world's cutest smile. Beca thought she might puke.
"You two are really cute," Esther remarked, curling into the arms of her own two lovers. Even though Y.S. wasn't technically an alum, he was given free passage because he was Esther's boyfriend. Donald had both alum and 'Esther's boyfriend' powers. Flo cast Esther another strange look, but got over it quickly. She had since stopped making the sign of the cross every time Esther spoke, but it was clear that the whole 'Lilly was just Esther overtaken by Satan' was still bothering her a bit. Beca didn't even question things like that now anymore.
"HEY, HEY, HEY!" Two cheerful voices bellowed from the Bella door and Beca, Cynthia, Esther, Amy, Aubrey, Stacie, Emily, Flo, Denise, Jessica and Ashley all shrieked in delight. It was none other than Chloe Beale, Chicago Walp at her side. He grinned up at them. It was funny to see him wearing a rainbow toga, but that was partly because everyone else in the room was so used to seeing him in uniform.
He'd managed to get time off, however, and was now spending some of his vacation here, at Barden. It was part of the reason why Chloe was the last Bella to arrive. She and Chicago had flown in from out-of-country. His best friend, Zeke, had come too, but since he wasn't an alum, or a lover of an alum, he was forced to stay at the hotel while Chicago got to stay with Chloe.
"Chloe!" Aubrey and Beca were the first to reach the ginger, swiftly followed by Amy, and then everyone else.
"Hey you guys!" Chloe cried as she hugged each and every Bella individually, already tearing up at the sweet reunion. She'd taken their departure the hardest, so it made sense that she was the most thrilled to be back. And she was quickly smothered in love, a very beloved Bella indeed!
Chicago only watched the scene with a smile on his face. Most people would never compare the army to a group of college singers, but he could see the parallels between his brotherhood and Chloe's sisterhood and he thought it was quite beautiful. Love transcended all things, and was the same no matter where one went. Military or music, family was family.
And as Chloe continued to greet all of her old friends anew, Chicago felt a few tears sting his eyes, too. Chloe had been a wonderful girlfriend, following him wherever he went. And it was made all the more wonderful because she usually struggled to adapt to change. She'd worked so long and hard to overcome her anxieties and it really showed!
The rest of that first night was spent singing and reminiscing. Old Bellas were reunited and new and old memories were shared. There was a lot of laughing and crying both. And at one point, a very old rivalry was put to rest as well.
"Chloe! Aubrey!" someone cried out. It was Alice, leader of the Bellas before Aubrey. The two girls to whom she was speaking with turned towards her as she called their names. "I just wanted to apologize, you know, for being as rude as I was back then. I promise you I have mellowed out, but I still just wanted to apologize for all of that!"
"You still remember?" Aubrey snorted, forgiving Alice easily. Sure, Alice's words had hurt, but that had been literally like a decade ago.
"I do!" Chloe pouted. "She'd said that my breath smelled like eggs!" The ginger crossed her arms, but she could be caught subtly testing her breath by breathing into her shoulder. Alice didn't miss the movement and grinned sheepishly.
"I was younger then," she said. It wasn't meant to be an excuse, but an explanation and a promise. She'd grown up in the past 10 years, just like all of them had. Aubrey shrugged again, still considering it water under the bridge, but Chloe continued to frown, just a little.
At the very end of the night, though, right before everyone went to bed, Aubrey stood up on one of the tables on the house.
"HANDS IN, ACA-PITCHES!" she cried, and with one accord, every girl and woman there put their hands in.
"ONE, TWO, THREE!" And the entire house exploded into a perfect harmony. Once a Bella, always a Bella. But then, of course, such a ruckus had disturbed Stacie's baby and the house spent the next 30 minutes trying to calm her down again.
"Ooops," Aubrey grinned sheepishly. Stacie only rolled her eyes as she began to sing a lullaby from her own childhood. One by one, some of the other Bellas joined in, and suddenly, the baby Bella was being serenaded back into the dreamworld by what she thought was a choir of angels, beautiful and talented and loving. And her mama was at the lead! She was out cold in mere seconds after that.
ooo
For the next week, just as planned, the Pride Fest carried on day in and out. There was music, games, festivities, food, and everything anyone could ever want. And of course, it was all queer themed. Best of all, though, it had all been hosted by the Bellas! Even though it was a college-wide event that had received funding from all over, the Bellas were the leading force behind it all. Because of that, the Fest was even given the nickname "Barden Bellas' Big 'Be Brave, Be Bold' Bash", and there was a singing competition every single night. Whether it was a riff-off or a talent show or a karaoke competition, the songs and games were endless. And even the other music programs like band and orchestra managed to join it, even though singing was the main event.
Teams and sing-offs were taken hardcore, and some new teams were generated from the games. These teams were specifically set to be LGBT-based, but there were rumors that the teams might become more permanent than first believed. For example, one of the new teams was called the Trans-sectionals and was a group made exclusively up of transgender students. Another was the Bi-sectionals, made up of anyone able to carry more than one voice part. Another was called For-Gay (Forte and Gay) that was just for any queer student at all.
For Beca, though, what made this kind of nightly riff-off showdown in honor of the Bellas the most, well, throwback-ish, was the fact that Gail and John had, somehow, found a way to get back inside Barden and formally announce every single event.
"Seriously. How and why? I mean, don't these guys have anything better to do?" Beca demanded as she and her team (tonight's riff-off was being played by graduation year, so Beca had Amy, Cynthia, Esther, Jessica, Ashley, Flo and Stacie, but not Chloe, Aubrey, Denise, Alice or Emily) got ready to sing, standing in the very pool where Beca had sung her first ever riff-off.
Over their heads, Gail and John were sitting on the diving board, holding a camera and boom-mic while announcing the various teams.
"If you think that's crazy, look up there, where Theo is," Amy whispered, pointing to one of the seats around the pool.
"Impossible!" Beca exclaimed, but no, sure enough, standing beside Theo in his old bathrobe, was Sir Willups Brightlysmore, the man who'd hosted the riff-off in his basement, inviting the Bellas, Treblemakers, Tone Hangers, DSM and several others.
"How is he even here?! Is that even legal?" she continued to shake her head as she looked up at him.
"Technically, yes, but it is strange," Amy replied. Before either of them could say anything else, however, the riff-off began!
ooo
At the second-to-last day of the Pride Fest, however, there was one last
informal
competition between anyone who wanted to join in. It was something that started as soon as the sun began to set and would last until sunrise. It was a very long and intense competition with all-hands-on-deck for the behind-the-scenes work. In fact, Beca even ran into some people that she hadn't seen since her freshman year. The first was Luke, the old radio station manager, and the second was Kimmy-Jin, Beca's very first roommate.
"Hey! Becky!" Luke grinned, still recognizing Beca even after all this time. His blond hair was striped with a rainbow.
"Luke," she smiled politely back at him. "And Kimmy-Jin?"
"Hello, Beca," the woman replied with a small smile, very different from the relationship they used to have. Beca smiled at her in return and the two shook hands. If one hadn't known the truth, they would've assumed that Beca and Kimmy-Jin had been friends from the start! Kimmy-Jin wore the asexual flag as a cape and was busy helping Lukas and another man set up backup sound equipment in case the originals went haywire. It had been an intense week of singing and those mics probably needed fixing, but there was a competition coming, so there was no time for maintenance.
"We just have to hope for the best at this point!" Luke grinned as he set up a third spare speaker.
"Don't worry, I am sure Tom has everything all planned out," Kimmy-Jin replied. "He's probably over on sound check. We can ask him."
"Who's Tom?" asked Beca, not recalling the name.
"My husband," Luke replied with a smile. "We married just a year or so after you would've graduated. He's at this Pride Fest, but I think he's helping organize all of the teams. I was the one who got saddled with the equipment," he laughed.
"Well, congrats!" Beca smiled at the man and he smiled back before handing Beca a picture. Her jaw dropped. She actually did recognize the guy! It was Chloe's old boyfriend! What were the odds? Beca laughed to herself before returning the picture to Luke. He took it with one last smile before he began leading Kimmy-Jin away to another part of the stage.
Since that night's competition was supposed to be pretty informal, anyone who wanted to sing could join in. This meant that teams were very lax. For example, Chloe managed to get Chicago to sing a 'Thinking Out Loud' duet and several ex Bellas, such as Mary Elise and Kori, finally had the chance to perform, and they were performing alongside several Treblemakers, no less. One was Unicycle. Yes, how many years later and he was still riding around on that blasted unicycle! Beca thought she caught Aubrey laughing and trying to get Stacie to see how, even though they had changed, good old Unicycle still had not. It made Beca laugh to see because, if rumors were true, Aubrey once had a crush on Unicycle long ago, though it was evident that her heart belonged to Stacie and Bella now.
Not for the first time did Beca feel a pang of envy enter her heart and it was only worsened when Jesse and Benji took the stage. That was right, Jesse. He'd arrived on the second day of the Pride Fest and met Beca while Beca was eating with Chloe and Aubrey.
"Hey, Beca," Jesse had greeted Beca awkwardly.
"Jesse!" Beca sat up but was unable to meet Jesse's eyes.
"Long time, no see," he said.
"No kidding," Beca replied. "How have you been?"
"I've been ok. And you?" Jesse responded.
"Wonderful," Beca's wasn't sure if her reply was supposed to have been sincere or sarcastic, but Jesse didn't bother asking.
"That's good to know," Jesse replied instead. The two managed to exchange a few more basic pleasantries before Jesse sauntered off, leaving an embarrassed Beca and a consoling Chloe and Aubrey in his wake.
Beca learned that Jesse was single again, but he seemed incredibly happy. All through the Pride Week, Jesse could be spotted messing around with his old friends and spray-painting rainbows on any and everything. Perhaps his reunion with Beca had been awkward, but his reunion with Benji and all the other Treblemakers had gone amazingly. In fact, just the previous night, Jesse and his Treblemakers managed to run through an entire old set and that was impressive, given that they hadn't performed together in ages. Beca didn't know if Jesse was looking for love right now or what, but frankly, she didn't care. He seemed happy enough, and that was as much thought as Beca was going to give him.
"Let me at least offer you a peace treaty," he'd insisted later that night, once Beca's initial shock of seeing him had faded somewhat.
"The depends on what the treaty is," Beca replied with a dry smile.
"Just a treat and a movie," Jesse replied, then he gave Beca a rainbow cupcake and a copy of 'The Breakfast Club'.
"Are you trying to hit on me?" Beca asked, laughing despite herself as the nostalgia hit her.
"Nonsense!" Jesse laughed, and both he and Beca knew that Jesse was being serious. Although he had moved on, he still did miss Beca from time to time, and he felt bad that their relationship hadn't worked out after all. Regardless of how he viewed Beca, she had still been a good friend of his for four years. That was no small feat, and even though they never saw each other anymore, every memory they had was real, and this week would be their last chance to go over those memories before moving on again.
After Jesse's first duet with Benji, however, Denise, Emily, Emily's mother and several other old Treblemakers joined in and the group did a medley of Broadway-Disney songs. Beca watched the barest of smiles. Maybe she and Jesse weren't seeing eye to eye, but he was still as talented as ever. She would have to speak to him later if she could, if only to congratulate him. He deserved that at least.
Then several other teams came and went, like the High Notes and Sock-apellas. They were… decent. Pimp-Lo was there too, though, singing another god-awful song, this time called, "Take it From the Back". But it was about as good as "Bend Over" in Beca's eyes, if that meant anything. She would've preferred listening to the High Notes and Sock-apellas if it meant no more Pimp-Lo.
Next, Bumper sang some stupid solo that was booed out about halfway in. Several teams from the World Championship managed to come over and sing and that made up for the Bumper and Pimp-Lo disasters. Esther, her two boyfriends and DJ Dragon Nutz all performed a rap. Theo sung a simple ballad of his own and he had a pretty decent voice. Beca found herself screaming for his song as loudly as Emily's mother had screamed for Emily. Saddle Up and Evermoist even managed to make it in next after Theo.
"Who the heck names their band 'Evermoist'? I mean really!" a new voice off to the side demanded.
"Sammy?" Beca cried out on instinct. It might've been years since she'd last heard him, but she'd recognize that snobby and demanding voice anywhere. Sure enough, there he was. Beca's ex-boss from Residual Heat.
"The very same, Reggie," Sammy replied casually, arms crossed as he continued to observe what was unfolding before him. Although this Pride Fest was not meant to launch any careers or deals, scouts like Sammy were still coming out to observe the shows.
"Is Dax with you?" Beca found herself asking. Even though it was getting dark, Beca could see Sammy physically cringe at the mention of that 'obnoxious hipster boy who doesn't know when to keep his stupid trap shut'.
"Not with me now," Sammy replied. "He's too busy kissing some other guy. He had a beard and an accent."
"What now?" Beca's ears perked with interest.
"The guy that performed that little power ballad. What was his name? Leo? Tommy?" Sammy responded, irritated.
"Theo?" Beca asked, covering her mouth to suppress a laugh.
"Yeah, that's it," Sammy was totally dismissive, but Beca began to howl with laughter at the mental image of Theo kissing Dax. She quickly dismissed herself from Sammy's presence, hoping to find Dax and Theo. It didn't take long. They were busy making out not too far behind stage.
Beca wasn't one to peep, but there was something so extraordinarily funny to her about watching the two awkward musicians that had helped her career make out that she couldn't resist a look. Sure enough, Theo had his arms around Dax and Dax was melting into the kiss. Beca ran off again before her laughter gave her away. She was so happy for Theo, and Dax, but she would never let either of them live it down.
Beca returned to her original place as soon as she was finished watching Dax and Theo.
"Is that idiot still there?" Sammy asked. In the time Beca was gone, the woman that had tried to recruit Pimp-Lo was back. Beca made sure to avoid eye contact with her, still mad over the fact that she had wanted Pimp-Lo's original piece over her own edited, and far better, version.
"Afraid so," Beca began to snigger again despite herself. Sammy rolled his eyes, but before he could say more, Evermoist took a bow and he clapped. "They're good, I suppose," Beca heard Sammy mutter. He made several notes on his phone and whispered to Pimp-Lo's recruiter before the next group hopped up on stage to do their song. Once again, Beca's breath was blown away. It was DSM.
Though it seemed like an impossibility, what with DSM being German, Beca would recognize the tall and fearsome figures anywhere. For a moment, Beca's heart skipped a beat as she thought about DSM's gorgeous and powerful leader, known simply as the Kommissar. As much as it made Beca cringe and blush, she couldn't deny that she still had a minor attraction to the woman. It wasn't like the attraction was very strong, given that Beca hadn't seen the woman in years, but whenever someone mentioned anything about Germany, DSM, foreign acapella teams/competitions, or the World Championship, Beca's heart would skip a beat. It was doing that now, quite rapidly in fact, as the tiny American tried to wrap her head around the idea of Kommissar being here, back in the same country she was in. Impossible. But no, this was DSM, sure as it was Pride Month…
"And, hailing all the way from out of the country it is the German acapella team, Das Sound Machine!" John bellowed, still announcing and doubly confirming Beca's worst (best?) fears.
"And my, oh my, don't they look stunning tonight!" Gail shouted.
"Don't they, Gail?" John agreed. "But looking at it now, maybe they should've exchanged the leather for lace. The look isn't all that hot!" he was referring to the fact that DSM, despite wearing rainbow-colored outfits, was still in its trademark leather. The large group ignored these remarks, however, and stood still and silent. For a moment, there was a hush in the crowd, then one particularly large man, Kommissar's deputy, Pieter, barked a command in German and the group began singing.
For the first verse, Kommissar was nowhere to be seen and, despite herself, Beca began to worry. Where was she? Had something happened? Did Kommissar quit DSM? But that couldn't be! Was she fired? Was that even possible? What if she'd died? No, that was probably an overreaction. But seriously, where was she? Why wasn't she on stage with the others? Beca found these questions circling her mind faster and faster despite the fact that she had hardly thought of the tall, mighty German at all. It was with anger and awe that Beca acknowledged how deep a hold Kommissar had on her brain (and heart).
The chorus of the song started and then, suddenly, from the back of the stage, Kommissar herself came bursting in. Once again, seeing her face after all those years made Beca's heart burst open, and the dramatic entrance only strengthened the feeling. Beca found herself cheering for the German woman louder than she'd cheered for anyone else the whole night and she was in total awe as Kommissar completely dominated the stage. Beca almost felt embarrassed now for ever having worried at all about Kommissar. Then she felt embarrassed for feeling so moved by this woman after five long years. It wasn't like Beca had spent ALL of those years pining over Kommissar, yet here she was, seeing Kommissar again for the first time in five years and feeling more love struck than an aroused Treblemaker!
But it was hardly Beca's fault. Kommissar was a literal goddess after all. And even while wearing rainbow leather, she looked absolutely lethal. Of course, it made sense as her and DSM's song was battle-based, covering the louder and braver, more violent side of LGBT history, but still. To see Kommissar with that trademark bun, hair streaked with pink in the bun and rainbow everywhere else and to see Kommissar with different shades of pink, purple and white painted under her eyes like war-paint was just so alluring and, well, sexy. Beca wasn't going to lie, she was getting slightly turned on by all of this despite this being a very sudden and random occurrence.
Once DSM was finished, their finale consisting of them drawing fake swords from sheaths and standing in line to create a rainbow, Beca was beside herself. She was hooting and hollering loud enough for five people. Even Sammy looked at her in surprise. Beca had always been so quiet at Residual Heat, now she was acting like a madwoman. Beca completely missed Sammy and the other woman staring, however, her eyes too fixated upon the proud German woman who stood stock still on the stage, purple sword raised high in the spotlight as her eyes flashed almost aggressively. Beca just
had
to speak with her. She didn't know when or how, but if Kommissar was going to come all the way out here to perform, Beca had to speak to her. It was one of those urges that was sudden and random, but impossible to deny…
ooo
"Tiny Maus! It has been far too long!" Beca may have been looking for Kommissar, but Kommissar still found her first.
"Huh? What?" Beca whipped around to see the tall woman, and her ever-present companion, Pieter, walking over.
"Was I not the one you were looking for?" Kommissar gave Beca a smug smile. How had she already known?!
"Maybe you weren't," Beca tried to challenge the other singer. "Because you're so unbelievable gorgeous and tall that it wouldn't be hard to find you anyway!" Beca added before she could control herself. Her face contorted into mortification as she realized that her attraction to Kommissar wasn't the only thing that managed to linger for all those years…
"Then I suppose I can respect that, but perhaps I could still help you look to find who you had originally come here for?" Kommissar replied, tilting her head. Her sharp blue eyes took on an amused quality that made Beca want to scream in anger and to just let Kommissar take her right then and there. Wait. What? Ugh… One would've thought her crush would've faded by now!
"Just tell us who the person is, and we will help you find them," Pieter continued to urge Beca playfully. He missed picking on the troll.
"Well, I was looking for Chloe," Beca bluffed defensively. "She's the ginger one. She's kind of loud and easy to spot, but she moves around quickly, but I still think you're prettier!" Once again, Beca wanted to kick herself for accidently complimenting the German woman.
"Ah yes, the one that dragged you away from me during that riff-off before I had finished toying with you," Kommissar snickered.
"Toying with me?!" Beca demanded more affronted than amazed that Kommissar could still remember such a small detail like that. "I was totally about to hand you your gorgeous ass!" the brunette instantly cringed as the last two words left her mouth.
"Well, since we were unable to do that back then, you are more than welcome to do that to me tonight," Kommissar offered and Beca somehow managed to choke on nothing but the air itself. Kommissar and Pieter snickered as Beca coughed and sputtered in response to the offer.
"Just help me find Chloe," she groaned angrily, hoping that she would be able to bluff her way out of this one, though the longer it sat in her mind, the more pleasant Kommissar's offer became.
For the new few minutes, Beca and her two German companions fought their way through a dark sea of rainbows. Beca wasn't sure what exactly she had planned, but she figured that she could either give up and dismiss herself, insisting that she had to go back to the Bella house and DSM wouldn't be allowed in, or she could just stick it out until she did somehow find Chloe and then hopefully Chloe would be able to help her out.
Unfortunately, it took longer than expected to find Chloe, and Beca actually ended up running into Evermoist and Saddle Up first.
"Hey, Bella," Calamity greeted Beca with a disdainful smirk, but there was no real malice in her eyes tonight.
"Hello, Evermoist," Beca replied. The three girls with Calamity chuckled at Beca's response.
"It's Calamity, don't you remember?" she asked.
"Afraid not," Beca grinned. "It's been a long time and opening up for DJ Khaled kind of makes it easy to forget everything else."
"Oooh, feisty!" one of Calamity's friends cackled and even Calamity was willing to laugh. As initially disdainful as she'd been of the Bellas and as initially bitter as she'd been about their leader getting to open for DJK, the bitterness was long-since over.
"Y'all having a good Pride?" one of the Saddle Up singers asked. Saddle Up and the Tonehangers had actually done a fantastic country-cover medley duo, alternating between voice and instrument as they sang covers of every genre and manage to give them all a country spin.
"Yes we are," Beca replied. "I'm actually trying to find one of my friends now," she added, casting a nervous look over at Kommissar who was looking at Calamity with interest. Beca felt a flash of envy and hoped to high Heaven that Kommissar wasn't about to go chasing after that short-haired punk-rocker and the rest of her rainbowed up band.
"The y'all have a goodnight too, and stay safe!" another Saddle Up singer said.
"You and Evermoist keep raising them rainbows," Beca replied, looking at both groups. Calamity saluted the smaller singer with a genuine smile before the groups parted ways. Beca exhaled in relief.
"Old friends?" Kommissar questioned as soon as the other groups were gone.
"No," Beca replied. "Just someone on the USO tour."
"Ah," Kommissar continued to stare after Calamity.
"Come on, let's go," Beca muttered, then she intentionally led Kommissar and Pieter away in the opposite direction.
Ultimately, Beca ran into Chloe at a string of stands acting as a bar. To her amazement, Chloe was still completely upright. Usually when there was alcohol involved, Chloe was one of the first people to get wasted. Tonight, however, she still looked fairly sober and was talking intently with Chicago and Zeke. Zeke wore an asexual flag and Chicago was in his rainbow toga again. Chloe had dolled herself up, still in a pride dress, but it was far fancier than anything else she'd worn that week. In addition, the bisexual flag was painted on her cheek, but she'd added a gold line through the blue stripe of the flag.
"Chloe!" Beca cried out before turning back to the Germans. "So, uhhh, thanks for your help, but you can you go now," she muttered quickly. A part of her hoped that the DSM captains would take the hint and leave, but part of her hoped that they, particularly Kommissar, would stay. Beca ended up getting her subconscious wish the moment Kommissar shook her head.
"Perhaps you have found your friends, but I would very much like to meet them properly, as equals instead of enemies," she said.
"You would?!" Beca squeaked in excitement, but when she realized how revealing that overly-happy line had sounded, she tried to make a quick recover. She cleared her throat. "I mean, uhhh, you would?" she asked, much quieter.
"If you would be so kind as to introduce us," Kommissar waved a hand over to Chloe and the two soldiers.
"Beca!" before Beca had a chance to answer properly, Chloe had spotted Beca and called her out. Beca cringed as she was pretty much forced to now introduce the ginger to two old rivals.
"Hey, Chloe," Beca plastered on a false grin as she walked over to the ginger and her two companions. Kommissar and Pieter were close behind.
"Who are these guys?" Chloe asked Beca, looking at the Germans with a friendly, curious smile. But the moment she was able to see them better, when they came closer to the lights of the stand, all that friendliness vanished.
"Oh! It's them?! Impossible. I can't believe they're back!" the ginger crossed her arms and was already stepping protectively in front of Beca, as though daring either of them to do something to her. Kommissar bit her lip in amusement. As if that ginger would be any match for her! But it was still sweet to watch how possessive she got over the brunette. Kommissar did love a bit of competition, even if it was over the affections of another human being. But she could sense that Beca was still far more attracted to her than to the ginger.
"Hey, listen, ease up Chloe, they just came to say hello," Beca whispered.
"Did they really?" Chloe asked, still standing in front of Beca with her arms crossed like some kind of bodyguard. It was made especially funny because Chloe was all 'tarted out' in a fancy dress, and she had fake rainbows tattooed all across her body, and even had some highlights in her hair.
"Do not worry, ginger one, I have come to speak as equals tonight," Kommissar promised. "There is no reason to be jealous of me."
"Jealous? I'm not jealous," Chloe huffed, but in all honesty, this was true. Although her crush on Beca had once been very real and powerful and although her envy of all the attention Beca gave Kommissar had once been just as real, the past few years had washed all of that away.
By the time the Bellas had reunited for the USO tour, Chloe's crush had finally faded entirely, allowing her to start a relationship with the wonderful, beautiful Chicago. Although there would be a small part of Chloe that regretted never getting with Beca, a larger part of her understood that Beca just hadn't been interested and it wouldn't have been fair to push the brunette into a relationship. 'No' meant 'no', Chloe understood that.
And the way she saw it, if her love for Beca was as pure and genuine as she claimed, then she would've been ok with a rejection. It was only the self-entitled jerks who wouldn't take no for an answer. Chloe didn't want to be like that. Like Amy had said, she wanted to be the girl, the family member, who lifted other people up instead of trying to hold them back to fulfill her own selfish wishes. So when she told Kommissar she wasn't jealous, she meant it, but she still wasn't going to let these German dumpkoffs hurt her friend.
"Perhaps you are not," Kommissar allowed, having sensed a genuine change in the way the ginger viewed her Tiny Maus. It was admirable, but she was slightly disappointed that there wouldn't be more of a fight to come. "But you are still getting in the way of allowing me to talk to my guide, no?" she continued.
"You said you wanted to meet me," Chloe argued. "So here I am. And these fine gentlemen are Chicago and Zeke!" she said, gesturing for each of them to stand with her. It was a subtle intimidation tactic. "They're military men," she added smugly.
"Military?" Kommissar suddenly sounded genuinely interested. "When, where and for how long?"
"Since the start of college, since I had them help me fund my education, and I've been all over the place, though I've mostly been stationed around the Americas," Chicago answered. "Zeke, here, has gone through pretty much the same thing."
"What's with the sudden interest?" Chloe demanded of the Germans. "Think you can beat us in a fight, huh? Remember WWII!" Chicago and Zeke proceeded to muffle laughter behind their hands while Beca tried to pull Chloe back in a reversal of what had happened in that riff off.
"Let's NOT get into a fight right now, ok? I want to be able to finish up the Pride Week without anything catching on fire, getting destroyed or anything else!" Beca muttered pleadingly as Chloe continued to scowl at the Germans.
"I am interested, ginger, because Pieter and I used to serve in the army too," Kommissar responded smugly.
"You did?" Chicago sounded fascinated.
"Yeah, I was stationed mostly Germany, sometimes in other European countries, but all to help pay for college like you two," Kommissar said.
"What brings you here to this festival, then?" Chicago asked. Kommissar gave him a mysterious smile before answering truthfully.
"I heard that Barden was going to be hosting a massive Pride Fest and I know that Barden is where an old friend of mine had graduated, so of course I knew she'd be here and of course I'd have to come back," the blond threw a look at Beca who was now blushing violent red. Thank goodness it was dark right now! Had Kommissar really come all the way back here for her? That was… kind of stalker-y, wasn't it?
"We were on tour at the time and everything just matched up perfectly," the blond continued. Ok, so maybe she hadn't flown all the way in from Germany, but she'd still come to see Beca. That was something. Chloe began to size Beca up appreciatively.
"You never said you kept in touch!" she declared, some of her antagonism towards the Germans fading away now that they were proving that they really had not come looking for a fight tonight.
"We didn't," Beca muttered. "But she is like some kind of gorgeous huntress because she found me again!" Beca cringed again at what she'd said.
"So she came all this way here for you?" Chloe gushed. "Romantic!"
"Yes, I would hope so," Kommissar agreed. "Since that is the end goal, no?"
"After all this time?" Beca couldn't help but laugh. Maybe her pining hadn't been as one-sided and stupid as she thought.
"Of course," Kommissar replied and Beca felt herself melt a little.
"Well then you two ought to spend the rest of the night together!" Chloe demanded, eagerly taking up the position of wingman because she sensed Beca's old attractions flaring up. Although, initially, she had been more than ready to throw down and fight the Germans off, her romantic side was starting to take control again and now she wanted nothing more than to help Beca get some tonight.
"The lake around the Bella house has some canoes if you think a sail in the moonlight would be good!" she continued brightly.
"Chloe! Shut up!" Beca whispered, but to no avail.
"Sounds wonderful," Kommissar replied. "Which way is the lake?" Chloe pointed obediently over her shoulder. "Come then, Maus, let us away!"
"Wait a sec!" Chloe interrupted with a cackle before Kommissar could drag the protesting Beca away. Kommissar heard the mischievous note in Chloe's voice and was more than happy to listen. Chloe then whipped around markers, gold blue, purple and pink.
"Hold still!" she demanded of Beca. Beca began to plead but Kommissar and Pieter both held her into place as Chloe approached her with the markers. Chicago and Zeke laughed while Beca swiveled her eyes over to them, she was unable to move her head.
"Help me!" she pleaded with the soldiers.
"Sorry," Chicago replied and he raised a glass sadly for the brunette as Chloe began to draw. He knew better than to get in Chloe's way when there was something out there that Chloe really wanted. Beca pretended to howl in despair.
"Oh, come now Maus, it is not all that bad!" Kommissar cried. Beca was painfully aware of the fact that Kommissar had chosen to wrap one arm right above Beca's panty line and the other right under Beca's boobs while Pieter was only holding her shoulders.
"It is if you are a tiny American with no spine!" Pieter grinned. Beca hissed up at him but he only laughed in response as Chloe continued to work, holding Beca's face in place as she drew and marked.
"It's easy for you to say!" Beca muttered at Kommissar. "Your gorgeous face isn't the one being graffitied on."
"You think my face is gorgeous?" Kommissar asked loudly and Beca groaned in embarrassment.
"I mean the paint on it was gorgeous," she tried to protest. "It really brings out your cheekbones and makes you look like a goddess!" everyone in attendance, the soldiers, Pieter and Chloe, began to laugh while Beca only groaned again.
Once Chloe was done, however, she stepped away and Pieter and Kommissar both released Beca.
"What did you do to me!?" the brunette demanded, nearly stumbling as she was released. Chloe only smirked and took a picture. The flash from Chloe's phone temporarily stunned Beca, but once the bright lights stopped flickering behind Beca's eyelids, she was able to see the picture Chloe had taken. Just like Chloe, Beca now had a bisexual flag painted on her cheek. This time, though, the gold line went through the pink portion.
"Ah, you look quite handsome!" Pieter snickered, but Kommissar said nothing, choosing instead to only smile proudly at Chloe's work. She approved, both of what Chloe had done and of Chloe herself. She and this ginger would make good friends, the German was sure of it.
Beca subtly mouthed out how much she hated the ginger, but said ginger only shrugged cheerfully as she took her phone back. She could see the way Beca looked at Kommissar even after all this time, and she had the feeling that Beca had been blabbering and accidently complimenting the German since the moment they first reunited. It reminded Chloe of how it had been the first time she ever spoke face to face with Chicago (in fact, Chloe had even remembered Kommissar during that first interaction with Chicago and it was an unmissed irony). Now here she was, still with him and just as happy as she'd ever been before. Maybe the same would happen for Beca and Kommissar.
So while Chloe, Pieter and her soldier friends remained at the little bar, Beca and Kommissar went out to the lake. Already, Benji and Emily were there, and as were Amy and Bumper, but somehow, Beca had the feeling that Amy and Bumper weren't being quite as PG as Benji and Emily. Once again, the brunette thanked the night for its darkness before joining Kommissar out on the lake.
"So you can canoe, huh? You can do anything," Beca muttered, though she had learned how to canoe back at the Lodge of Fallen Leaves and the skill had served her when she and Amy were chasing after Amy's criminal father, Fergus, who was still behind bars.
"It is just another small skill I have picked up over my years," Kommissar agreed as they moved closer to the center of the lake.
"Was it before or after the World Championship?" Beca asked. Kommissar understood the implied question and, once they reached a good spot, she ceased rowing and started talking.
Apparently, after the World's, even though Beca and friends had gone their separate way, most of DSM continued to work as a full-time acapella group. Sure, members came and went, but everything else stayed mostly the same. Along the way, Pieter ended up getting married to the blond beatboxer, and even though Kommissar had been proud and pleased by their marriage, she did start to feel a little bit like a third wheel.
Not too long after that, Ari, the girl Chloe had sung against in the riff-off ended up getting married to some musical producer and she left DSM. And Kommissar's own Danish cousin, Birgitte, had since gotten married to some dude who worked in theater. Although Birgitte wasn't technically a DSM singer, she had helped Kommissar cope with the 'loss' of Pieter and Ari, but now she was married too. An unexpected loneliness crept into Kommissar's heart and no matter how many lovers she had, the loneliness never died entirely.
Then at last, while touring in America's west coast, she came across the Barden ad for a massive, weeklong Pride Fest on social media. It had taken the German a moment, but when she realized that she knew the name 'Barden' she knew at once that she had to attend the festival. It was a bit of a tight squeeze into the schedule, but Kommissar made it happen and she and DSM had been able to perform, as Beca saw.
Now here they sat, on the Barden lake in a canoe under the moonlight. There were still pink dyes in Kommissar's hair and the paint under her eyes hadn't rubbed off yet. It was still so funny to see her dressed like some kind of soldier, despite being covered in pinks and rainbows, but the life of a queer person sometimes was like a battlefield, so maybe the attire wasn't all that silly and seemingly dissonant.
"And you? Has life turned out the way you expected it to?" Kommissar asked, genuinely curious. Beca gave a dry laugh before answer.
"Honestly, no," she said. "For better and worse, life has been vastly different…" then it was her turn to tell the story.
Of course, she mentioned graduation and she mentioned working with RH before finally quitting. She mentioned the USO tours and how she'd landed a job with DJ Khaled. He had been unable to come to this Pride Fest, but he did email the link to several videos he'd recorded of himself, wishing everyone else a happy Pride Month. The videos were aired at the start of the night's competition and they actually had been quite sweet, him promising that he was with them in spirit and singing several songs about coming out and being brave. It was slightly ruined by the large hive of bees buzzing right beside the camera, but hey, it was the thought that counted. Besides, it was DJ Khaled, the crowd loved him. (On a side note, Snoop Dogg had sent in a video too, courtesy of Sammy, who was still working with Snoop).
"I never congratulated you for that," Kommissar said. "I remember seeing you with one of his workers."
"Theo?" Beca asked with a laugh. She hadn't seen Theo since before the sun set. That meant Kommissar must've been watching her longer than expected. "Just how long have you been stalking me, anyway?" she pressed.
"Only for today," Kommissar shrugged, not even bothering to deny that she had indeed been stalking the brunette. Beca laughed.
"You seemed very friendly with Theo," Kommissar continued, raising her eyebrows in a silent question.
"Oh, no, no, no," Beca grinned and shook her head. "I think he might've wanted to, but I never did. Last time I saw him, he was making out with one of my old boss' employees," Beca shook her head, wondering briefly if Sammy had managed to pry Dax away from Theo or not.
"And that old Treblemaker?" Kommissar asked again. A flash of pain crossed Beca's face and that was all Kommissar needed. "Forgive me for mentioning it," she said.
"Don't worry, some loves just weren't meant to last," Beca sighed.
"But you will try again, won't you?" asked Kommissar, voice more gentle than Beca had ever heard from her before.
"Yes. I just don't know who with," Beca answered, though she was staring up at Kommissar now.
"I don't know either," Kommissar replied. "But how about, until you find someone, you spend time with me? I haven't got anyone else either."
"Oh, you haven't?" Beca asked suddenly.
"You know that, Maus," Kommissar replied.
"I don't know, Calamity might disagree," Beca finally acknowledged some of her own minor jealousy.
"Ah, envious?" Kommissar laughed despite how serious the mood had been so far. "I was only ever looking at her because she reminded me of me, yet you never once accidently complimented her."
"Well, she's not really my type," Beca muttered, embarrassed now for having ever brought up the subject of her envy. Kommissar probably wouldn't ever let her live that one down now.
"She's just as rude and arrogant as I am," Kommissar replied smugly. "And we were both your rivals."
"You're prettier," Beca grunted, then she slapped her forehead.
"So you only go for the pretty ones," Kommissar sounded pleased while Beca groaned at herself again. "Or maybe it is just the soldiers. Your Chloe seemed very interested in Chicago, even though I thought she used to have a thing for you."
"She did," Beca grunted. "But I guess you're right, military and music just go well together."
"Good thing, then, that Calamity was never in the army as a proper soldier," Kommissar said. "Or I might've had more of a competition."
"Trust me," Beca said without thinking. "No one could ever compare to you," then she slapped her forehead again.
"But truly, do you wish to travel with me?" Kommissar asked, returning to a more serious topic. "We could partner up."
"Can we do that?" Beca asked. "If you're touring and I'm working with DJ, how will that line up?"
"Perhaps you can get his permission to help produce for DSM? Like I said, we are an official band, and even though our music and his aren't exactly the same, I can work something out and maybe have DSM start shifting in a new direction musically, even if only for a little while…"
Kommissar trailed off, leaving the field open for Beca to add her own two cents. It really did feel so strange. If anyone had told Beca, mere hours ago, that she might be making a business and romance deal with her old rival/flame while out on Barden lake, she would've laughed, but life really did have a strange way of making the impossible possible. Now Beca wondered if it could work another impossible miracle…
"Sure," she agreed. "I mean, I don't have anyone I'm dating right now, you know…" Beca wondered briefly then if the reason she'd brushed Theo off was because her subconscious was still waiting for someone else, even though, back then, it was illogical to think she ever would've even seen that someone else again, let alone hook up with them, but here they were now, mere inches away from each other in the moonlight.
"Wait a moment, who ever said anything about dating, Maus?" Kommissar teased and Beca realized her blunder too late.
"I meant 'date' as in, 'somewhere to go at a certain time'. I don't have any dates I need to keep," she tried to amend, stuttering awkwardly.
"Sure you did," Kommissar chuckled and Beca blushed, once again relieved that it was so late. The moon wasn't bright enough to show her blush.
"But I suppose that if you do have a lot of free time, we need not spend all of it in a recording studio," Kommissar said slowly.
"What do you mean by that?" Beca tried to keep her cool at the insinuations.
"I mean that, if you don't have anyone to date, that is, no dates to keep," the woman paused to smirk while Beca pouted. "I could fill that role."
"Only if you think you're ready," Beca tried to puff her chest up, but Kommissar only let out a bark of laughter.
"Excellent," she said, satisfied. She felt the same way Beca did. It was strange to be back after so long, but it was actually really nice, and though it might've been a bad idea to try rekindling a small flame that never stood a chance anyway, it seemed to be something that both of them wanted.
"So that's it, then?" Beca asked. "I ask DJ if I can produce for you and we work together?"
"If all goes well, yes," Kommissar nodded.
"Ok. But what do we do now for the rest of the night? And tomorrow?" Beca asked.
"If you are not too busy, perhaps you could spend some of that day with me," Kommissar suggested and Beca's heart leapt again at the softness and genuine interest in Kommissar's voice.
"I haven't got any plans for the next 36 hours," Beca said with a stupid grin.
"Excellent," Kommissar repeated. "Nor do I." And before Beca even had time to react, Kommissar kissed her. It was a small, chaste, gentle thing, but it held so much surprise, change and chance, that Beca thought she would die right then and there, but honestly, that would've been fine with her.
In the distance, a canoe overturned and an outraged Amy and Bumper broke the surface of the lake, sputtering and swearing as the culprits, Flo, Cynthia and Mary, tried to row away as fast as they could. Beca missed it all, however, eyes too fixated upon Kommissar to notice anything else, and from the way Kommissar was staring back, Beca knew she was just as blind with love.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Hey! Iris! Over here!" Iris turned to see Theresa flagging her down from across the cafeteria. Instantly, Iris felt her stomach twist and a smile began to spread across her face, unbidden.
"I'm coming, I'm coming! Hold your horses!" she teased, weaving through other students and tables to reach Theresa.
"It's about time!" Theresa teased, scooting over to give Iris space to sit down.
"Well unlike some people, I don't sprint to the cafeteria because I'm not a fat pig," Iris snickered.
"Hey, they were having enchiladas! What was I supposed to do, walk?" Theresa scoffed.
"Ok, fair enough," Iris shook her head, but she couldn't help but smile in agreement. Enchilada day
was
pretty awesome…
"So, anyway, how have classes been?" Theresa asked as she began to chow down on her lunch. It was readily apparent why she'd made Iris do the talking first. But Iris was more than happy to comply, casually recalling how the day had gone for her so far. But even though the chatter was idle, the thoughts in Iris' head were much more dynamic and disorganized.
She and Theresa had been friends for about a year and a half now, having met back in the last year of middle school. They'd met through a mutual friend, all of them sharing a cafeteria table for that entire year. They became a little squad, but once it was time to move onto high school, their group parted ways. Some of them wound up going to different schools while others simply did not have schedules that lined up with everyone else. But through sheer dumb luck, Iris and Theresa's schedules managed to stay fairly similar. At least enough that they were still able to have lunch together, and one class at the end of the day.
It was during that first semester of high school that Iris first began crushing on Theresa. It was a small thing, she couldn't have even said what exactly triggered the change, she just remembered greeting Theresa one day during class and suddenly finding her more beautiful than normal. But it wasn't because of anything specific that Theresa had done to herself. She looked no different than she normally did. But for some reason, Iris hadn't been able to stop staring at her for the entire lecture.
"I'm acting like a creep!" she laughed at herself and shook her head, but it was not enough to shut down her feelings for the other girl. What had once been a simple, platonic friendship had suddenly blossomed into a crush, at least on Iris' side. Iris was fairly certain Theresa wasn't into women, and although the thought saddened Iris to some degree, the warmth and affection and attraction she felt for Theresa still stayed the same.
If there was one good thing to come out of the one-sided affair, it was that, if nothing else, at least Iris was able to be confident in her own sexuality. The way she felt for Theresa was just too strong. And she was lucky to say, it was a good, warm, fuzzy feeling too. Sure, it would've been nice if Theresa reciprocated. Iris wanted nothing more than to be close to her and spend more time with her outside of class, but of course Iris wasn't going to push anything. The affection she felt for Theresa was just too pure. As much as she wanted Theresa, she didn't want a relationship unless it was mutual, and because she knew the odds were low of that ever happening, it didn't bother her too much to think that it never would.
"As crazy as it sounds, just the feeling of being in love is nice enough." That was how Iris had described it one of her friends, the only one to know about her crush. And it was true! Again, sure, Iris did dream of being Theresa's romantic partner, but the feeling of actually having a crush on her was so foreign and… enjoyable, that it almost made the implied rejection worth it. Even if nothing would ever actually come of the crush, it was still fun to dream, right?
"So, how about you?" Iris asked as she finally finished the rundown of her day. It had been pretty mundane, but she'd tried to tell it in a comedic and interesting light just to keep Theresa interested. Regardless of relationship status, Iris did still want to look good in front of Theresa.
"Well, as you know, I've been looking forward to today's lunch since breakfast this morning!" Theresa joked. Because Iris had known why Theresa had insisted that she start talking first, Iris made sure to time her story to go on just long enough for Theresa to finish her enchilada. Now that it was gone, Theresa was ready to take her turn.
She spent the rest of lunch eagerly chatting Iris' ears off. Unlike Iris, her life was slightly more exciting, so she had a few more interesting stories to tell. That weekend, she and her brother had gone adventuring in the woods and even though they had no death-defying stories to tell, they
had
gotten lost once and managed to go swimming in a river they found. And then Theresa recounted the intense game of fetch she'd played with her four dogs just the previous night. And then she bragged about how she'd climbed on the roof just to take some aesthetic pictures under the stars.
Iris listened to every story with rapt attention, but even though her ears were glued on Theresa's lovely voice, her eyes were drinking in every inch of the other girl. Perhaps it was weird and "creeper"-ish, but Theresa was just incredibly good looking. She had nice hair, nice eyes, a nice face, a nice smile… She was expressive when she told her stories and she smelled vaguely of flower-scented bodywash. A few times, Iris began smiling for no other reason than simply basking in Theresa's presence, soaking in her voice and happily taking up her time. But in order to conceal the true reason behind every smile, Iris made sure to laugh every now and then.
No, she wasn't just laughing because she was giddy. She was totally laughing because Theresa had so many interesting stories! Yeah, that was it! Because as little as Iris worried about the crush being one-sided, she still didn't want Theresa finding out. For one, it felt too embarrassing. For another, she already knew the answer would be no. She didn't need to hear it spelled out.
For a third, although this was a smaller concern of hers, she didn't want it to change any aspect of their friendship. She did genuinely enjoy Theresa as a friend, so she didn't want to do anything to jeopardize that. Now, she was sure Theresa would be the type of girl to take it all in good grace even if she declined (which was yet another reason Iris was so head-over-heels, Theresa was a very relaxed and understanding girl), but she still didn't to open that can of works unless absolutely necessary.
Besides, selfishly, Iris enjoyed just being allowed to dream, and to have a crush without having to confront the possibility of a serious relationship. As such, that gave her yet another excuse to just hide and exist. It was fun being in love, why not continue to enjoy it a little longer before approaching any more serious questions?
"-and I've got that stupid bio project I need to start working on!" Theresa rolled her eyes and huffed.
"Oh, crap, I haven't started that thing either!" Iris laughed.
"Oh, thank god, now I feel better," Theresa echoed the laugh, looking much more relieved to hear she wasn't the only slacker.
"Would you want to come over to my place after school so we can get started on it?" Iris suggested.
"Sure!" Theresa looked delighted by the idea and Iris felt her heart skip a beat. Even if she had every intention of
only
working on the project, it
did
fill her with a small sense of pride and excitement to think that Theresa was going to hang out with her
at her house
after school.
"Well, I can't wait!" Iris told her enthusiastically as lunch drew to a close.
"Me neither," Theresa smiled at Iris and Iris' heart skipped a beat again. Wow, Theresa sure was gorgeous…
Iris spent the entire walk back to class grinning like an idiot, certain that she was a bright red. God, she was
so
in love! But it felt
so nice!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"WOO HOOOOOOO!" A joyful voice screamed out as its owner jumped from the massive cliff into the dark waves waiting below. For a moment after the jump, there was only silence, but then a head of short, spiky black hair broke the surface of the water.
"Come on in! The water is fine!" the jumper cried back to her friends still waiting on the cliff above.
"I thought I was supposed to go first, Alice!" one of the friends, Jacob, bellowed back down to her in good humor. Alice only gave him a playful salute before vanishing under the water again, swimming away from the cliffs and towards the shore.
"Well then, who's up next?" Jacob chuckled, turning to his other two companions. When they only exchanged amused glances, Jacob shrugged. "Ok, guess it'll be me!" he said, then he took a few steps back away from the cliff's edge…
"Is this really necessary?" Edward smirked.
"Absolutely." Jacob sounded dead serious before he suddenly took off running. Right at the edge of the cliff, he took a powerful leap.
"AWWWOOOOOOOOOO!" he shouted the entire way down. Edward sighed and shook his head.
"I wish you'd told me he was like this sooner," he whispered to Bella.
"If I had, you guys would've never hooked up," Bella reminded him with an amused smirk.
"Fair enough," Edward couldn't stop a smile as he conceded. "Now, who's next?"
"I'll go," Bella shrugged. "And I'll even do a swan dive, because why not?" she chuckled, then she took a graceful leap off the cliff.
Once all of them had swum to shore, they were met with a picnic Jacob had set out earlier, protected from the sun by coolers and umbrellas.
"Wow! You really went all out!" Bella smiled in awe as she took in all the food laid out for her and the others. Along with the typical sandwiches, salads, lemonade, and cookies, there were a lot more complicated and expensive dishes like steak, chicken, pulled pork, pasta and pastries.
"Ain't nothing wrong with that!" Jacob grinned excitedly. This wasn't just going to be a picnic, but a feast fit for kings and queens!
"You pig," Bella teased.
"Wolf," Jacob corrected, winking at her before he began to stuff his face.
"Yeah, talk about wolfing things down!" Alice remarked. Jacob pretended to puke in response to her lame pun, so she kicked a bit of sand at him before darting over to Bella's side and nestling up nice and close to her.
Jacob watched as Alice peppered Bella's face in kisses and then he turned a pleading face to Edward.
"Absolutely not," he deadpanned.
"Pretty please?" Jacob scooted closer to the vampire and held out his cheek.
"Alright, fine," Edward caved pretty quickly, pressing his cold lips against Jacob's warm, sun-kissed skin. Jacob growled in pleasure before returning the favor, leaving a BBQ stain on Edward's pale cheek.
"Gross," he muttered, but even though he wiped his cheek off dramatically, he was smiling the entire time.
Not long after, the other Cullens finally arrived.
"Sorry we're late!" Carlisle shouted as he and the rest of the coven walked over. "The hospital was exceptionally busy today, what with all the summer-related injuries!"
"It's not a problem at all," Bella smiled as he and the others sat down beside her.
"I brought more food in case you were still hungry," Esme smiled brightly as she pulled several giant coolers from behind her back. While Bella smiled weakly, Jacob's eyes lit up like the sun.
"Thank you, ma'am!" he cried, then he proceeded to start wolfing down a second lunch.
"Disgusting," Rosalie cast her most ferocious glare at the wolf, but for once, he didn't care at all. Esme's cooking was much too delicious!
"Awww, c'mon, babe! You can't deny that was pretty funny," Emmett laughed and nudged Rosalie.
"Whatever," Rosalie huffed and rolled her eyes before sitting down in the chair she'd brought with her. There was no way she was going to get sand all over her fancy bikini! Sure, the others had blankets and towels, but they still weren't very good at keeping sand out of swimsuits.
And before long, another pack of guests came to the beach. This time, they were with Jacob.
"Gaycob! Hey, Gaycob!" they bellowed. Jacob turned to see Quil, Embry and Seth swimming over from the cliffs.
"Got a little present for ya!" Seth said cheerfully, pulling a small plastic bag from his swim trunk's pockets. In the bag was a little pride flag.
"Gee. Thanks." Jacob grunted.
"Read what it says!" Seth insisted, gesturing to the flag. Jacob removed it from its protective baggy and unfurled it.

Team Gay-job. He plays for his own team and the other team!

And above the words "own team" was a wolf paw while, above the words "other team", was a pair of vampire fangs.
"Wowwww," Jacob buried his face in his hands while everyone else began to laugh.
"It's sweet!" Bella insisted.
"And very fitting!" Edward agreed smugly, taking the flag and tucking it behind Jacob's ear.
"You look so pretty!" Alice snickered. And as soon as Jasper and Emmett saw it, they burst into roars of laughter. Even Rosalie had to hide a grin, although it was more of a smirk at Jacob's predicament than amusement at the joke flag.
Only Carlisle and Esme showed any mercy, Carlisle smiling and shaking his head while Esme gave Jacob a compassionate smile.
"We're proud of you, honey," she told him. Then she also handed him a pride flag, although it was much larger and prettier. Likewise, on each stripe of the flag, there was a supportive message. One from every Cullen.
"Oh. Thanks," Jacob felt his heart fill with affection for Esme and the other Cullens. He touched the flag reverently and smiled.
"Don't think I didn't make you one too," Esme grinned, turning to Bella and handing her a similar flag.
"Thank you," Bella murmured in gratitude as she took the flag.
"Love you, Bells!" Alice nuzzled Bella again as she studied her new flag with a soft, small smile on her face.
"Oh, Alice, please don't!" Bella said, half joking and half serious. She wasn't sure what she'd do if the tiny vampire started crying.
"Don't worry, I won't!" Alice promised, then she kissed Bella's cheek again as she wrapped herself and Bella up in the flag.
"Awww, it's so cute that it makes me sick!" Emmett declared.
"Oh, shut up, Emmett," Alice grunted as Esme threw Emmett a small glare.
"What?" he asked innocently. Edward threw an empty bottle at Emmett's head in response.
"Ouch!" Emmett cried indignantly as the bottle bounced off of him with a metallic clang.
"Boys," Esme finally interjected.
"Sorry," Emmett and Edward both apologized, but neither of them looked very sorry.
"So, now that we're all here, how about we go have some real fun?" Seth pleaded, pointing to the waves.
"Heck yeah!" Quil and Embry took off at once, needing no further prompting. Jacob turned to Edward.
"Do I have to?" Edward asked, but he already knew the answer.
"Come on, Eddie, go play with your boy toy!" Jasper teased.
"Didn't need to hear that," Rosalie scowled at Jasper.
"Oh, hush," Jasper snorted. Then he tossed a handful of sand at Rosalie.
"JASPER!" Rosalie thundered, but Jasper took off running for the water. He knew Rosalie wouldn't follow him because of what the salt would do to her gorgeous, flowing locks.
Emmett was the next to go running. He hit the water so hard that the waves were knocked over by
him
rather than the other way around.
"Come on, Edward, let's go," Bella laughed, standing up as the tide temporarily reversed itself from the force of Emmett slamming into it.
"How come you're inviting him and not me?" Alice pouted.
"Because I already know you'll follow me in," Bella teased. Alice continued to pout, but she couldn't deny that Bella was totally right.
"Ok, fine," Edward pretended to groan as everyone else made their way to the water.
"You coming, Jacob?" he asked, not bothering to turn around. But maybe he should have, because as soon as he was on his feet, Jacob jumped onto his back. "Well, guess that answers that question!" Edward grunted.
"Mush, Edward! Onward! Forward! Excelsior!" Jacob cried, wrapping an arm around Edward's shoulders as he pointed to the water.
"Jacob!" Edward rolled his amber eyes, but he couldn't stop a smile from twitching across his face.
"Oooh, carry me too!" Alice pleaded, then before Bella even had time to blink, Alice was suddenly perched upon her back. It was a good thing Alice was so tiny! Even someone as unathletic as Bella could carry her around quite easily.
So the two happy couples joined their friends in the water while Rosalie, Carlisle and Esme remained on shore. Carlisle and Esme watched with matching smiles as two more of their clan finally found their significant others, and even Rosalie couldn't stop a small smile. She may not have approved of Alice and Edward, or of the people they'd chosen to be with (seriously, a human and a werewolf. Could it have been any worse?), but she had to admit that they were all very cute. In fact, as she continued to watch them splash around, she finally whipped out her phone and snapped a photo, adding a rainbow filter to it. Then she got off her fancy little chair and joined the others in the water.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Storm stared out her bedroom window. The sky was an eerie, dismal gray and there was something heavy in the air. She didn't have to be a meteorologist to know that a storm was coming. There was just something about the way everything looked, felt and smelled right before a storm. No matter how quickly or quietly the clouds crept in, there was always something in the air that gave it away. Something so unnamable yet so undeniable. And it was just like the storm raging on inside of her.
The only difference was that the fallout of her internal storm would go unnoticed. Even if the thunder and lightning were deafening and blinding within the mind of the person suffering through the storm, because no visible fallout was ever left behind, those were the storms that were ignored and disbelieved the most often. And ironically, sometimes, they were also the most destructive and tumultuous in the long run.
CRASH!
The first roll of thunder echoed across the sky, loud and sudden, but Storm didn't even flinch. Although the thunder had been impossible to see coming, Storm had still known it was going to happen either way. Never if, only when. And after that initial rumble, many more followed suit. Lightning and rain accompanied it, all three of them increasing in frequency and intensity as time carried on.
Storm continued to stare unseeingly out the window. It really was just like what was going on inside. First, a clear sky. Not a worry in the world. And then, the first signs and shades of gray. The contention on the legality and morality of gay marriage. The sky got darker and grayer as the battle got more ferocious and intense. Morals, science, philosophy, history, religion, politics and society clashed, brewing up a perfect storm. The air began to charge, Storm could smell trouble coming. She could feel the heavy, intense humidity as the atmosphere continued to crackle with tension.
Then finally, with the gray almost black, the first roll of thunder echoed across the sky and shook the earth. Every side began to hurl insults and accusations. Everyone had a reason behind their stance, and they butted heads, like thunder and lightning. The rain of confusion, panic, fear and despair quickly filled the spaces between the thunder and lightning.
As her community continued to clash over the verdict, Storm was swept up in the turbulence. It was not a battle she'd even foreseen herself fighting, but as a lesbian, she was going to be dragged into it one way or another. She began to research every aspect of the case, trying to understand why there was such debate surrounding something that seemed so obvious and simple. Ever place she checked sited historical and religious grounds, condemning gay marriage purely for those two reasons.
"But it's all nonsense, isn't it?!" Storm asked her screen as she scrolled through page after page of anti-gay rhetoric. But the deeper down the rabbit hole she fell, the digger the grave she dug herself. Even though she'd considered their claims ludicrous in the beginning, time began wearing down on her the way wind and rain wore down on people caught in a storm. The words circled around her head and, without her consent, she found a tiny part of her subconscious beginning to believe it.
Drops of rain, drops of doubt, came faster and harder until it felt like a torrent, illuminated by lightning and echoed by thunder. Soon, she was blinded by rain, frantic and tearful as she continued to be tossed back and forth between the two mighty winds. Was it right or was it wrong? Who did she believe? When either side was backed by conviction and testimony, was there a way to ascertain the truth? The correct side?
It was raining, it was pouring, it was absolutely storming. The wind was howling and creating a stir. At the same time, Storm wondered about her immortal soul. She wasn't even sure she believed in souls, but if they
were
real, was hers in danger? Was it something she should try to fix? Because one of the strongest cases on the opposing side was that even if homosexuality itself was not an issue, the unrepentant nature of the people who identified with such a label certainly was.
Hmmm, perhaps a celibate life would be enough to satisfy whatever angry deity that existed? She could deny herself that lifestyle, surely! It would be easy, since she already wasn't very good with people. Besides, if that was the price she had to pay to avoid eternal suffering, that was a very small price indeed… Right?
But Hell was promised to be a place of weeping and gnashing of teeth. Wasn't that what Storm was doing already? God's salvation clearly wasn't working. If it were, she wouldn't have felt this way. She would've felt his peace and courage flowing through her. But at the moment, she felt anything but. It was rather backward, given all that Storm was learning about...
The rain continued to pour and Storm continued to research. She rationalized with herself, trying to find the side that seemed the most logical and correct. Unfortunately, it seemed that the side most detrimental to her health was also the one that was the most persuasive. The guilt and shame added themselves to the storm and a vicious cycle was born. It felt like the harder Storm tried to fix herself, the more broken she became.
Anger and resentment were next, like blazing bolts of lightning. She was angry at the world for putting her in such a miserable position, but what could she do except scream with the thunder and cry with the rain? Why was there no obvious answer? Why did every choice end in pain?
As the tempest outside lashed at her window, the tempest within lashed at her heart and mind and soul. Sleeping too much and eating too little, but Storm had no idea how to fix that problem either. She was full of queasiness and despair. Nothing brought her any pleasure anymore. Just guilt. She shouldn't waste time on idle pleasures anyway. Her quest for the truth had taken complete control of her life, an all-consuming obsession that blinded her as much as the gale outside did. There was so much tragedy on all sides…
But then, after long enough, Storm gave out. It drained her until she had nothing left to give. The lightning stopped. The thundered quieted into silence. The rain softened into mist. Then the dark gray grew paler and paler as the clouds began to dissipate, spent of all their energy. But the thing about being at rock bottom, well, there was only one way to go after that: up.
Without even meaning to, Storm's internal storm dissipated. With nothing left to feed on, the fear went away. With no more emotions or tears left to cry, Storm was finally able to calm down long enough to find her balance again. She was finally able to see clearly. Even guilt turned into acceptance. She was a lesbian and that was that. If God wanted her to be straight, he could fix her himself. Otherwise, she didn't care anymore.
The sky was still overcast, a uniformed gray that seemed endless, but the chaos was over. The ground was still soaked, and Storm wondered if anything was knocked over during the tempest, but it was quiet again. There was neither sun nor rainbow, but the lightning and rain were gone. Now that she was totally empty, she was a clean slate. A fresh start. A rebirth? She looked out at the endless gray.
"The storm is over, but the recovery has only just begun…"
Rain came pouring down, when I was drowning that's when I could finally breathe. And by morning, gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean...
-Taylor Swift

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It wasn't rare for a demigod to wish that they were someone else. On the contrary, that was one of their defining traits! But it made sense, the life of a demigod was seldom happy. And Nico di Angelo was no exception. For starters, he was the son of Hades. Being the son of a Death God meant he got a bad rap from his father, and pretty much everyone else hated or feared him by default. And the title "Ghost King" didn't exactly look good on a nametag… or a résumé… or anything else. It didn't really help with his "relatability" factor.
Secondly, being the son of Hades meant you also were naturally inclined towards death yourself. All of your powers and aesthetic came from gloom and doom, not a pleasant sight for anyone except goths, emos and punks. The average Hot Topic customer, in other words. But regardless of your choices in life, you would forever gravitate towards the macabre. Death and darkness and all that jazz. And hey, while summoning up legions of the undead did have its perks, it wasn't a very enjoyable party trick. So making (living) friends was hard.
But if that wasn't bad enough, there was also the small matter of the fact that Nico wasn't even supposed to be alive. His mere existence had broken a treaty between the gods and someone had tried to kill him back when he was just a boy! That much never changed. The whole world was still out to get him, determined to send him back to his father the hard way
just because
his father was Hades. And it sucked, because you could be the kindest, gentlest soul alive, but just because of who your dad was, you'd automatically be on everyone's hit list!
So yeah, Nico had a lot of reasons to wish that he were someone else. But the most current issue was the fact that he was gay. Perhaps that sounded silly to a person of this day and age, and perhaps it sounded silly in comparison to everything else that he was facing, but Nico had grown up in a very different time and place. In his day, homosexuality was a crime. It was mentally and morally wrong! And that belief was so engrained in him that he still held onto this internalized homophobia despite being in a very different time and place
now.
But that was it! Nico had not witnessed the progression of society. To him, the 40s were only yesterday. Because of that sharp transition, it hadn't been easy dealing with his first crush. It was on a fellow demigod (Son of Poseidon and Savior of Olympus, no less), but no amount of denial or prayer would change it. No matter how much Nico hid, he could not change his feelings towards Percy Jackson. Instead, the crush only got even bigger with time. He wanted to be with Percy in every sense of the word. Physically and sexually, yes, but also mentally and emotionally. He wanted to be the one Percy smiled at and kissed, to be the one Percy fought for and came home to, to be the one to make Percy proud, and to make him laugh! Envy wasn't a strong enough word to describe how Nico felt about Annabeth.
Unlike Nico, she actually had a chance with Percy since Percy was straight. And even more than that,
they
could be open about their sexualities. Nico had kept his secret for so long, and then that blasted Cupid outed him in front of one of his other close friends! The anger and humiliation had been unspeakable as he was finally forced to confess his crush. Love was cruel, especially to those whom it enticed. Love was more than just a monster, it was a god. And just as any god, it demanded sacrifice. But there was no sacrifice without blood.
And even though this other close friend vowed to never tell Nico's secret to anybody else, the words still rung hollow for poor Nico. He hadn't just been confessing to Jason, he'd been confessing to himself, and that had been the most painful part of all. Cupid had shown him mercy after that, a kind, sad, understanding look in his eyes, but Nico was too angry to care. There was just so much going on all at once, how could anyone think they understood what it was like for him? Not even Cupid could understand, although he would claim to. But Jason
certainly
wouldn't. No, not the handsome, perfect, golden Son of Jupiter. Who was also straight, by the way.
No, Nico was truly alone in this. Hades wouldn't understand. His monster army wouldn't understand. Cupid didn't understand. Jason didn't understand. And even if Percy had been there, he wouldn't have understood either. Like Jason, he was another charming, perfect, heroic, golden boy. The beloved hero of Olympus. It made Nico seethe that he should've fallen in love with someone so disgustingly perfect and attractive. Especially since he was on the total opposite end of that spectrum. But life was cruel.
If fate wanted to have a good laugh by turning Nico into the butt of some cosmic joke, having a pathetic and misunderstood loner-loser like him fall in love with someone like
Percy
was a great start. Half the time, Nico couldn't even tell if it was love anymore. Percy had driven him mad so many times before, and had been a great source of pain for the son of Hades, and not just because of the unrequited love.
There was a lot more Nico had to be frustrated about and envious of in regard to Percy Jackson. But as much as Nico had tried to get himself to hate Percy, it was just as effective as simply hoping the crush would go away on its own. If anything, the harder Nico tried to hate Percy, the stronger the one-sided attraction became. Now Percy consumed most of Nico's thoughts, and whether they were good or bad, it was torture. So trying to simply forget Percy had failed. And trying to hate Percy had failed. So that only left one other option…
It was the most disgusting option of all, and Nico had tried to fight it, but Cupid refused to even bend until Nico submitted first. Finally forcing the boy to confess, not just to him or Jason, but himself, had been the true key and the greatest sacrifice. But even though Nico had finally admitted it to himself, that didn't make accepting it any easier. Nico still had a long way to go before acceptance turned into pride.
It wasn't rare for a demigod to wish that they were someone else. On the contrary, that was one of their defining traits! But it made sense, the life of a demigod was seldom happy. And Nico di Angelo was no exception.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Dr. Lockewood sighed unhappily. As perfect as life was, something felt just a little bit wrong. Dr. Lockewood knew it was because they were going through a period of turmoil regarding their gender, but they still weren't sure what to do about it. They had been born a male, but there had been a subtle yet persistent feeling of dysphoria in them ever since they were fairly young. In the beginning, they'd been able to ignore the feeling, just because it wasn't too intense, but at least over the past year or so, it had become stronger and stronger.
"I… know I don't feel like a man, but… Do I feel like a woman?" Dr. Lockewood would sometimes speak their thoughts out loud, just to try to sort through them. They had experimented with female names, pronouns and fashion, and it
did
feel more comfortable than the male alternative, but it still wasn't a clear-cut feeling. They didn't have some huge epiphany the first time they ever tried on a dress. Instead, it felt more like… an old comfort. Like, a warm feeling they hadn't experienced in a very long time, something beckoning them home.
That had prompted the start of their transition, beginning with mentally using gender neutral pronouns. The rest of the world had no idea, but Dr. Lockewood no longer conceptualized themself as a "he/him". But because they didn't quite conceptualize themself as a "she/her" either (not yet, at least), for the time being, they used "they/them". It felt a little bit wrong to use "they/them", but at the same time, there was a subtle feeling of familiarity that they'd never felt while using male pronouns.
"It still feels a little bit wrong, but I'm sure I'll get used to it as time passed," Dr. Lockewood sighed. That was the downside to being so early in the transition stages. Not only were they not quite sure
how
to proceed, they weren't even sure where they were supposed to be preceding to, so to speak. Dr. Lockewood was pretty sure they were MtF, but they weren't completely sure just yet (hence the gender-neutral pronouns). And it was hard to tell. There was so great sign they could look for. They just had to trust their feelings, which was difficult enough already.
"I wonder, should I start hormones now? Or should I wait… On the one hand, starting them now might help me figure out my gender a bit faster and clearer than just waiting and reflecting. On the other, I don't know if I want to go through with it unless I'm completely sure…" That was another downside to being an adult and
then
transitioning. Even though there was absolutely nothing wrong with being an adult transgender person, that
did
make it trickier on several levels.
For one, Dr. Lockewood had long-since passed through puberty, so if they did ever want to medically transition, they had a lot of work to "undo". For another, because they'd lived as their assigned gender for a lot longer, they were willing to assume that part of their current doubt stemmed from that. They'd spent so much of their life as a guy that it was hard to imagine being anything but. Likewise, because the culture they were raised in had been beholden to a rather strict binary, that was another reason they weren't sure of what their gender was. They may not have felt like a man, but they didn't quite feel like a woman either. But was that because of an internal thing, or a societal thing? If only it was easier to tell!
But even if they weren't sure of "what they were", so to speak, they knew what they were not, so they
did
have a small starting ground.
"Well, I guess I could always
start
HRT, but if I decide that it's not for me, I can always opt out," they continued to talk themselves through. So perhaps it would be worth it to try hormones now and see if the chemical shift would shed anymore light on their gender discovery. If it turned out that Dr. Lockewood did feel happier on hormones, then they would continue to transition. But if they were
not
satisfied, well, they would cross that bridge once they got to it. First things first. Unfortunately, transitioning was a slow process.
But with some semblance of a plan starting to take shape, Dr. Lockewood was quick to put in a request for a consultation. How funny, they were a medical doctor, but now they had to seek the help of another in order to decide what "medication" would be a best fit for them. But even just getting to fill out a request for a consultation felt like a huge step in the right direction. Even though the doctor wouldn't be able to just magically decide whether or not Dr. Lockewood was trans, the thought of finally being able to talk things over with someone else sure did feel liberating!
ooo
"So, what do you think, doc?" Dr. Lockewood asked.
"Well, from what you've reported to me, I would indeed support your decision to begin HRT," the therapist replied, mulling over her notes.
"So you'll give me a referral?" Dr. Lockewood felt their heart leap into their throat. Even though this had been something they'd been considering for ages, to actually take one step closer to that dream was… surreal!
"Yes," the doctor replied, smiling gently at Dr. Lockewood. Although Dr. Lockewood may have had their doubts, the therapist was much more confident. She'd seen plenty of patients just like Dr. Lockewood in her day, and even though each patient was unique and not every single one of them was trans, she was pretty good at being able to figure out if someone was or wasn't based on how their sessions with her went.
Dr. Lockewood had repeatedly said that they were uncertain, so part of their hesitancy surrounding HRT was that they didn't even know if they were a woman to begin with, but therapist was quick to reassure Dr. Lockewood just the same.
"Even if you aren't sure yet, you will be someday," she promised. "I'm not saying you will definitely decide you're a woman, though. Perhaps you'll ultimately realize you're nonbinary, or another gender! Either way, it's wonderful that you're willing to experiment. And remember, there is no wrong answer. Even if you don't ultimately identify the way you thought you would, your gender is valid regardless."
"Well, the question
has
been on my mind more and more of late," Dr. Lockewood admitted shyly. "I didn't used to think about this stuff, it just kinda… started recently. I'm not really sure why, but…"
"Well, it is never too late to transition. Queer people aren't just youth, they're adults and elderly people, too!" the therapist reminded. "So you don't necessarily need a "reason" to start questioning your gender. As soon as it becomes something important enough to you that you experiment with it, that's the only reason you need. There is no right way to transition, because it's different for every person!"
"I know, I just hope my feelings point towards something clear soon," Dr. Lockewood confessed. They were not closed to the idea that they may be nonbinary, or another gender, they just wished that their feelings would point them in
some
direction.
"Well, that's what you're doing right now, isn't it?" the therapist asked. "Even though you may not feel any gut instinct, you're taking the first step towards testing the waters! And, if it's of any reassurance, the doubt can be considered, in a way, proof that you are trans."
"What?" Dr. Lockewood asked. "My doubt is proof that I'm trans?"
"I know, this is a little unprofessional of me to say," the therapist admitted. "It's an oversimplification, but the way I see it, very few cis people mull over their gender this much. So even if you aren't sure of what gender you might be, and even if you might experience doubt in the days and months to come, you can have faith and certainty in your identity as a trans person."
And Dr. Lockewood's eyes lit up in understanding. It was true! Even though cis people could question their gender, they were likely to not feel as conflicted as someone who was actually trans, even if that person in question wasn't sure what their gender was yet. So, in a weird way, that feeling of something being a little bit wrong was actually the surest proof that Dr. Lockewood was trans. They may not have been sure of the specifics, but realizing that their doubt was all part of the journey felt uplifting, and after long enough, it began to feel a little bit right!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Amelia watched the Babadook scamper back to its corner, dragging the bowl of worms with it in defeat. Her heart was still pounding as she recovered from its most recent attempt on her life. It may not have taken her more than a second to subdue the weakened creature, but in the moment when it first struck, she'd been rendered immobile. Frozen in fear, she could only watch as the creature rose up to its full height in attempt to scare her. But she managed to gather her strength and courage just in the nick of time. Now, the pathetic creature was sulking in its corner again, slurping up its worms angrily. But even though
he
was obviously upset, Amelia was not. Not anymore.
"There now, Mr. Babadook, you aren't so scary at all!" she murmured, both to herself and the Babadook itself. Granted, this was only a half-truth, but it gave Amelia the courage to wait until the Babadook was done eating. Once it was finished, it slid the bowl back to her, still upset.
"Thank you," she told it serenely, then after she picked up the bowl, she turned her back on the Babadook and went back upstairs. She had faith that it would not try to attack her again, and she was correct. All it did was glare at her even after she shut the basement door again.
ooo
The next time it tried to attack, a week and a half had passed. Once again, it tried to use brute force, slapping the bowl of worms right out of Amelia's hands. As it crashed the floor, scattering the worms everywhere, Amelia leapt back in terror. She tripped over the bottom stair of the basement and landed awkwardly on the one stair directly above it. The Babadook wasted no time in towering over her, using its psychic power to haunt her and fill her heart and mind with grief.
Images of her husband and son dying, images of rainy funerals, images of an empty house… Loneliness, isolation, guilt, regret… Tears were streaming down her face before she even knew it, further impairing her from taking an offensive or defensive stance. But then, through the haze of agony and sorrow, she thought she heard her son calling to her.
"Mom! You can't let it in!"
And Amelia clung to that desperate cry, letting it play over and over in her mind again.
Then finally, she raised her own voice.
"It's ok!" she cried, removing her arms from her head and throwing them up at the hungry, angry Babadook. It was a vulnerable position to take, but therein lay the key to victory. If she kept trying to resist, the Babadook would keep wearing her down. The key to defeating it was not to defeat it, but to "surrender" to it. She had to deny her instincts and be vulnerable, no matter how insane it seemed.
"It's ok!" she repeated, still waving her arms frantically. "It's alright! Shhh, calm down! Shh!" Amelia continued to soothe the creature and, slowly but surely, it backed away. The psychic assault weakened until it finally stopped entirely. Amelia was able to stand up again, a bit bruised and shaken, but not seriously injured. She continued to calm the creature and it continued to retreat from her. Once it was curled up in its corner, Amelia salvaged the worms and slid the bowl over to it. For a moment, it seemed like the Babadook would try to reject the worms again, but after a few seconds, Amelia heard the tell-tale sound of slurping.
Once it was finished, as customary, it slid the empty bowl back to her.
"Thank you," she told it, then she departed, the Babadook still growling behind her. But it did not try to attack her again.
ooo
But not every feeding time resulted in a battle. One day, Amelia brought down the bowl of worms, but she couldn't see or hear the Babadook. But she knew it had not escaped, because she could still feel its presence. And she knew that, once the Babadook came to you, it would never leave. As it turned out, though, the creature was in a different corner of the room and it was making strange snuffling sounds. Was it… crying?
"Awww, poor thing," Amelia clucked her tongue compassionately as she approached the miserable mass of shadow. She'd never come this close to it before, at least not willingly, but today she could sense that the creature wasn't even going to try to attack. Once she set the bowl down, she continued to gaze at it pityingly.
"There, there, now, dear," she murmured. "Everything's ok, it's all going to be alright…"
The Babadook took its meal, albeit reluctantly, and slurped it all down until nothing remained. Amelia smiled pleasantly.
"Thank you," she told it. Only silence followed her back out into the warm daylight.
ooo
Another time, the creature tried to escape its basement prison. First, it made a dash for the door as soon as Amelia unlocked it. Next, after she managed to keep it back, it tried to rush past her as soon as she bent over to slide the bowl of worms over. But once again, Amelia was too quick. After a couple more failed escape attempts, the Babadook tried one last time to physically attack Amelia. But just like before, she was able to fend it off. She didn't come out of the fight without a few cuts and slashes, but she was the clear winner.
"I know you want to leave," Amelia told the creature. "But you are not allowed to. You must stay here! And if you do try to leave, I will not be happy." Her tone was sharp. Even though her speech hadn't been intimidating, it worked, and the Babadook finally conceded to eat.
"Thank you," Amelia told it curtly, then once it was finished, she took the bowl back upstairs.
ooo
And this was Amelia's endless, tumultuous relationship with the creature that lurked beneath the floorboards. Some days it was passive, some days it was aggressive. Some days it would use anger and terror to attack, other times it would use guilt and grief. Some days it would wear Amelia down to a dangerous brink, some days it couldn't even come close to hurting her.
Some days, the Babadook's influence would make her wonder if continuing this endless fight was actually worth it, or if it might not be easier to just give up the ghost for good. The worms were a poor substitute for the meal it
actually
wanted. How long before it tried to ruin her life again? In only a month, it had already tried to attack her several times over. And if the Babadook was going to be a part of her life forever…
But other days, Amelia would remember that she could not give up now! No matter how her faith in life might wane, if she could hold out just long enough to see it begin to wax again, she would live to see another day, and she would be reminded that no matter hopeless it felt at any given moment, the despair would not last forever. For every down, there would always be an up. She just needed to live long enough to see it. No, it was not going to be an easy life, but it was not impossible.
So no matter what the Babadook threw at her, she might lose the battle, but she promised that she would never lose the war. She'd always get back up to see another day, no matter how far the creature managed to push her.
"Thank you," Amelia told the monster calmly as it finished its worms. Then she took the empty bowl and left the basement.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"So, how long have you two been together?" Aces asked.
"Together?" Iris echoed in confusion. "You mean like, how long have we known each other?"
"Oh, sure, I guess. I was just curious how long you two had been dating," Aces clarified.
Once Iris realized the misunderstanding, she began to laugh. "Oh, no, no. Clover and I never dated. We're platonic friends!"
"Wait, wh-what? But aren't you gay?" Aces sounded genuinely confused now.
"Uhh, well, I'm bi," Iris narrowed her eyes, growing just a little impatient with the interrogation. "And just because I'm attracted to girls doesn't mean I'm going to lust after every girl I meet! Or that any girl I'm seen
with
is automatically a lover!"
"Alright, Iris, deep breaths," Clover tried to bite back a laugh as she rested a hand on Iris' shoulder. Although she could understand, and agree with, Iris' frustration, the whole "doesn't mean I'm going to lust after every girl I meet!" amused Clover just because Iris
was
very prone to swooning over attractive women. But of course, Clover knew such an interjection wouldn't help right now. Instead, she focused on keeping Iris from lashing out. Aces was a friend, after all, and his question had been innocent.
"Right, sorry," Iris had the grace to look ashamed, quick to realize that Clover was right. Even though that question was a huge pet peeve of hers, Aces was a friend. He would never ask a question to intentionally hurt either of them.
"No, I'm sorry for assuming," Aces chuckled sheepishly.
"Nah, it's understandable," Clover shrugged. "We
do
act like a couple sometimes." And that much was just a simple fact. The two weren't just incredibly close, but they were also incredibly affectionate, and they spent a lot of time together. In public, it would be easy to mistake them for partners because of all the hugs and touches and words of adoration and admiration.
But there were several reasons why Iris felt stung by the assumptions. For one, it did feel a little weird and creepy that other people were observing her friendship with Clover closely enough to draw assumptions at all. But even bigger than that, it just felt disrespectful to the importance of platonic friends. Their world was so romance-crazed that there was an implicit implication that romantic and sexual love were the pinnacles of true love. But that was such a faulty, unhealthy way to look at love and relationships. Platonic friends were just as important as any lover! So Iris hated when people assumed that Clover
had
to be a lover just because, surely, Iris wouldn't love a mere platonic friend that intensely. What trash! Just because she and Clover weren't "going farther" didn't mean either of them loved the other any less.
And lastly, as a queer girl, Iris felt as though she was always being judged for having same-sex friends. If people had assumed that both she and Clover were straight, nobody would've batted an eye at their friendship. But
because
Iris was openly bisexual, people would always assume that every time she was caught with another female, it was probably a girlfriend, just as she'd chided Aces for earlier. So she always had to be so careful with female friends, both so that strangers wouldn't start judging them, and so that the female friend in question wouldn't assume Iris was only in it in hopes of scoring something.
That had indeed happened in the past. After Iris came out to another one of her female friends, that friend had immediately asked if Iris had a crush on her. Even though it was an understandable question, and the friend had genuinely only been curious, it still stung Iris to think that in the one second it took for her to come out as bisexual, her companion's perspective of her had instantly switched into wondering if Iris had only been her friend in hopes of one day going out with her.
And even with friends who had known that she was queer before they became friends, Iris had to be careful. She had to make sure she never said or did anything that might be taken as romantic, because she didn't want to have to open that can of worms with every platonic friend she had. So it wasn't even just judgement from strangers that she worried about. It was even judgement from her own friends, or potential friends.
As she'd once told Clover, "I always feel like I have to hide my affection for you in public, just because you and I are
not
a couple!"
"How funny to think that in order to make our relationship "socially acceptable", we would have to make it romantic," Clover agreed with a snicker. The irony that, in this case, it would be "more acceptable" to be "gay rather than straight" was not lost on either of them.
"But yeah, call it what you want to," Clover shrugged, addressing Aces again. "Iris is my best friend, that much I'm sure of. I like her for her, and I enjoy spending time with her because I enjoy spending time with her. It's got nothing to do with sexuality or gender. It's her personality, and all the history we've shared. We take care of each other, that's what matters. That is how and why I love her. I feel comfortable with her!"
"Yeah," Iris agreed, smiling fondly up at Clover. "I know how I love Clover, and even if it confounds an outside perspective, that's not what matters. It doesn't change the truth that I love her platonically, but she's one of the most important people in my life, because those two things are not mutually exclusive. Like she said, she's the one I feel safest with. She's my oldest friend as well as closest! And we just mesh really well!"
It was not necessary to say any of this, because Aces understood it all, but it was clear that Clover and Iris were still more than happy to reaffirm their friendship to one another. As they'd both said, no matter what the rest of the world might've assumed about them, that would not change their truth, so that's why they didn't care what conjectures people might come up with. Sure, the speculation could be tedious, but again, that wouldn't change the way they loved each other, and that was the important part.
"But also, I
am
pretty attractive, so I'm sure Iris is also happy that her friend is quite the looker!" Clover finally added.
"Oh my god," Iris rolled her eyes in exasperation, but she couldn't stop a laugh.
"Well, it sure is an added bonus," Aces agreed, laughing as well.
"I can't stand you," Iris continued to laugh and roll her eyes, nudging Clover.
"Love you too, buddy!" Clover smiled cheerfully. Then she addressed Aces again. "You see? This is why we're best friends!"
And neither he, nor Iris, could deny it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Hey! Let go!" Emily demanded, but Rowena held fast to her arm.
"No, not until I've proven to you how good I am!" Rowena insisted, eyes crazed.
"Look, I don't disbelieve you," Emily tried to back up, but Rowena had a shockingly tight grip for someone so thin. "But I'm not interested!"
"But I love you!" Rowena pleaded. "I've been in love with you for so long! So please! Just let me make you happy!"
For a moment, Emily was caught off guard by the confession. Relations of all kinds were common across the inmates, but because Emily didn't feel that close to Rowena, her confession had come as a shock to Emily.
"What does Veronica have that I don't!?" Rowena continued to press. "You say yes to
her
all the time!"
"Respect for personal space, for one," Emily replied, trying again to wrench her arm free. But Rowena did not seem to understand the concept of the word "no", and instead, she only tightened her grip around Emily even more.
"Oh come on! You know you love this!" she insisted as she began to kiss and lick Emily's neck the same way Veronica would. Only this time, Emily only felt fear and disgust. She continued to try to push Rowena away, but Rowena was heedless, holding Emily fast with one hand and ripping off her corset with another. God, her tongue felt so slimy and demanding! This was nothing like Veronica…
After long enough, Emily began to scream for help, but Rowena had been clever. Intentionally cornering Emily in a time and place where no other guards or inmates were around, there was nobody who could come save Emily from Rowena. She continued her kisses and caresses as she disrobed herself and Emily until they were both naked.
Once Rowena was finished, she left Emily lying on the cold hard ground.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked. "I told you I'd be good!" But Emily didn't reply. Rowena only shrugged.
Ah well, she'll probably come around once she gets some of her energy back…
the woman thought to herself. But it didn't happen. Long after Rowena had wandered away, Emily continued to lie there in total shock. The pain, both physical and mental, were much worse than she'd thought. She just felt so… dirty! But perhaps it was because, even though she'd been treated much worse by the doctors, the doctors were
supposed
to be the enemies while Rowena, well, she was supposed to have been a
friend…
The mere thought of that word tore a sob from Emily's throat. She'd been betrayed by a friend… It just felt so wrong and backward! Rowena was supposed to have been one of the people she could trust! It felt… insane! But then again, this was an asylum. Contrary to their names and mission statements, insane asylums didn't cure madness, they bred it. It festered and grew, spreading like a plague between doctors and inmates alike until no one was safe…
ooo
In the days to come, Emily made sure to minimize her time with Rowena as much as possible. She never went anywhere alone anymore. But it still took a while for her to tell anyone about what had happened. But the person she did finally talk to was a very dear friend of hers from outside the asylum. A photographer named Thompson.
"Come on, W14A!" It was Dr. Greavesly, one of the cruel surgeons of the asylum who took great pleasure in torturing and dissecting the patients, dead or alive. "That idiot, Thomas, is here to see you again!" He impatiently dragged Emily out of her cell and through the asylum.
As soon as Emily saw Thompson, she felt a wave of relief wash over her. Suddenly, all the cares of the world were gone and she felt like she was coming home, even though she was still very much trapped in the asylum. There was just something so gentle and kind about Thompson that it felt impossible to be sad or scared when he was near. He was one of Emily's most beloved friends and even just being in the same room as him took a bit of the burden off her shoulders after days of weighing her down.
The photography session went as well as usual, however, right before the very end of it, Thompson finally spoke up.
"I hate to intrude, but you've seemed a little… off… today. Is everything alright?"
And for a moment, Emily froze. It was funny, she didn't trust men. She didn't even trust some of her own fellow inmates! And yet here she was, seriously considering spilling her heart to Thompson.
"I promise I won't pry if it makes you uncomfortable, but if you need any help, or just a listening ear…"
And that was what finally got Emily to tell him everything. Here she was, telling him things she could barely admit to herself. But still, once she started speaking, she didn't stop until she'd recounted every little last detail of what happened between her and Rowena. She felt like a dam that had just burst open and would not close again until all the water, all the tears and secrets, were out.
"Oh, Emily, I am so sorry," Thompson's voice was full of genuine empathy as he listened,
genuinely listened, to Emily's tale. He opened his arms, but didn't do more than that, waiting for
Emily
to make the first move. How unlike Rowena… Emily swallowed nervously but she nodded and leaned into Thompson's hug. He closed his arms around her slowly, giving her time to back away, but she didn't. Even though a small part of her hated feeling him touch her, a larger part ached for his affection.
For a few minutes, they remained in that position, Emily simply clinging to Thompson like a drowning man to a rope while she whimpered and sniffled. He said nothing, simply allowing her to cry into his shoulder for as long as she needed. It was more than she could've ever asked for.
But alas, it could not last forever. Before long, Thompson was forced to depart.
"I'll come back as soon as I can!" he promised. "Do you think you'll be ok without me? Do you think you can stay strong until then?"
"That's all I've ever done," Emily muttered hollowly, but she nodded anyway. "And Thompson, thank you so much," she added, gentler now.
"No one should have to go through this," Thompson replied, packing up his camera. "And you stay away from that Rowena girl, ok?"
"I plan on it," Emily laughed brokenly. "I just can't believe she actually did it…"
"Whatever you do, don't blame yourself," Thompson pleaded. "You said no, and that was all you
could
do. She's the one who is at fault! Rape is
never
the victim's fault. And no matter how rough or gentle it was, it was assault all the same. Even if Rowena didn't have a knife at your throat, and even if she wasn't punching or kicking you, it was still assault! She's the one who betrayed you, not the other way around! And even if she didn't leave any physical scars, she left mental ones, and that's what makes her a monster!"
Thompson wasn't saying this to turn Emily against Rowena, but rather, to prevent the poor girl from thinking she was somehow at fault for what had happened. And it was a good thing, too, because even though Emily cognitively knew all the blame fell upon Rowena, she still couldn't help but feel personally that she hadn't been able to do more to protect herself. But as Thompson had pointed out, she shouldn't have had to protect herself at all because Rowena should've been the trustworthy friend she presented herself as. So truly, the only one to blame here was her.
It was hard watching Thompson leave, but his words stayed with Emily long after he'd departed, and with his words was his comfort. It was enough to help Emily feel some semblance of safety again. And it gave her the courage to eventually tell her other friends what had happened.
ooo
Several hours later, Emily was back in her cell for the night. She still hadn't told Veronica, but as Thompson had reassured her, there was no rush or pressure to tell anyone. Although talking about it with trusted friends and family was a good thing, she was under no obligation to do so, unless she wanted to. Which she did! She just needed to find the right opportunity…
But even though she hadn't had the strength to tell Veronica, she
had
told Captain Jolie Rogue. She knew that Jolie would understand. She would understand what it felt like to be hurt by someone she loved. Jolie's speech had been much the same as Thompson's, though more aggressive.
"Nobody is allowed to tell you what to do with your body
except yourself!" she insisted loudly.
"Shhh!" Emily pleaded, not wanting the entire floor to hear. This was still very private and personal.
"Ooops, sorry!" Jolie repeated, softer. "But like I was sayin', it's nobody's right but yer own to do stuff like that with your body. And Rowena's a right foul git for what she's done to ye!" Jolie shook her head. "No member of my pirate crew is allowed to harm a comrade! Tis mutiny!"
Emily smiled as Jolie continued to rant. She was so well-meant, even though she was a bit rough around the edges. But at last, she calmed down and opened her arms to Emily just like Thompson had. It was then that Emily understood why she liked Veronica, Jolie and Thompson so much more than the doctors or Rowena. Unlike the latter two, the former three always waited for consent. Whether it was verbal or not, they never did anything to/with Emily's body without getting her explicit permission first. The same could not be said of Rowena and the asylum doctors.
So there Emily lay, in the arms of her Captain. She decided that she would indeed tell Veronica, but not yet. She still needed a bit of time to think and rest. She'd told Thompson and Jolie and that was enough for now, even if neither of them could do too much to help. But they were going to try, and that was Emily could ever ask for. So while Emily slowly drifted off into the dreamworld, Jolie continued to hold her throughout the night, eyes wide open as she continued to keep careful watch over her beloved friend.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Whew!" Iris wiped her forehead. "It's hot out!"
"It's the middle of June, what do you expect?" Storm replied with a smirk.
"I know, but still! I'm dying here!" Iris pretended to swoon, and she even leaned backward as if to fall over, but when Storm did nothing more than raise an eyebrow, Iris straightened up again. "You're supposed to catch me when I swoon!" she complained.
"Ummm, no thanks," Storm snickered, and she still made no move to help Iris at all.
"Gee, thanks," Iris deadpanned, but before Storm could reply, a cold breeze swept over both of them.
"Oooh!" Iris shivered in pleasure. "Avalon is finally here!" And sure enough, they were. Dark red hair shining in the boiling sun, it was none other than Avalon Maddox themself!
"Your savior has arrived!" he joked, casting another brisk breeze over Iris and Storm.
"Ooooh!" Iris shivered in pleasure again and Avalon laughed.
"Would you two ladies care to join me at the Southern Sea?" they asked.
"Will the breeze be there?" Iris asked hopefully.
"Of course!" Avalon laughed and sent a third gust of icy wind. Then he turned his cerulean eyes on Storm. "You're both sweating up a
storm."
"Oh, ha, ha," Storm said sarcastically.
ooo
An hour later, Iris, Storm and Avalon were standing on the shore of the Southern Sea. Plenty of other familiar faces were there as well, everyone else trying to escape the heat just like Iris and Storm. Once they saw Avalon coming, they were quick to rush over excitedly and beg for some cooler weather, which Avalon was more than happy to provide.
"Sure hope it doesn't go to their head," Storm snickered as Avalon awed the crowd with their icy magic.
"Oh, let them have their fun!" Iris chuckled. "You can't deny that it's really handy this time of year!"
"That's true," Storm had to concede.
"Now, come on! Let's join them!" Iris said, looking eager as Avalon conjured up another little "snowstorm". Then, without waiting for Storm, the smaller woman darted forward towards the cool, sweet release of a nice winter wind. Storm watched her go with a scoff.
"Hey Iris!" Avalon waved with one hand while their other continued to control cool currents of air, much to everyone else's delight.
"You come to join the world's greatest AC?" Gale asked, arms wide as Avalon dusted him with ice and show.
"Heck yes!" Iris was quick to run to his side and mimic his posture. Tempest, who was also nearby, laughed at the sight.
"Is Storm with you?" she asked Iris as she continued to fan Avalon's cool breezes towards herself.
"Yep," Iris jerked her thumb over her shoulder. Sure enough, even Storm had finally caved and was walking over.
"Glad you could finally join us," Avalon smirked. Storm didn't have a rebuttal. Instead, she only narrowed her eyes, but she proceeded to stand right in the thick of Avalon's little summer snowstorm.
"I knew you couldn't resist!" Gale teased.
"Oh, shut up," Storm muttered, earning a laugh from Gale.
"Well, there's more than enough room for all!" Captain declared. He and Maxim had also taken the day off to go to the beach, and as soon as Avalon arrived onto the scene, Captain was quick to drag Maxim over to meet him.
"It was just boring having no one to talk to," Storm continued to try to defend herself.
"I thought you didn't like other people," Iris teased.
"Well, I like
you," Storm replied shortly, and Iris's smirk quickly changed into a genuinely touched look.
"Awww," she smiled sweetly up at the taller woman. "I love you too!"
"Ha, GAAAAAAAY!" Avalon joked.
"Heck yeah!" Iris smiled at them while Storm gave them another deadpanning expression. At the same time, Captain raised his fist to agree with Avalon while Maxim rolled his eyes.
ooo
After everyone had been suitably cooled down, they all made their way to the sea.
"Now, onto the main event!" Storm sighed as she waded into the water.
"Hey! I thought
I
was the main event!" Avalon pretended to look hurt as they followed Storm.
"Oh please!" Storm rolled her eyes. "You invited us to the Southern Sea, not to your little winter display!"
"But let's be real, that's the only reason everyone came out to the beach at all," Avalon snickered, and even though that wasn't completely true (since Captain and Maxim had already been at the beach), it was
mostly
true, as everyone else had been eager to get to the beach once they heard Avalon was going to be in attendance. Including Iris and Storm.
"Heheh, you got me there," Iris grinned sheepishly.
"Well, I can't blame you, no one is immune to
my
charm!" Avalon puffed out their chest.
"Well, either way, it's swim time," Storm quickly dove headfirst into the waves.
"Sheesh! Killjoy!" Avalon muttered, but they were laughing.
"That's our Storm!" Captain agreed jovially.
The group, along with many others, spent the rest of the day ducking and diving with the waves, relieved to be out of the scorching summer heat. Avalon also performed a few more tricks for other, late arrivals, and they even managed to freeze a tiny part of the sea to create a little ice platform for people to jump off of. Summer was a lot more fun when you had a Gifted on your side, especially if they could create ice and snow.
"Cannonball!" they cried as they dove off their little ice platform, and the others were more than happy to follow after.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"So, uhhh, Harry?" Seamus Finnigan walked over to his fellow Gryffindor with a swagger in his step and a smirk on his face.
"Hmm?" Harry looked up from the painfully long and boring potions essay he was writing to write while eating lunch. The moment he caught sight of Seamus' smirk, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you smiling at me like that?"
"Ah, no reason," Seamus shrugged. "Just… polite conversation with a classmate."
"Well, if that isn't the biggest lie I've ever heard," Harry replied sarcastically.
"Ok, you got me there," Seamus raised his arms in playful surrender. "I just came over here to ask you, because Dean wanted to know-"
"No I didn't!" another young wizard interrupted, hopping up from his seat at the long table.
"Sure you did!" Seamus grinned wolfishly at him, too. Dean continued to protest, but Harry interrupted them both.
"Wanted to know what?" he demanded. He didn't mean to sound so cross, but with this essay being as long and confusing as it was, he really didn't need to be distracted by other students at the moment. He was busy! Couldn't they see that?
"Dean wanted to know if you were gay!" Seamus replied, having to shout a little because of Dean begging him not to say anything. The moment Seamus finished asking, however, Dean groaned and hid his face in his hands. Harry, meanwhile, was stunned into silence.
"What?" he asked, once the ability to speak finally returned to him.
"Dean wanted to know if you were gay," Seamus repeated, looking totally nonchalant despite how private the question was.
"No I didn't," Dean tried again, but much softer since the question had already been asked.
"What in Merlin's beard ever gave you that idea?" Harry answered the question with another question.
"Well, you seemed to have been quite fixated on Mr. Malfoy all year and Dean and I couldn't help but notice…" Seamus trailed off, still smirking.
"What! Merlin, no!" Harry hissed in disgust. "Draco and I? Are you mental?"
"No, just observant," Seamus shrugged with a cheeky smile. "I mean, you've been staring after him and talking about him all the bloody time!"
"What? No! Are you mental?" Harry repeated. "That's disgusting!"
"Wait, what is?" Dean finally spoke up, a defensive light entering his eyes. "You and Draco, or the idea of two guys?" The playful atmosphere turned dark and Harry could tell that he was approaching a sensitive topic.
"Me and Draco, I mean," Harry said quickly. "Blimey, I'd be fine if it were Ron!" he added as a joke, but then Dean's face lit up.
"TOLD YOU!" he bragged to Seamus, hostility gone just like that.
"Told him what?" Harry frowned. Just what in Merlin's beard was going on?
"That you would totally do it with Ron," Dean explained. Harry inwardly cringed at the idea while Seamus pretended to grumble angrily. Truth be told, Harry was fairly sure he was straight. His sexuality wasn't something he'd thought much about. But to have Seamus and Dean both coming up to him now, demanding to know if he was gay, did make him wonder. This 'polite conversation' was taking a very weird turn…
"Look, I don't know what exactly you guys are getting onto," Harry said finally. "But I'm fairly sure I am not gay."
"Suuuure," Dean and Seamus both gave Harry disbelieving looks.
"Look. I have a potions essay to write. If would be so kind as to either help me or leave, that would be much appreciated!" Harry insisted.
"Is something the matter here?" a new voice entered the conversation.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Respect instantly entered all three of the boys' voices as their headmaster walked over.
"Yes, hello. It is a lovely day, is it not?" he asked serenely as he approached the trio.
"Yes, sir," the three replied.
"Then please, tell me, is anything the matter?" he asked gently.
"No, just having some polite conversation," Seamus answered for himself and the other two.
"Is that so?" Dumbledore asked, raising a white eyebrow as he looked at Harry and Dean. The two only nodded, not daring to speak. "Well, that is good, for it is among the most pleasant and idle of conversations that the closest of friendships begin to bloom!" he sighed dreamily.
"Isn't it, sir?" Seamus agreed, then Dumbledore took leave of the three wizards, but not before catching Harry's eye, his own twinkling knowingly. It was a look that said that perhaps queer wizards were not as rare as they seemed…
"See, Dumbledore knows," Dean said mysteriously as the headmaster walked away again.
"Nah, I'd bet he would agree with me!" Seamus insisted.
"Yeah right!" Dean play-punched Seamus' arm and Harry could only stare up at them, completely baffled. He even looked around to see if anyone else was hearing any of this craziness, but the only person who caught his eye was McGonagall, and she had the same knowing look that Dumbledore had given Harry just a moment ago.
Harry shook his head again and, while Dean and Seamus continued to muse on whether Harry would be more likely to snog Ron or Draco, several clouds passed by and uncovered the sun. The moment the bright light streamed through the windows of the Great Hall, several rainbows spread themselves across the floor.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Spirited little things, aren't they?" Lester smiled as Iris and Clover ran off towards the Pride Parade's main fairgrounds.
"Just like when they were little," Rusty agreed, a nostalgic smile spreading across his face. "I can only hope that they stay safe…" It felt like only yesterday, he was rocking Clover in his arms and feeding her from a bottle. Now, she was running around the fairgrounds… unsupervised. Yes, Iris was with her, but that didn't really count, per se…
"Don't worry, love," Diane was quick to comfort her husband. "They're adults now, I'm sure they can handle themselves."
"I know, I know," Rusty promised. "I just worry…"
"Don't we all?" Mae chuckled. Although she didn't worry nearly as much as Rusty did, because no one out-worried Rusty, Mae was certainly familiar with all the heart attacks a child could give a parent.
In fact, Mae had even suffered a minor one at the start of the Pride Parade earlier that morning. A few religious zealots had been at the gates, already protesting the event. Knowing how sensitive Iris was to that sort of thing, Mae had worried that seeing the protestors would upset her. But contrary to her fears, Iris only gave them all a disdainful look before walking right through the gates with her head held high.
But even though Mae's concerns surrounding Iris were assuaged, just seeing the protestors reminded her of how many people weren't as confident as Iris. How many queer children still hid in the closet out of fear? How many were unable to come out because their families wouldn't be accepting? How many had run away or taken their own lives out of the sheer helplessness of it all? It was enough to activate Mae's parental worry all over again. She could never understand the mind of a parent who would cast their child out just because that child was queer. And Mae lived in fear of the day Iris might run into one of these monsters…
And Mae knew that these were fears Rusty shared with her. It was why he was worrying. As safe as pride events usually were, there was always the threat of someone homophobic sneaking into the grounds to cause trouble. But the problem didn't always come from the outside. Rusty could still remember, with hideous clarity, the night he and Clover had gone to a queer film festival only for some girl to try groping Clover halfway through one of the movies. So Rusty was always worried that Clover would run into another creep, queer or not. Rusty had physically thrown the other girl off her daughter. Despite having the same lanky build Clover did, in moments of protective rage, he was very strong indeed. It got him kicked out of the movie theater, but he had zero regrets.
But Mae and Rusty weren't the only ones worrying. Diane and Lester, relaxed as they seemed, also feared for their daughters. Diane knew about Clover's run-in at the film festival, so she knew that even other queer people could pose a threat. And there had been one night when Iris had suffered a minor anxiety attack while having a sleepover with Clover.
A nightmare had sent her from the bedroom to the kitchen, wanting a midnight snack to calm her nerves. Diane had heard her moving through the kitchen and come to comfort her. After a bit of coaxing, Iris confessed that, in the past, the religious zealots had gotten into her head and left her in doubt about her sexuality. Even though those days were over, the memories lingered, and that was what Diane feared. Harm could last long after the initial event was over.
And Lester understood all of this as well, his own fears on a slightly larger scale. As he watched Iris and Clover run across the fairgrounds, he heaved a sad, tired sigh. Sure, he worried about animosity from other people, queer or not. And he knew how dangerous self-doubt could be, and how bigoted remarks could fester in the brains of their victims, but his biggest concern was society as a whole. Things were getting better, yes, but there was still a lot of work left to do. Even if these parades were a safe space for queer people, what happened once it was time to go home? What happened when June ended? They would be forced back into the "normal" world, and issues like marriage equality were just the tip of the iceberg.
He worried that Iris and Clover would suffer in the future because of their identity as queer people. What if they couldn't find jobs or homes? What if they were ostracized or attacked? What if they were mocked, slandered, threatened or ignored? There were still far too many reports of violence, disownment, suicide, job loss and ruined reputation for Lester to
not
worry. So long as any form of bigotry or discrimination existed, he was going to keep worrying for Iris and Clover. That's just how parents operated.
While Iris and Clover spent the entire day running around the fair, laughing and partying as they made new friends all over the place, their parents stayed behind and worried. It was not all-consuming, but it still was all too real. They all wanted the same thing! They just wanted their children (and everyone else's children) to have happy, healthy, safe, successful lives. No parent ever wanted to see their child in danger!
But at the same time, not a single one of the four would've changed Clover or Iris for anything in the entire world. They were all more than happy to support their children, queer or not, and they wouldn't have done a single thing differently even if they were presented with the chance. Yes, life was hard and scary and dangerous, but they still didn't regret the way either girl had turned out. And, as parents, they'd accepted long ago that, if it became necessary, they would fight with their lives to protect their children's.
That didn't mean they were going to literally engage in battle, or sacrifice their lives for their children's, but they would all gladly spend the rest of their lives pushing for equality if it gave Iris and Clover even a tiny chance at living a slightly better life than before. It was an honor and pleasure both, in all their eyes, to protect and help their children in any way they could, even if it was as simple as listening to them talk or helping them run a pride booth. Support was important and always mattered, even if it was given in small, simple ways.
"Don't worry," Diane repeated, speaking to all of them. "They'll be just fine."
"Yeah, I know they will," Mae gave her a smile. "I believe in them."
"Yeah, they're big girls now, and we'll do our best to help them however we can," Lester agreed encouragingly. The other three were quick to agree, and eventually, even Rusty looked a little bit more at peace. Yeah, he was still going to worry every single day of his life, but with Mae, Lester and Diane at his side, he'd be able to keep his head just a little bit easier. And like Lester had said, they would do their best to help Iris and Clover so that even if things weren't perfect, they still weren't powerless, and they never ever would be!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Girl, we gotta get you some actin' classes or somethin', 'cause this thang just ain't workin' out right!" Mushu chastised his human friend. It was sheer luck alone that none of the other soldiers in General Shang's army had discovered that she was a woman yet. Already, Mulan had nearly given herself away
twice
with her "stupid girly habits!" and it wasn't even noon!
"I know, Mushu, and I'm trying! But what do you want me to do?" Mulan whispered desperately to the little red dragon hiding in her armor.
"I don't know, but we gotta do something fast because this just ain't working out right!" Mushu repeated, scratching his chin, lost in thought.
Mulan sighed heavily. As obnoxious as she found Mushu and his criticisms, she couldn't deny that he was right. They really did need to come up with something before Mulan's cover was blown. Mulan had only been here for a couple weeks and, already, she'd nearly been caught about 17 times (plus two by the general himself)! And, to top it off, Mulan was certain that some of the more intelligent soldiers were finally starting to catch onto her. There had to be at least a few guys in this large company that realized that Ping wasn't all he seemed to be.
"Ok, that's it! Starting tonight, I'm gonna be your new acting coach!" Mushu decided.
"You?" Mulan nearly snorted. What did this noodle of a dragon know about acting classes?
"That's right!" Mushu missed Mulan's sarcasm in a fit of grandiose. "Tonight, as soon as all the other soldiers are in bed, you and me are gonna go out to the far corner of the camp and I'm gonna teach you how to be a man! And we gonna drill harder than you ever thought possible. I'm gonna be giving you tests and exams like you don't even know! Why, it'll be enough to put old General I'm-A-Big-Strong-Scary-Tough-Guy to shame!"
"I, uhhh, don't think that's such a good idea," Mulan murmured as Mushu gushed. "What if we get caught out of bed?"
"Well do you wanna get caught for being a girly-girl instead? Because that's where your headed now!" Mushu reminded Mulan.
"Point taken," Mulan winced. Sadly, the acting classes didn't go nearly as well as Mulan had hoped. Sure, the things Mushu taught Mulan were easy enough. They were all things like speaking low, walking with a heavy tread, being loud, rude and obnoxious, never apologizing and always bellowing, laughing as long and loud as possible at stupid or dirty jokes, eating and smelling like a fat pig, spending every single second trying to be tough, waving a sword around like an idiot, talking about pretty girls and drooling over the thought of them, etc. It was all standard stuff, but for some reason, it just didn't seem to be working out.
"They also don't wipe up their bodily fluids!" Mushu told Mulan as she strutted around, waving her sword high in the air like a flag. "Oh, man, you gotta get all up in there in that stuff! Ain't no proper cleaning and pedicures for you no more!" Mushu cackled.
"Gross," Mulan was cringing hard, but she continued to try and do everything exactly as Mushu had said. She stomped when she walked, she swung her arms and puffed out her chest, she kept her eyes focused and narrowed, she kept a cocky kind of smirk on at all times, etc. And when she practiced speaking, she brought her voice down and made sure to be gruff and concise. She barked greetings and farewells and made sure she always sounded confident, even when she wasn't. For a moment, she thought she was doing really well…
"Oooh, you know what? Maybe we need to start having daytime acting classes too," Mushu muttered as he watched Mulan strut.
"What?" Mulan's voice accidently returned to its normal, higher octave when she heard this.
"I mean, you just kinda…uhhh…" Mushu scratched the back of his neck, cringing horribly as he tried to break it to Mulan that she made the world's worst man. He finally turned to Mulan's other, smaller, nonhuman companion: Cri-Kee. "Cri-Kee, my man, do you know how to explain this?"
"Uh-uh," Cri-Kee squeaked back. He had been watching Mulan for the past hour, practicing her 'manly routines' and he had to say, for once, he actually agreed with Mushu. Mulan just wasn't cut out for being a man. Unlike Mushu, however, Cri-Kee felt a deep sympathy for Mulan.
Where Mushu seemed bent on whipping Mulan into shape, Cri-Kee just wished that the girl could've been allowed to be herself. Why was it that a man was the only one allowed to serve? From what Cri-Kee had seen, none of the men were much better than Mulan, so why was it such a scandal if there was a woman in the army? Why couldn't Mulan be allowed to be feminine and like girly things while also serving in the military? Maybe he just had a tiny brain, being a cricket and all, but Cri-Kee didn't understand why these acting classes should have to happen at all.
"Oh, come on, Mushu!" Mulan sighed in exasperation, finally sitting down. "We've been at this for an hour and made no progress!"
"Oh, don't say that!" Mushu tried to encourage, but the moment Mulan met his eyes, he agreed. "Ok, yeah, never mind, you right, you still ain't no good at any of this stuff," he said. Mulan gave another heavy, hopeless sigh.
"I just wish I didn't have to do all this!" she confessed. She threw her sword down. "I mean, I understand why, but really! Why do I have to be so… mannish? Why can't I just be me? Why can't I just be a girl?"
"Because ain't no self-respecting army gonna have no woman in its ranks!" Mushu snorted. "It would be a dishonor on all of China! It would be a dishonor on the general, a dishonor on the emperor, a dishonor on the other soldiers, and a dishonor on all their cows!" he cried. Mulan glared at him, but once again, she knew he was right. She buried her head in her hands.
"This is hopeless!" she despaired. "Nothing I've done feels right! Acting like a man just doesn't feel natural to me. I mean, it's weird enough having to go by a different name and pronouns, but this? To have to actually play a part I wasn't born to be in?" she stopped to shake her head. "I don't know what to do," she said. "Do we have any other ideas?" she turned to Mushu and Cri-Kee, but neither of them had a clue.
It was then that Mushu called an early end to the acting classes.
"Night isn't a very good time for acting classes anyway," he said, trying to soothe his ego. Cri-Kee made a noise of distaste. "Oh, whatchu sayin' about my acting and teaching skills?" the dragon snapped. Cri-Kee chirped again and Mushu gasped, deeply offended. "Oh, no you didn't!"
Mulan, who had to carry these two clowns back to their tent, only sighed. Although the acting classes had been a total failure, there was still a part of her that desperately wanted to be here. She didn't just want to be in the army to protect her father anymore. She wanted to be here just because she wanted to be here. She wanted to fight and help out! She wanted to help save her country! But if being a soldier was her dream now, she was going to have to start acting like one, classes or not.
At last, the awkward little trio was nestled up in bed. Mulan stayed awake for a bit longer, thinking on all that Mushu had taught her. Even if all of it was 100% wrong (seriously, how would a little red dragon that used to be a stone statue in her family temple know anything about being a man?), he still had a valid point that she had to keep trying, so she would. With new determination, Mulan rolled over and shut her eyes. She would always be a woman at heart, but a woman was strong and determined. She would use that girl power to pull through, as paradoxical as that sounded. She would survive her time in the army and she would be a man!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Alright, come on, come on, come on! Shhh!" Iris whispered, urging her friends over with a quick wave. Today, they were going on a dangerous mission, one which not all of them might escape alive, but it was imperative that they try. This mission, dangerous as it was, was an obligation to friends. It was a quest for freedom! Even if only for a little while…
"We gotta make this quick, and we gotta make this quiet!" Iris murmured as soon as her companions were with her. She brought the three of them into a huddle with her and she began to whisper instructions. "Storm, you just wait in the car for us and be ready to take off as soon as we're ready. I'm going to play the innocent one and distract our quarries. Clover and Aces, you guys have the most dangerous and imperative task of all…"
The purple-eyed girl trailed off to keep them in suspense, but Aces couldn't wait any longer.
"We get to break them out!" he cried excitedly.
"Shh! Not so loud!" Iris warned, though there was no one around to hear them. And, if anything, calling the huddle made them look more suspicious than if Aces had shouted their entire plan.
"Ooops," Aces played along, covering his mouth. Storm, meanwhile, rolled her eyes in disdain, thinking the whole thing was a bit of an overkill. But at the same time, she agreed that the mission was important. It was the only reason she'd allowed herself to get suckered into it at all. Had she not thought it important enough, she would've just stayed home and let Iris deal with it.
"And if we get caught?" Clover asked, blue eyes shining excitedly.
"Then we run like heck! We scatter in all directions and Storm will drive around and pick us up at the next block!" Iris answered with equal verve. "We'll be like thieves in the night! Breaking in and whisking away our imprisoned friends before vanishing like we were never there! And if any of us is caught? Well, then we will still carry on, gladly throwing life and limb to the wind! We will honor whoever falls by finishing the mission regardless of who gets out alive and who does not!"
"We won't leave a single trace behind," Aces agreed solemnly. "And we will finish this quest no matter the cost to us!"
"Ok, does the mission have to be this complicated?" Storm finally interrupted, rolling her eyes. "All we're doing is giving some of our… less than fortunate friends a lift to the pride parade! It's not like any of us are going to die picking them up."
"Of course it does!" Clover answered passionately. "We are fighting for our comrades' freedom!"
"Yeah, but there are so many easier, faster ways to do that," Storm countered. "All this 'give me liBigbyy or give me death' crap is a bit over the top."
"Nonsense!" Iris smacked the blond's arm lightly. "Vive la révolution!" she cried, and Aces and Clover echoed the battle cry.
"Good grief," Storm sighed, shaking her head.
ooo
"Alright, commence part one of "Operation: Liberation Gets Bold Today"!" Iris muttered as she, in the shotgun seat, scoped out the first house on their list. The list, as Storm had mentioned earlier, contained the names of everyone who wanted to go to Pride but were unable to due to unaccepting families. But Iris was having none of that. Today, she and her three friends were going to go from house to house and rescue each and every person from their bigoted families and take them all to Pride!
Normally, Iris believed in listening to parents, but when it came to things like Pride, she was willing to bend and break rules if helped closeted people escape bigoted families, even if it was only just for one day. Alongside abuse cases, it was one of the rare times Iris would advocate against obeying parents. Iris was honestly willing to go as far as breaking in to rescue her friends, she'd meant
that
quite literally. Sure, it was illegal, but in her opinion, it still wasn't worse than trying to suppress a child's gender or sexuality just because it wasn't "normal".
"Wait, "Liberation Gets Bold Today"?" Storm snorted as she drove up to the first house. "What's with the fancy terms?"
"Take the first letters of the operation and say them out loud," Iris replied. LGBT.
"Stupid pun," Storm rolled her eyes.
"Well, I wanted it to be symbolic!" Iris whined. Storm chuckled dryly. Iris was too much sometimes, but she loved the girl dearly.
"Ah! Here we are! Pull over!" Clover waved suddenly. She was navigating. Storm obeyed, parking on the curb.
"Ok, you all know what to do, right?" Iris whispered eagerly as she unbuckled her seatbelt.
"Yes!" Aces and Clover chorused, getting hyped up again. Iris turned to the one person who hadn't said anything.
"Ok, fine, whatever," Storm sighed. "Just go before someone asks what we're doing!" She unlocked the doors and her three passengers shot out of the van faster than a bullet from a gun. Despite herself, Storm laughed. The three were foolish and immature, but they had good intentions. And admittedly, Storm did support their cause.
"Knock, knock!" Iris sang as she pounded on the door. The first people to answer were a middle-aged couple.
"Hello, who is it?" they asked.
"Iris Long! A friend of Hathaway, from school! I was wondering if we could hang out?" Iris put on her best puppy-dog eyes. She knew full well that these people didn't approve of her because she was a 'radical homosexual', but she wasn't asking to hang out with Hathaway because she thought they would agree. She was asking so that Aces and Clover had time to sneak around the back and help Hathaway climb out of their bedroom window and sneak down and out.
"Oh. You." Hathaway's parents crinkled their noses at Iris.
"Yup!" Iris answered cheerfully, still grinning up at them.
"Listen, we'd love to have you over, but Hathaway is busy right now, so maybe you should come back another time," Hathaway's father spoke first, his tone very unwelcome and unfriendly.
"Awwww, ok…" Iris pretended to heave a sad sigh. "Well, thank you for your time, anyway."
"Hmm…" Hathaway's father narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but Iris didn't care. Every second he lingered, the more time Hathaway had to flee.
But, not too much later, Iris heard a honk. That was the signal meaning that Hathaway had successfully snuck out.
"Oh! That's my ride! Guess I should go!" she said, sprinting off the porch without another moment of hesitation. Hathaway's parents watched her go, frowning in disapproval, but they were more than happy to shut the door on Iris and get back to their lives, far away from her.
"Thanks, guys!" Hathaway sounded relieved. Today, an armband with the male gender sign was upon Hathaway's wrist.
"No problem," Clover, Aces and Iris all replied. "We're glad you could make it!"
"There are suits for you in the way back," Storm added.
"Really?" Hathaway's face lit up like the sun and Storm nodded. "Oh, thank you all so much!" He looked close to tears, but that was because he'd been feeling like a man all week, but his parents, of course, forced him to continue to present as a girl.
While Hathaway clambered into the way back, where suits and boyish clothes did indeed wait for him, Iris checked the next name.
"Ellie Drake," she said. Ah, poor Ellie… She was rather young, a few years younger than Iris! But she was already in the process of transitioning. It was just a shame that her parents weren't supportive. They weren't quite as antagonistic as Hathaway's, but they weren't very pleased to watch their son turn into a daughter. It was not what they had given birth to, so, in their eyes, it was wrong. And they'd also argued that Ellie was just too young to know! But the way Iris saw it, none of that mattered. Nobody ever asked a cis person how they knew they were cis, so why do it to trans people?
"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Drake!" Iris greeted Ellie's parents innocently.
"Hello?" Neither of them recognized her.
"I'm Iris Long! I'm one of the peer tutors for… Elias." Iris felt guilty using Ellie's deadname, but it was necessary in this case.
"Ah! What's up?" the Drakes greeted Iris warmly.
"I was wondering if…
he
wanted to hang out. Grab some lunch?" Iris put on her sweet face again. This time, unlike with Hathaway, the Drakes agreed quickly. This meant Aces and Clover didn't even have to try and find Ellie's window to rescue her. Instead, they exited the premises at once while the Drakes went to go find their kiddo.
"Hey, Ellie!" Hathaway greeted as soon as Ellie was in the van with the rest of them.
"Hathaway! I didn't know you were coming!"
"Of course! These guys even got me the right clothing!" he plucked at his suit, having covered it in rainbow stickers just to customize it.
"And we got
you
dresses," Iris agreed, looking at Ellie.
"Or you can use mine!" Hathaway offered, gesturing to the pile of clothing tossed casually in the back of the car.
"Oh! Goodie!" Now it was Ellie's turn to don her Pride gear.
The third person on the list was Princeton Cross. He, like Ellie, was trans, and fairly young. But unlike Ellie, he was lucky enough to have a very supportive family. The only reason he was on the list was because his fathers were out of town, and his sisters had other engagements. This meant he needed a lift. But because he didn't need liberation, when Iris reached his house, he was chilling on the porch.
"Hey guys!" he grinned as he vaulted into the van.
"Hi Princeton," everyone else replied.
"That was easy," Aces joked as Storm pulled out of his driveway and onto the fourth person of the list: Avalon. Their family was actually fairly queer friendly, but they weren't too keen on their child being nonbinary. They were ok with trans if it followed the binary, but as soon as any other gender was mentioned, they'd scoff and insist the youth of today were just making up genders at random.
"Hello!" Iris smiled cheerfully as Avalon's parents answered the door.
"Hey, Iris!" they smiled, very friendly with her. "What brings you here?"
"I was just wondering if Avalon could hang out today?" she asked.
"Ah, well, Avalon is actually busy today," Avalon's mother answered. But from the way she was suddenly unable to meet Iris' eyes, Iris had the sinking feeling that this was nothing but a lie. Probably, they already assumed Iris wanted to take Avalon to Pride, and the reason they didn't want that to happen was because they didn't want Avalon to steep themself deeper into the whole "nonbinary nonsense", as they called it.
"Ah, well, that's ok!" Iris shrugged cheerfully. "We can always hang out some other time! But I hope you've been well?" By engaging in small chatter, Iris kept Avalon's folks distracted just long enough for Clover and Aces to do their thing!
"I can't believe you guys actually came!" Avalon laughed in delight as Clover and Aces tossed a grappling hook up to them. They hooked it tight on the windowsill and slid down from their bedroom to the backyard. Once they were on the ground, they flicked their wrist and unhooked the rope.
"Time to roll out! Go! Go! Go!" Aces whispered. Then, with Clover in the lead, the other two sprinted from the yard and climbed over several fences to reach the street corner where Storm was waiting.
"Let's GOOO!" Avalon cheered as they crawled into the van. "Oh! Hi Ellie! Nice dress! Where'd you get it?"
"Thanks," Ellie grinned, flattered. "And Iris got it for me, actually!"
"We got more Pride gear in the back," Iris agreed as she returned to the van as well, feeling only slightly guilty about duping Avalon's kind parents.
"Oooh heck yes!" Avalon dove into the backseat immediately.
There were a few more people on Iris' "Liberation Gets Bold Today" list and, with each of them, she would distract the parents while Clover and Aces would help their kids climb out of their windows and then over, through or around fences while Storm would pick everyone up. In the van, clothes were swapped and binders and flags were handed out. Makeup, pins, jewelry and other bling also got distributed. Soon, the van was alive with laughter and music. It was a hot, sweaty, crowded ride over, but it was
so
worth it!
ooo
"And here we are!" Storm sighed in relief, parking her van and being the first one out of it.
"Woo hoo! "Operation: Liberation Gets Bold Today" was a success and we all survived!" Iris cheered, the next one out of the van. Everyone else echoed her cry and raised their flags as they clambered out of the van, one by one.
"But we
do
have to get everyone cleaned up and home at a decent time," Storm reminded all of them.
"Oh, right," Iris wilted and everyone else also looked concerned. But Storm's grim expression quickly changed into a smile.
"Well, there
is
a middle phase to "Operation: Liberation Gets Bold Today" that we forgot," she said.
"Oh?" Iris was genuinely surprised.
"Having fun at Pride, of course!" Storm grinned, gesturing to the fairgrounds waiting up ahead. Spirits bolstered once more, flags were raised as the gaggle of friends raced towards the gates.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Grantaire might've been an insatiable drunk, but he was still a Parisian student. Because of that, although it was seldom that his head
wasn't
in a bottle or a gutter, he did still remember a few of the lessons his fancy education had given him. One in particular was about the Greek gods. And although the Greek gods were numerous, a certain few did stick out to Grantaire. They were the only few he'd talk about with something akin to faith in his voice. But why? Why would the skeptic who refused to believe even in the Christian God, or just about anything else in life, believe in a handful of Greek deities? Well, in
his
mind, those gods were real, and walked among him every single day. The Greek pantheon was real! It just went under a different name: The Friends of the ABC, the French Pantheon.
Their little room over the tavern was their Olympus, and the seats at the tables were their thrones! Each student was a god, one of the pantheon and a vital piece of the puzzle. Even Grantaire saw himself as such. Here, every god had a place and purpose, and was necessary to keep their Olympus from falling. And, as he watched these gods in mortal coils sitting on creaky wooden thrones over Paris, judging her, he could name every single god at the meeting.
First, there was the happy-go-lucky student of medicine, Joly.
Next, there was the unattached and unknowable Marius, restless and angry and tumultuous.
Then, there was the wild and free spirit named Gavroche, who feared and bowed to nothing except himself.
Next was the heart of the group, the one who kept the Friends together and brought fresh blood in. Courfeyrac.
Then there was Feuilly, the orphan who had adopted the world as his own and was the nurturer of the group.
Next was the innocent Jean Prouvaire, loved by all, and as sweet as could be, so childish and pure despite being the same age as everyone else.
Then there was the loud-mouthed, large-hearted, free-spirited Bahorel, traveling between the Friends and various other groups around Paris. He was an excellent conduit for communication and comedy.
Then came Bossuet, who preferred the name Lesgle, and was as unlucky as could be. Only his smile and his humors never failed him.
Next was Combeferre, wise and calm. Him, the second in command and the diplomat of the group, slow to anger and quick to intellectual debate.
And as for the first in command… Enjolras. Enjolras, Enjolras, Enjolras…
Despite the drunken haze clouding his mind, Grantaire studied the handsome fellow closely. There were a few differences between the Greek pantheon and this French one. The first was that not every single god matched up perfectly with a student. For example, the above stood as Apollo, Poseidon, Pan, Hestia, Demeter, Artemis, Hermes, Hephaestus and Athena. And of course, Grantaire was Dionysus. So the pantheon was still missing Zeus, Hades, Hera, Aphrodite and Ares.
Now, one would immediately assume that Enjolras would be Zeus. But Grantaire never saw it that way. For one, Zeus was infamous for having many, many, many, many, many affairs. Enjolras, meanwhile, was very vocal about his choice to remain celibate. Rumor said he'd never even
held a woman's hand
before, let alone gone further than that. As for Hades? Well, as serious, intimidating and gloomy as Enjolras was, his words spoke of new life, not of death or finality. And he was no Hera because, although he was a leader, he had no interest in marriage. This was also why he could not be Aphrodite. But perhaps… Ares?
In Grantaire's hazy head, watching Enjolras speak of revolution, war and freedom, always felt far more Ares than Zeus. Zeus already had total control over his world. Enjolras did not. He was still fighting for it, and fighting was what Ares did best as the God of War. Like Ares, Enjolras was aggressive, fierce, powerful, intimidating, commanding and bent on victory in combat. How many days had he spoken of battle? How many nights had he spent pouring over plans and maps? How many people had he tried to enlist and how many arms had he stolen or built? Enjolras was no Zeus, he was Ares! He was a warrior, his colors were red and black! He was no Zeus.
Even now, as Grantaire watched the beautiful young man speak passionately about the future, Ares seemed to stand right behind him, encouraging him and aiding in his war plans. Enjolras, like a general, led the troops and built the barricades. He was a God of War.
"If only," the drunkard slurred to himself. "If only the God of War would have use for the God of Wine…" He paused to take another large swig. "If only handsome and mighty Ares would look upon twisted and ugly Dionysus with need or affection. Then perhaps he could be happy…" Although to which "he" Grantaire was referring to was unclear, even to him. But what
was
clear was how much he adored and revered Enjolras.
Truly, in the way a worshipper would honor and serve their god, that was how Grantaire felt about Enjolras. He idolized Enjolras. Enjolras was his Ares, his white knight. He was the perfect mix of everything Grantaire wanted to have and wanted to be. He was strong, brave, proud, calm, forward, charming, commanding, beautiful, powerful, determined, faithful, dutiful and moral.
Grantaire was a dirty mess, a wad of scum in the sewers, compared to Enjolras. This thought grieved the drunkard to no end. It was part of the reason he drank. Along with his general enjoyment of alcohol, Grantaire realized that if he drank enough to put himself to sleep, his Ares would almost always show up in his dreams, and that was absolutely worth the hangover next time his eyes opened to see his Ares just as unbothered and disgusted by him as ever before.
"What a statue!" Grantaire mumbled, scoring Enjolras' almost heartless attention and praising his sculptured features in one fell swoop. He held so much raw, masculine beauty! A perfect jaw, a sharp and beautiful eye, gorgeous golden locks that looked thick and soft as the finest silk. His skin was pale and unblemished. He had muscles and an upright back. Enjolras really did look like a Greek god, especially in his fiery speeches. It took Grantaire's breath away and made him all the more ashamed when he looked in the mirror at his own palked and ugly face, sullen and empty.
Unlike Enjolras, Grantaire had no purpose. It was part of the reason Grantaire admired and adored Enjolras so much. Enjolras had so much fire and ambition and determination that it lit up Grantaire's cold and empty life and made him want to be so much more than he was. Enjolras
became
Grantaire's purpose, and what a wonderful feeling it was! What Grantaire wouldn't give for five minutes of Enjolras' time, just to show the heartless man how much he really cared!
But Ares only associated with his fellow soldiers. Grantaire was too drunk to even hold a gun, let alone shoot one, let alone hit a target. Ares would never associate with such a disgraceful and incapable warrior. But as Grantaire continued to think about his Greek lessons, he did remember that there was one person Ares did associate without outside of the battlefield, whom he loved very much. Ironically enough, it was one of the pantheon who had no student equivalent. It was Aphrodite.
Yes, everyone knew of the affair between the God of War and Goddess of Love. Although it was scandalous, it was faithful and it was renowned. Aphrodite seemed the only one to truly understand Ares, the only one to see behind the helmet he wore and the bloody sword he held. She was the only one to get that close to him. Not even Ares' brothers in arms knew him as well as the Goddess of Love did.
It was strange but it was real. Grantaire would've liked very much to be Enjolras' Aphrodite, but that was impossible. First off, Enjolras felt nothing for anyone. Second off, Grantaire was neither a woman, nor was he pretty. The man sulked into his bottle. But as he stared at his reflection in the dark and distorted glass, Enjolras' voice still buzzing pleasantly in his ear, something occurred to Grantaire.
The gods were known for being able to change appearances at will. Although it was common for Ares to be rugged and Aphrodite to be beautiful, it was not a law. In addition, the God of War and Goddess of Love were more than just their appearances. They were their ideologies. Enjolras was Ares not because he looked like Ares, but because he
acted
like Ares, warring and strong.
And Grantaire, or maybe it was just the alcohol, began to think that maybe he could be Aphrodite. After all, everyone knew love was painful and miserable, rife with strife and hardly all fun and games. There were no sweet kisses or playful tugs in true love. There was only sacrifice and suffering, but a constant desire for more. Grantaire, as a drunkard hopelessly in love with a man way out of his league, understood this all too well. If only he could just get that God of War to look in his direction and see not a God of Wine, but a God of Love.
Grantaire imagined a life where he stood at Enjolras' right, and not Combeferre. He could see himself, upright and smart, leaning against Enjolras' narrow but powerful shoulders, advising and aiding him, Enjolras nodding in agreement and even affection. It was a beautiful dream. The Gods of War and Love, happily entwined as one, because war and love weren't too different. One could cause the other, or be the outcome. They could work together or work alone, but still yield a similar result.
And as silly as it sounded, Grantaire's drunken mind finally roved over to marriage. Although he had no desire for such frivolity, he supposed it was something a God of Love ought to think about. If it were with Enjolras, it would be strange. Enjolras seemed to feel no romantic or sexual inclination to anyone!
Grantaire then realized that it was June. This month was named after Hera's Roman counterpart, and Hera was the Goddess of Marriage. Perhaps she would bless Grantaire and, against all odds, in this month of marriage, he would manage to start something with Enjolras, just as Aphrodite had done with Ares all those eons ago. If having a husband did not stop Aphrodite from pursuing Ares, daring to
have
a husband would not stop Grantaire. June was a powerful month, and Grantaire could feel it in his bones that this one was going to be ever more powerful yet!
"Grantaire! Put that bottle down!" Enjolras thundered, startling Grantaire awake. He was the only person in all of France with the power to not only wake Grantaire up from a drunken stupor, but to actively get the man to put his bottle down. Grantaire's body acted without his mind and he set the nearly empty drink down, pulling his hand away.
"We are trying to discuss important matters and here you are, muttering to yourself like a fool! You are a dishonor and disgrace!" the young Ares shook his head, golden curls swaying as he shut his sapphire eyes. His words were harsh, sharp as his tongue, but after spending the past half hour listening to Grantaire mumble about gods, love and war, Enjolras could take it no longer. "If you must ramble, ramble to your pillow! Go sleep off your drunkenness and come back when you understand the severity of our situation! Already, some of our allies are backing out and we are also short on ammo! Unless you know how to solve this, take your drink and get out!"
Enjolras finished his cruel speech with his eyes open again, flashing. Olympus fell silent in fear and anticipation. They had angered the God of War, a dangerous mistake. In times like this, Enjolras was Zeus and Ares combined, a terrifying and wrathful sight.
"Enjolras, you wound me greatly," Grantaire told his comrade simply. He was the only one unshaken by Enjolras' wrath. On the contrary, it almost felt nice, because it meant that Ares was finally acknowledging him. Maybe his theory about being Aphrodite wasn't so wrong after all?
"And you wound me as well, sir," Enjolras spoke gravely. "Every passing second is another bullet we could've made or another life we could've saved. Now please, unless you have something constructive to say, leave!" the young man pointed to the stairs, away from Olympus and back down to the lowly world of the mortals.
"As you wish," Grantaire stood to go, nearly falling back over until Courfeyrac and Combeferre helped him up again. Enjolras rolled his eyes and Grantaire felt a very real pain pierce his heart. "As you wish," he repeated, far more gentle now. "But if you should ever need me…"
"I will be sure to send for a wine bottle," Enjolras finished. Grantaire's wounded expression deepened, but Enjolras had already turned away, returning to his plans for war. Grantaire was hardly aware of Courfeyrac helping him down the stairs, head still spinning with Enjolras.
"Goodnight, friend," Courfeyrac told the drunkard as they finally reached a place for him to sleep everything off.
"Goodnight, friend," Grantaire responded emptily. He climbed into his bed, Enjolras' voice still ringing in his ears.
"Oh, Enjolras, how you wound me so!" Grantaire repeated, but this time, there was no one to hear him. The God of War and Thunder had wounded him with something sharper than any sword or arrow. And now, the God of Wine and Love could do nothing but grieve alone.
Much like the Greek pantheon, this new French one was no stranger to drama and in-fighting, even between two people who adored each other more than their own lives or thrones. Grantaire could only pray to the Greek gods that June would be merciful unto them all and that maybe, just maybe, the story of Ares and Aphrodite would find its happily ever after in them.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Westford Mapp and Benjamin Bartholomew Barnaby had been dating for almost a year now, having met during some special science talk their university was giving. Even though Westford was only a sophomore and Barnaby a graduate student, the two still grew so close that they became lovers. Now here they were, on one of their off days in spring, and they were headed out for a little coffee date. How cheesy and romantic.
"Seriously, could you be any more of a Basic White Girl?" Barnaby scoffed as Westford sipped his tall coffee Frappuccino with skim milk.
"Excuse you, sir, there is absolutely nothing wrong with my choice of drink," Westford spoke importantly, puffing up his chest. "It doesn't make me any more or less of a person to drink this!" he intentionally took a long sip to prove his point.
"That may be so," Barnaby laughed at his boyfriend's antics. "But it still makes you a BWG."
"And there's nothing wrong or shameful with that!" Westford agreed. "I would wear that label with pride because it's who I am. We need to stop shaming people for their tastes just because they've become a stereotype or a trend! After all, I have a lot of 'BWG' friends and they're the sweetest people on the planet. There's nothing wrong with being a BWG. Especially when the coffee is sooooo good!"
"Even sweeter than their extra-sugar-extra-cream-extra-espresso-skim-milk-no-foam-pumpkin-spice-latte-mochas-grandes?" Barnaby joked. Westford only glared at him, taking another deep draft of his caffeinated beverage. His look was so serious that Barnaby began to bellow with laughter. To him, it was just so hard to take someone as scrawny and adorkable as Westford seriously, especially when he was glaring over a cup of fancy BWG coffee while debating about what constituted a BWG in the first place. It was too precious!
"Oh, Westford! My love, you're killing me!" Barnaby wheezed. "Do you want me to take a picture of your cup and post it online for you? You can keep sitting there, brooding and looking all hipster and mysterious if you'd like! I'll come up with a witty, important hashtag for ya!"
"Well, just try it then!" Westford insisted, pushing the cup over to Barnaby. Unlike Westford, Barnaby hadn't even bought any coffee, choosing instead to drink a soda that he'd snuck in. He just wasn't a coffee person.
"And turn into a BWG?" Barnaby pretended to look horrified.
"Barnaby, you already
are
basic and white and you act really girly at times," Westford reminded his boyfriend.
"Just how many pumps of sugar, caramel, pumpkin and espresso are in that thing?" Barnaby snorted, pushing the cup back to Westford.
"Not a lot," Westford answered honestly, choosing to overlook his boyfriend's sarcasm. "I asked them to go easy on everything."
"Ah! Of course you did!" Barnaby snickered. "You hipsters need a skinny frame, and of course the BWG in you won't drink more than 20 calories."
"Barnaby!" Westford pushed the cup back over to Barnaby, but Barnaby returned it again, continuing their little game.
Westford sighed in exasperation. He really did love Barnaby, and these petty games were pretty fun sometimes, but this one was just a little bit of a sore spot for Westford. It was because, although everything Barnaby was saying did have some grain of truth, Westford still hated hearing those BWG stereotypes. True or not, they honestly did demean someone's lifestyle. And Westford always, honestly, felt bad about making fun of people, even if it was just to mock the silly stereotypes. He was too much of a softie! Barnaby, however, more than made up for that.
"Just try it, please?" Westford begged again.
"Nope!" Barnaby grinned cheerfully. He had nothing against anyone, he just made the BWG jokes because he knew it got under Westford's skin, and he absolutely loved to make that adorkable little guy squirm!
It was so funny to watch him get all flustered and try to defend his "sisters". He was just so justice-oriented and it really was quite beautiful. It was part of the reason Barnaby had fallen for him in the first place. Westford ha a pure heart that was impossible not to love. It was just funny because Westford didn't exactly seem like the hero type, just because of how shy and socially awkward he was. But whatever he lacked in body, he made up for in heart and mind!
"Please," Westford repeated. This time, he allowed his blue eyes to widen in the look of a puppy's.
"Oh no, not the puppy eyes!" Barnaby groaned, but Westford only continued to stare deeply at his boyfriend, still pushing the cup towards him. Then Westford proceeded to add in the quivering lip and tilted head.
"No!" Barnaby wailed, but it was too late. One look and he was sold. As much as Barnaby liked to think of Westford being that adorkable loser, he knew he was guilty of it, too. He could be bought by Westford's adorable expressions.
And even more than that, it was proof that as soft as Westford could be, he was also very cunning. He had a dangerous weapon in the form of his puppy eyes and he was not afraid to use it! He knew how to turn his softness into a strength and use people's underestimation of him against them. It was always such fun!
"Pretty please?" Westford asked, smile turning wicked as Barnaby finally relented.
"Fine. I'll give it a taste! Just give me the stupid coffee," the larger, older man grunted. He brought the cup up to his lips, then paused. "Wait a sec. I have to grab a napkin in case this makes me puke a little," he said.
"Whatever," Westford replied, giving the man consent to grab some napkins. Barnaby stood from his seat and pretended to walk over to the napkins. He grabbed a couple before returning to the seat, but instead of sitting down or picking up the cup, he walked right over to Westford, towering over the smaller boy. Westford frowned up at him.
"Well?" he gestured to the cup. "You said you were going to drink!"
"No I didn't," Barnaby smirked.
"What? Yes you did!" Westford snapped indignantly.
"No I didn't," Barnaby repeated. Then he added, "I said I would
taste
it!"
"Well what does that have to-?" Westford began, but before he could finish, Barnaby had tilted his chin up and kissed him full on the lips.
For a moment, Westford's entire body went limp and it felt like every nerve in his body had relocated
to
his lips. Everything else went numb except for his mouth. For a moment, he couldn't even
think, he was so surprised by Barnaby's kiss. He could feel Barnaby smile into his mouth. Barnaby was very used to such reactions and it made him laugh every single time. It didn't matter how long he and Westford had been together. It didn't matter how many times they'd kissed or touched before. Westford still got so easily flustered, like the blushing little schoolboy he was. He continued to kiss Westford, waiting for him to come to his senses and finally start kissing back.
At last, it happened, and Westford found himself able to control his body and mind once more. He felt a flash of giddiness followed by a flash of feistiness. Barnaby was the only one who could instill any boldness into Westford, and now, he was about to see just how bold Westford could be! Westford was even bold enough to press his tongue inside Barnaby's mouth, much to Barnaby's surprise. In the same way Westford was easy to fluster, Barnaby was easy to surprise. It didn't matter how long he and Westford had been together, he was still always surprised when Westford pulled a move like that. And then Westford's hand slid down to his behind. Holy crap.
"Alright! Get a room you two!" A loud voice interrupted the two men and they broke apart awkwardly. Suddenly, all of Westford's shyness had returned and that bold boy from just a mere two seconds ago was nowhere to be seen. Barnaby, himself, was still a bit surprised by the turn of events, and when he saw some frowning middle-aged worker looking at them with her arms crossed, he waved apologetically.
"Sorry, ma'am!" he said. "My boyfriend just wanted me to taste some of his coffee!"
"Barnaby!" Westford slapped Barnaby's leg, but to both of their surprises, the scowling woman began to smile.
"If you want a taste-test, you can come get an empty cup," she said, voice full of amusement. At the same time, as she held out the spare cup, both of the boys saw something golden flashing on one of her fingers. A wedding ring! So she understood exactly how Barnaby and Westford felt…
Barnaby took the cup with a laugh, apologizing again.
"I don't mind, just try to keep it to a minimum in front of the other customers," she told him with a wink.
"You got it!" he promised before returning to Westford's side.
"Now do you see why I don't like PDA?" Westford hissed, still embarrassed.
"Nope!" Barnaby grinned. "We just met a kindred spirit, after all!"
"Oh, come on, Barnaby, be serious!" Westford complained.
"I am," Barnaby replied smugly. "Besides, can you honestly say you didn't enjoy it?"
"Well, no," Westford admitted, scowl fading into a shy, awkward blush.
"See, I told you!" Barnaby looked satisfied with himself.
"Told me what?" Westford snorted. "Wasn't it I who asked
you
to try the coffee? And speaking of, does this make you a BWG now, too?"
"If I get these coffee kisses again with you, I swear I will be the basic-est, whitest, girliest BWG to ever live," Barnaby vowed, and despite himself, Westford laughed. Then, he raised his cup in a toast and took another big sip of his drink. Mmmm! Delicious!

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"La vie boheme!" The final strains of the wild melody drifted into the snowy night sky as the small pack of rag-tag friends exited Life Café.
"Woo! Hoo! What a wild ride!" Maureen was skipping ahead of the group, even daring to do a few cartwheels despite how cold the ground was.
"Wasn't it? Wasn't it?" Angel agreed. She tried to do a cartwheel as well, but ended up landing on her side instead of her feet.
"Whoa, there! Careful, darling," Tom helped his lover to her feet.
"Oooh, thanks honey," Angel swayed a little as she stood. "I must've had more to drink than I thought."
"That makes two of us," Mimi laughed.
"Three of us," Roger added a moment later. Mimi laughed again. Tonight was easily the happiest any of them had ever had! At least in recent times. First, there was the surprisingly successful protest that Maureen led, strange as it had been. Then, of course, there was the whole La Vie Boheme at Life Café. Even Shy-Guy Mark and Uptight Joanne managed to have fun that night, joining in the song and dance.
"What are we going to do now?" Mimi demanded. "I'm far too hyped to go to bed!"
"Do you just want to have a bit of a walk-around?" Tom suggested.
"In this weather?" Joanne snuggled deeper into her jacket.
"I can keep help you with that, Pookie," Maureen grinned, then she bent over and picked up a handful of snow.
"Oh no, absolutely-!" before Joanne could finish, Maureen chucked the snowball right at her. "MAUREEN JOHNSON!"
While she flinched from the cold, Maureen and everyone else roared with laughter. For a moment, Joanne could only stand there, anger and disbelief etched into her face. Then, she narrowed her eyes.
"So. Is that how you want to play it?" she asked, but too quietly for anyone to hear. Instead, she waited until Maureen had finished laughing.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Pookie," Maureen pretended to look genuinely apologetic, widening her eyes and pushing out her lower lip. She took several steps closer to Joanne and Joanne let her, still wearing that impassive and unreadable expression.
"Promise me you won't give me a cold shoulder?" Maureen asked in that same cooing tone.
"Oooh, honey, no!" Angel pretended to cringe at Maureen's terrible pun. "Even Mark can do better than that!"
"Hey!" Mark pouted at Angel, but Angel only shrugged while Roger, Mimi and Tom all laughed at Mark's expense.
"Puns aside," Joanne interrupted as Maureen continued to step closer to her. "I will not forgive you unless you can prove to me that you really are sorry!" she crossed her arms.
"You really are cold!" Maureen cried, but underneath, she only knew this was Joanne's way of keeping their little game of cat and mouse going. She approached Joanne until they were almost kissing.
"I'm not nearly as cold as you," Joanne replied calmly. Maureen could practically feel the other woman's lips moving because of how close they were to her own. Before Maureen could initiate any kind of kiss, however, a bitter cold bit at her legs.
"Hey!" Maureen jumped back and looked to see that Joanne had kicked some snow onto her while she was too busy focusing on Joanne's soft lips. She looked back up just in time to see a smirking Joanne before her world went very white and very cold.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold!" Joanne declared proudly as Maureen stumbled back.
"Why you little!" Maureen wiped the snow from her face.
"You kind of deserved it," Roger reminded her.
"Shut up, Guitar Hero," Maureen grunted. Roger only shrugged.
"Don't tell me this is going to devolve into an all-out snowball fight!" Mark sighed as he watched his roommate try to provoke his ex.
"Well, that
is
la vie boheme," Mimi chuckled, resting against Roger as they continued to watch the chaos unfold.
"OUCH!" Mark whipped around as he felt the snow hit the back of his head. Tom and Angel were stifling their laughter.
"It was all Angel!" Tom cried, snickering terribly.
"What? Oh, no you didn't! That was all you, honey!" Angel replied, laughing just hard.
"Alright, enough! Which one of you-?" before Mark could try to get a straight answer (why did he think he could get one of those from a gay man and his drag queen lover?) as to who threw the snowball, another one hit him. This time, it hit the side of his face.
"Roger!" Mark had seen his roommate do the deed out of the corner of his eye.
"It was Mimi," Roger replied.
"What? No it wasn't!" Mimi defended, but then she quickly knelt down, grabbed a handful of snow, and stood up again. "But this was!" she chucked the ball right into Roger's face and he yelped as the cold slid down his shirt.
"You monster!" he cried, still hopping around and reaching down his shirt, trying to clean the snow out of it.
"Ooopsie," Mimi gave him an adorable, evil smile before bursting into laughter.
"This means war!" the young guitarist bellowed, then suddenly he and everyone else was on the ground, scrabbling at the snow and ready to attack.
"La vie boheme!" Maureen bellowed at one point before tackling Mark, which caused him to knock over Mimi.
"I hate you all!" Mark muttered, stuck underneath Maureen.
"Love you too, babe," Maureen teased him. Mark gave her another exasperated sigh as she rolled off him. And then hit him with another snowball.
"Jerk!" he muttered, but even
he
couldn't stop the smile creeping across his face.
Many passersby stared in disgust and disdain at the rabble, rolling around like idiotic little children, in the dirty snow of the New York streets, but no one said anything. Even if they had, however, it would've been entirely lost on the little band of friends, joined together by a common suffering and kept together by these moments of happiness and freedom that only a Bohemian could find. Sure, they might've looked stupid, rolling around in the cold gutters of the street, but the laughter was enough to keep them warm during the snowball fight.
They were all struggling, with rent, with drugs, with HIV and AIDS, with judgment and discrimination, with loss and grief, with depression and anxiety, with pain, with suffering… with death. But in between those moments of suffering, there were moments of pleasure, and they were what made it all worth it. Moments as small and silly as a late-night snowball fight were what kept the group together and going. This perfect storm of joy, pain, humor, anger, relaxation and grief were what made their lives truly bohemian.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Pearl! Come on! Don't keep us waiting any longer!" Darton shouted up to his eldest daughter.
"Alright, Dad! I'm coming, I'm coming!" Pearl shouted back down.
"Your Dad and I are going to be old men by the time you finish!" Nick was the next to shout up to the girl.
"You already
are
old men, Papa!" Pearl shouted back down again.
"Oh no you didn't!" Nick pretended to scream in indignation. Pearl didn't bother to reply, choosing instead to descend the stairs with a smirk.
"Told you I just needed a few more minutes," she said.
"Yes, and you look gorgeous," Darton and Nick both agreed.
"No, she doesn't!" Priscilla, her younger sister by 10 years, interrupted. "She always looks ugly! The only difference now is that she's in a dress and she actually tried to do her hair today!"
"You little monster!" Pearl snarled, taking a step towards the child. Priscilla only stuck her tongue out, standing her ground. "I worked really hard on this and you know I've always wanted to work in fashion!" Pearl continued.
"Well, you aren't very good," Priscilla crossed her little arms. Young and small as she was, she was unafraid of pretty much everything.
"Alright now, that's enough," Nick interrupted his quarreling daughters.
"But Dad!"
Three
voices complained, the first two being Pearl and Priscilla, of course, but the third being Darton.
"Darton!" Nick frowned at his husband.
"I just wanted to see who would win the sibling rivalry," the larger man raised his arms in defense.
"Oh, no, don't say that!" Nick despaired, but it was too late.
"I would've won!" Priscilla declared proudly.
"No you wouldn't!" Pearly snapped back. "I'm bigger, older, smarter
and
stronger! You would've lost!"
"Yeah, but if you hit me, I'm gonna tell Dad and Papa and they would ground you for your whole life!" Priscilla puffed out her chest proudly.
"And what do you think I'd be doing if I were confined to this house for the rest of my life, eh?" Pearl growled, crossing her arms as she scowled. Nick only gave his husband another despairing and angry look, but he said nothing else as they headed out to the car.
"Ooops," Darton muttered, entirely unrepentant. He was grinning from ear to ear as he followed Nick outside.
There, in the car, the third and final child was already waiting. Her name was Poppy, and she was right in the middle of her sisters, five years older than Priscilla and five years younger than Pearl. As of today, she was 13 and she was, by far, the quietest of the trio. While Pearl was large and in charge, and Priscilla was loud and proud, Poppy was the quiet, invisible, middle child. But she actually preferred it that way. She wasn't as bossy as Pearl, and she was much more polite than Priscilla.
Darton and Nick looked at her pityingly. They loved all three of their children, but they sometimes felt bad about how quiet Poppy was. That wasn't to say she was friendless, or never went out, but it was clear that she was the most forgettable of the three just because of her generally passive and introverted nature. She was so quiet! Darton and Nick suddenly felt bad about having to subject her to her sisters' sibling rivalry.
"Dad, Papa, do I have to listen to them on the whole drive over?" Poppy complained about five minutes into the drive. Priscilla and Pearl still going at it. Nick, who was driving, shot a look at his husband. Darton finally had the decency to look ashamed as he turned around.
"Sorry, kiddo," he told his middle child. "We can listen to the radio if-"
"I get dibs!" Priscilla shouted before Darton had even finished talking.
"What? No way! You picked last time!" Pearl snapped. "Papa, Dad! Why don't you be nice and let Poppy pick?"
Everyone in the car was surprised by this line, but the surprise faded relatively fast. It wasn't an act of kindness that made Pearl insist that Poppy pick the station, it was a tactic. The way she saw it, her fathers wouldn't be very happy at the idea of letting
her
pick the station, since she'd been just as bad as Priscilla. But Pearl was gaining the advantage by changing her goal from making sure that
she
got to pick the station to making sure that anyone
but Priscilla
got to pick the station.
This opened up more paths to victory, and Pearl could already sense that Poppy would be chosen just because she was the most well-behaved of the three, so Pearl wanted to jump on that before either of her dads could. If Pearl could pretended to support Poppy before anyone else, it would further decrease the odds of Priscilla being the one to get permission to pick the station. In short, by forfeiting her chance to win, Pearl was ensuring that Priscilla lost. It was petty, but hey, that was sibling rivalry! And even though the rest of the family caught on fast, the trick still worked, so Pearl got her way in the end anyway.
"I hate you," Priscilla mouthed to Pearl.
"Ooops," Pearl shrugged sweetly. Poppy only smirked to herself. She had gotten into her own fair share of sibling rivalry before, but for today, it seemed that she was safe, a gleeful spectator rather than an active participant. That was fine by her. No doubt, it would be her turn to quarrel with her sisters soon enough. For now, though, she was going to bask in being the well-behaved middle child!
"Urgh! I hate this song!" Priscilla crossed her arms again and began pouting.
"Hey! This is one of my favorite artists!" Poppy defended.
"But this song is so overplayed!" Priscilla whined.
"It's better than the stupid dubstep remixes, TouYube raps and nightcores
you
listen to!" Poppy accused.
"Hey! That's all indie stuff that comes from your average joe!" Priscilla reminded her older sister. "This radio crap was sung by a girl worth millions and she still isn't even that good! Her stuff is all so repetitive!"
"Oh, and dubstep isn't?" Pearl butted in with a snort. "It's nothing but one single monotonous beat and a few bass drops. It's nothing creative!"
"Oh, because the emo music you listen to just oozes with deep, meaningful prose!" Priscilla rolled her eyes.
"It's not emo music! It's alternative rock, punk rock and metal!" Pearl huffed, sitting up straighter as she took personal offense to Priscilla's barb.
"Would you rather listen to some classical?" Nick interrupted, suddenly switching the radio to the station holding all of the old dead composers from centuries gone by.
"Ugh! No!" All three of the siblings were able to put aside their rivalry for that one. Nick and Darton both laughed before switching the radio back.
"Or we could always listen to some riveting weather news!" Darton grabbed the controls next.
"-forecast is cloudy, with a 70% chance of some scattered showers across the-"
"NO!" even Nick protested this one.
"No need to be so aggressive!" Darton laughed, switching the radio back again.
"That man has the world's most boring, monotonous voice in history!" Nick groaned. "I listen to old broadcasts to help me fall asleep!"
"You do not!" Darton cried, raising his eyebrows to show he didn't believe Nick, then his look grew sensual. "I mean, I should know…" he said.
"Gross, Dad!" Pearl interrupted as Poppy and Priscilla covered their ears.
"Oh, sorry, love!" Darton turned around to wink at his daughter.
"Ugh," Pearl rubbed her temples. Darton turned back around with another laugh.
"Don't worry, you'll find a nice girl eventually," he promised. "Then you won't have to be jealous of Papa and I!"
"The day the weatherman's voice stops being so boring she will," Priscilla muttered.
"I heard that," Pearl kicked her youngest sister.
"Alright, no kicking!" Nick and Darton both quickly put an end to the fight. Arguing and bantering they could deal with, but there would be no physical violence. They didn't want any hospital visits, and they were willing to bet that their children would be more than capable of sending someone, including each other, to the hospital. Priscilla was a spitfire, Pearl could be very aggressive when her authority was challenged, and heck, even Poppy was unnaturally strong for a young girl of 13.
"Yes Fathers," three voices pretended to whine unhappily.
"Oooh! I love this song!" Nick cried as the song changed over. It was, of course, another pop song, as Poppy had chosen the Pop station, but it was one that was far more liked than the previous song. Nick began to bellow out the words with Darton keeping in perfect harmony.
"I think I'm gonna die," Pearl deadpanned.
"I think I'm gonna throw up," Priscilla agreed, even pretending to gag.
"Just cover your ears and wait for the torture to end," Poppy suggested, already blocking her ears with her fingers. If there was one thing that put their sibling rivalry to rest, at least for a little, it was when their dads sang or made stupid jokes. Darton and Nick saw their daughters, ears all plugged, and laughed, only encouraged to sing even louder and even more off-key, just to spite the children. The three children winced. They knew both Nick and Darton had better voices than this, but hey, anything to make the kids suffer. Wasn't having two dads just the best thing ever?
"Ah, that was fun!" Nick sighed once the song was over.
"I have it on my phone," Darton said. "I even have the karaoke version! Should we listen to it again?"
"NO!"

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Two girls, both of them around the age of 16, wandered the Emerald City Palace gardens. The gardens, like the castle and city which surrounded them, were vast, sprawling and green. Flowers, trees, vines, fruits and any combination of plants dotted the emerald landscape. There were several romantic little streams crisscrossing the expansive and endless pastures, passing by several benches, terraces and swings that dotted stony and grassy fields and trails. It was a beautiful and arcadian place.
"Ah, it is so wonderful to get a chance to actually enjoy all of this!" One of the girls, Dorothy Gale, took in a deep breath, the wild and fresh smells of the garden filling her head with a warm pleasantness.
"I agree," her companion, Princess Ozma, said. "It's so nice to just get a chance to relax and have a walk-about the royal garden instead of having to tramp through it to get to some new meeting!"
"Don't jinx it now," Dorothy warned with a laugh. "Or before you know it, one of your servants will come running out here, bellowing for you!"
"Oooh, you're right. Pretend that I said nothing," Ozma pretended to zip soft, warm lips with pale, slender fingers. Dorothy shook her head in amusement, brown curls gleaming a dark copper in the warm, golden, summer sun.
The two girls were as close as any could be, all of their adventures in Oz only bringing them closer and closer with every passing day. They did practically everything together, even when apart. Whether it be Ozma or Dorothy who was away on some mission, or forced to stay back and care for the Emerald City while the other was away, neither girl was ever too far from the other. It was all thanks to a bunch of magic from Glinda, the Wizard of Oz, and Ozma herself. Dorothy and Ozma were able to speak no matter where they were in Oz.
But still, nothing beat being alone together, not needing magic to speak with one another. It was a rare moment in the lives of these two Ozian queens that they were able to be together in such solitude for so long, so they made sure to make every last moment last. They were spending today's (currently) off-day, in the garden and just being with each other. It was paradise.
"So, what are you thinking we should do for dinner?" Dorothy asked as she and Ozma, hand in hand, walked by a garden of poppies.
"I am thinking that we request for the chef to make us something more summery," Ozma remarked. "Perhaps an array of fancy salads from some of our finest greeneries!" The beautiful queen of Oz gestured all around herself and Dorothy. "I am in the mood for something that reminds me of June, and fruits and vegetables will do nicely."
"But what about our Cowardly Lion?" Dorothy asked, laughing. "You know he hates anything that's not meat! He won't be happy to come home after a long day helping build infrastructure only to be met with watermelon and lettuce!" she smiled fondly as she thought of her dear old friend. How could he consider himself a coward when he was so strong and brave? And he certainly wasn't afraid to voice his opinion when it came to foodly matters. Although he loved Ozma and Dorothy both, there was no doubt he would be put off if this grand dinner was strictly green.
"Ah, I suppose then, for the meat-eaters, we may have a barbecue," Ozma decided with a matching smile of amusement. The Cowardly Lion had been her bodyguard several times over, so she knew him very well and was quite fond of him, and vice versa. He was one of her closest friends. She would feel bad if she hadn't included him into the feast.
"Ah, that sounds delicious! I'm sure Uncle Henry, Auntie Em, and Toto will all love that too!" Dorothy clapped. It didn't matter how long she or her family had lived in Oz, they were still always amazed at the vast quantity and style of food that Ozian life had to offer, especially since they had come from a relatively small and poor background. They had pigs, cows and chicken, but that was about all in terms of meat, and once Uncle Henry ended up facing the risk of losing the farm, meat went down. To come to Oz and have an array of foreign and home-cooked meats in any way you could imagine was something none of them had thought possible and were still acclimating to even today.
"I suppose we'll just have to make sure Scarecrow stays away from the fire-pit," Ozma joked, thinking fondly of her advisor. Aside from Dorothy, Glinda and maybe the Wizard of Oz himself, there was no one else Ozma trusted more than him. He was a fellow of vast intelligence, even if he didn't always believe it. He was wise and cunning and always had great ideas.
"Yes, let's leave all the fire and wood to the Tinman," Dorothy agreed with a laugh to match Ozma's. "He should be returning from the castle in the west today," she added. "It'll be so good to see him again!"
"Won't it?" Ozma agreed. "I do wonder if he plans on bringing any of the flying monkeys to join us. If so, I'll probably need to talk to the chef about adding more bananas to the list…" The young queen trailed off pensively as she continued to go down a mental checklist of who all might be joining them at this nice little summer banquet. The Wizard would probably help himself to the barbeque and Glinda would probably have some designer meal just brought to her. Who else did that leave for Ozma to look after?
The pair walked on in silence for a little longer, still thinking about the upcoming feast. Then, of course, came the lighthearted banter of who was going to clean up after the meal.
"I cooked!" Ozma joked. "You clean!"
"But we did that yesterday!" Dorothy pretended to complain. "And every single day before that!" she added, referring to the fact that although she was a princess who was loved dearly by Ozma, Ozma did still technically outrank her.
"Oh, whatever!" Ozma grinned. "I spent enough time doing dishes as that little stable boy, Tip!"
Ozma was, of course, referring to her earlier days, before she realized that she was the true heir to Oz. Back then, she'd been forced to live as a boy, not even realizing that she was actually a girl, until the witch who cursed her was defeated. With the curse broken, Ozma's true form was revealed, a beautiful woman and not a silly little boy. In that event, Oz got its queen and Ozma got her true identity. But even though the witch who'd cursed Ozma was no more, the gender-swap spell still existed. Ozma used it now to aid any Ozian who felt unhappy with the present gender. One simple incantation and she could switch them to whatever their heart desired!
"And you don't think I didn't do chores back in Kansas when I was still only a little farm girl?" Dorothy joked. If Ozma was going to try to use her tragic back story as leverage, Dorothy was going to give her a taste of her own medicine. "I'm sure I washed more dishes in one day than you did in one week as Tip! Remember, I had to look after my aunt, uncle, dog, and three farmhands!"
"At least you had those farmhands to help!" Ozma reminded her friend, playfully sticking out her tongue.
"But I didn't have any sort of magic at all to help," Dorothy countered. "Surely you had something that made dishes a bit easier! What did I have?"
The two continued this joking banter until they stumbled upon a small swing towards an emptier part of the garden, in the back.
"Oh! Look!" Dorothy pointed. The swing was surrounded by a ring of flowers and tied to a large tree, hearts and names scattered across the bark.
"Ah, the Roost of Romance!" Ozma laughed. She'd nearly forgotten about this tired old swing because of how scarcely she had been able to come out this far without something, or someone, getting in her way and bringing her back to the palace.
It was a swing constructed even before her time. She couldn't remember which of the Ozmas had created it, she just knew from legends that it had been her wedding present to her husband. The reason she had chosen this swing in this particular spot was because the story said that her husband had once been a thief, intending to steal something from the castle. His route of entrance was through this emptier part of the garden. During that time, the Ozma had been in that lonely part of the garden, mourning how she had no one to love. That was when he came to her and, through dumb luck and an adventure, the two fell in love.
Once they got married, this place of the garden became a hotspot for young lovers to come and hope for luck in all their relationships. How many times had peasants climbed over the garden wall just to sit in that sacred swing with their sweethearts? Well, all the names and hearts etched into the tree from which the swing swung was a clear indicator that the number was high. What people did for love!
"Shall we?" Dorothy gestured to the swing. Ozma smiled fondly at her dearest friend and allowed the other girl to sit her down. The two rested against the back of the swing, rocking it gently. For a few moments, there was only the gentle creak of the swing as the two fell in perfect peace and harmony with each other and the very nature and magic of the garden itself. There really was something special about this little old swing. Its love and magic were present, even so long after its creators had passed.
"I love you, Dorothy," Ozma said at last, finally opening her eyes and turning her head to look at her closest companion.
"I love you too, Ozma," Dorothy replied, then slowly, hardly aware of it, both girls leaned in closer and closer. Their kisses were small, gentle and short, but no less passionate than that of experienced lovers. In time, the two had forgotten everything. They'd forgotten the Scarecrow, the Tinman, the Cowardly Lion, Toto, Glinda, the Wizard, and all of Oz itself. All that filled either of their heads as they kissed was each other. Small, gentle, little kisses that were just as loving as that of the most passionate and fierce lovers in all of Oz.
The swing even stopped moving, neither girl propelling it forward. But then it began to move back and forth again, not that either girl noticed. Nor did they notice the smiling face that watched them for a moment before going back the way it came. The face belonged to none other than Glinda the Good. She had come to speak with Ozma about another conference with some of the mayors of Gilikin, but when she stumbled upon the scene of her queen kissing her princess, she stopped at once and smiled fondly.
Glinda, herself, had never been one for romance, but she was still quite the romantic. Seeing this tender scene, she gently bade for the swing to move again, rocking the two lovers back and forth as she watched for a moment more. Her little enchantment lasted long after she had respectfully turned away from the couple, deciding that the matter of Gilikin could wait. There would always be more mayors and malcontent and meetings to be had, but moments of love as true, innocent, deep and serene as this were rare. They had to be savored and nothing was worth interrupting them.
So while Glinda turned back towards the Emerald City Palace, leaving the two young lovers to swing gently back and forth, Ozma and Dorothy remained entirely unaware of Glinda's presence and subsequent absence. Instead, they were still very much lost somewhere over the rainbow, in their own little world that no one else could see. There, in that corner in the garden, two young lovers were in a perfect paradise that was only and entirely their own.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" a large man snapped as Iris ran into him.
"Oops, sorry!" she apologized sincerely. The man only continued to give her a dirty look, sneering down his nose at her.
"These stupid Zoomers and their smartphones!" he muttered under his breath, then he was gone as quickly as he had come.
"I said I was sorry," Iris muttered under her breath as well, but someone still heard her. That someone was her girlfriend, Storm. The two of them were out at the store, grocery shopping. Or rather, Storm was shopping. Iris was intently reading her phone.
"You know, he has a point," the older woman said. "You've been on that stupid thing all morning! I've hardly even seen your face because its been glued to your screen! You should put your phone down at least a little and actually live! Do something productive!" she insisted.
"Oh, shut up Storm," Iris grunted. "Just because you aren't into social media doesn't mean you need to scorn or shame those who are! I
am
living. If you saw it the way I did, you'd understand that social media
does
open a person up. Think about all the people and info I have at my fingertips. How can you say I'm not being productive or living? I've seen and met more people on this little device than I have anywhere else in this world!"
"Alright, alright, Triggered Special Snowflake Zoomer. There's no need to get so defensive," Storm taunted.
"First off, you know full well I only get triggered when you call me triggered," Iris began in irritation, Storm's attempts to get under her skin starting to work. "Second off, you know I don't like using that term just because it really is supposed to be a medical term reserved for those who have legitimate triggers, not just something that ticks them off."
"Hmm, that
is
true," Storm said thoughtfully.
"Yeah, and it was something I read off the
internet," Iris waved her phone with a smirk. "Someone pointed out how it might not be appropriate to use a medical term in such casual and satirical conversation in case it devalued the actual thing, something I would've never even considered without, you guessed it, the
internet!"
"But then again, that term might not have even became part of the mainstream without social media," Storm pointed out.
"Oh, whatever," Iris grunted. "Besides, I wasn't even on a social media site this time. I was on a fanfiction site. There's a really good story out!"
"Wait! Fanfiction? You read
fanfiction?" Storm scoffed, laughing in disdain.
"I write it too," Iris defended. She was used to people mocking her when she confessed to being a fanfiction fan. Having to defend her passion was an old battle and she was getting less and less hurt by remarks like this, even from her lover.
"Seriously? You actually write that fake, wannabe, cash-grab trash?" Storm shook her head. "That isn't
real
literature."
"Sure it is," Iris argued. "You're right that there are some crappy, poorly-written stories out there, but most of them are really good. They're all done out of passion and they're all done for free. There's nothing wannabe or cash-grabbing about fanfiction. I don't think many authors are in it for the publicity and certainly no one is in it for pay. Would any other author be willing to do what a fanfiction writer does? I think not!"
"Well, ok, so you got me there. Fanfiction is free where real literature is not," Storm allowed. "But fanfiction is still amateur stuff!"
"Perhaps anyone is able to post," Iris agreed. "But there are a lot of really, genuinely amazing stories out there! They have good plots, realistic development, stellar grammar, etc. Often, fanfiction writers are passionate about what they do and, thusly, try to do their best every single time. That means lots of editing and refining, even if there are still mistakes in the end. It's not as rookie as you think. People put a lot of time and effort into their works and it shows, both in what occurs in the story and how grammatically correct it's formatted."
"Ok, ok," Storm allowed again.
"But that's why fanfiction is so amazing!" Iris continued. "I love fanfiction because it's so full of that love and passion and it's a chance for people with a common interest to unite and talk about that interest. Fanfiction can give you so many new perspectives and scenarios for your favorite already-existing stories to go through, even when the credits have rolled or the book has closed or the curtains have fallen!"
"Well, what fanfiction is it?" Storm asked finally. She was still a bit skeptical about the academic legitimacy of fanfiction, but as Iris explained how it built lasting friendships and skills as a writer/communicator and thinker, she relented a little. After all, wasn't the only difference between fanfiction and "real literature" where it was posted? Because a lot of real literature
was
fanfiction. Think about every story based around religion, like Dante's
Inferno, or any story set with the Civil War as a backdrop, like
Gone
with the Wind, or books like
Wicked
which took a preexisting story and rewrote it a little. Maybe fanfiction wasn't as dumb as it seemed.
"It's a Twilight fanfiction," Iris gave her phone to Storm.
"Oh, nope, nope, nope!" Storm grunted. Ok, so she could call fanfictions like the aforementioned three Real Literature, but she was
so
not going to call any stupid little internet fever dream from a teen-girl about a sparkly vampire Real Literature. She pushed the cart away from Iris.
"Hey, this is one of the good ones!" Iris defended, chasing after Storm. "Besides, you already know I'm Twilight fan!" she added.
"Good ones? Twilight was a piece of trash! How can anything better come from it?" Storm sneered.
"You haven't even read the books or seen the movies. How can you be so sure it's crap?" Iris challenged.
"Because so many others have already told me horror stories about it," Storm replied with a disgusted face.
"But just because the Majority says something doesn't mean they're right," Iris reminded. "Besides, Storm, you are a self-proclaimed lone-wolf. When have you ever taken the opinion of the Majority without at least a little scrutiny?"
"Point taken," Storm grunted. Iris was right about Storm being infamous for questioning authority and the Majority, so it was almost out of character for her to judge a book before reading it herself, even if she would still hate it after she read it.
"Here, just skim a few paragraphs," Iris handed Storm the phone again as she returned to the first chapter. Storm gave Iris a wary look, but she obliged, pulling the cart over to the end of the aisle and reading.
A few hours later, Storm was scowling at the TV screen.
"Why in the name of anything would Bella choose one of
those
two losers?" she demanded as Edward and Jacob had their 326th fight over Bella. "That fanfiction was way, way better! Bella would be
so
much better off with Alice, and then Edward and Jacob could go off and-"
"Told ya," Iris grinned. Just as suspected, Storm ended up getting hooked on the fanfiction. In fact, she refused to even give Iris her phone back until she'd finished the whole story! That meant Iris had needed to steal Storm's phone in retaliation so that she could keep reading, too.
Then, once they got home, Storm agreed to at least skim through the Twilight movies. They weren't as terrible as she'd feared, but they were still far from good.
"That fanfiction made it so credible and logical!" Storm continued to complain over Edward and Jacob. "Alice always looked after Bella when no one else would, including her knight in sparkling armor! And Edward and Jacob spend so much time bragging about who's hotter that they might as well just admit that they're gay!" the woman continued to rant while Iris listened in delight.
"That's the beauty of fanfiction," Iris grinned. "You get to choose the character arcs for yourself, if the real ones suck."
"Your darn right they do!" Storm muttered.
After the marathon was done, Storm excused herself. Iris grinned, imaging that the woman was either going to go bleach her eyes or read some gay fanfictions to help her recover from the "aggressive heteronormativity" in the Twilight series. Iris understood where Storm was coming from, but she didn't think there was really anything wrong with having a story with all straight characters. Maybe in the future, there would be more Twilight spinoffs that would have queer characters, but until then, Iris could be patient and look to fanfiction for her representation. That was another plus to the online writing world. If the original canon didn't have good representation, someone would definitely pick up the slack online.
Iris ended up being wrong, though. Storm wasn't just reading Twilight fanfiction, she was
writing
it.
"Who are you, and what have you done with the real Storm?" Iris joked as she sauntered over to Storm, who was typing madly at her computer.
"Just writing a better ending to the saga where Alice hooks up with Bella," Storm grunted, all dignity forgotten in what she considered a personal attack to anyone with good taste. She was hunched over at her chair. Iris only laughed and shook her head, standing behind Storm.
"You know, I write stories too," she said after a moment. "We should do something together, or cross-promote."
"Sure," Storm grunted. "But I'm only gonna review the gay stories you have."
"That's still like 80% of the stories I write," Iris deadpanned. "The other 15 % are non-romantic and then the last 5 % are straight."
"Ah, true," Storm acknowledged. "How many have you written so far?"
"Over 300," Iris replied.
"300?!" Storm bellowed, turning away from her screen.
"I have too much time on my hands!" Iris nodded serenely. Storm could only stare at her, mouth agape. 300?!
But once Storm finally managed to recover from that little shock, she asked Iris for her fanfiction ID.
"What's your username?"
"Ummm… Irhaboggles."
"What?" Storm turned away from her screen again.
"Don't ask. I was always told not to use any real info in my username," Iris winced.
"Eh, whatever works," Storm shrugged and turned back to her screen. She was just about to post her first fanfiction. Iris felt like a proud mother!
Then, once it went up, Storm made sure to add a little shout out at the bottom of the screen:

Inspired off my fellow fanfiction author, Irhaboggles. Please check out Irhaboggles' stories and read and review! Irhaboggles has a lot of good gay stuff for you to sift through!

"Well, it's not a lie," Storm reasoned when Iris laughed at the last sentence.
"True!" she agreed. "The fanfiction world as a whole seems pretty queer and into queer stuff. But that's why I love it so much! It seems that, in some circles, the gay ships are far more numerous and popular than their canon straight ships," the tiny brunette trailed off as she thought about all her OTPs. About half were lesbian, a fourth were gay, a fifth included nonbinary characters who couldn't technically identify as gay because of gender differences, and then whatever remained were straight. Wow. She was more shamelessly gay than she thought…
"Good thing the rest of the fanfiction world seems to follow suit," Iris whispered to herself, thinking about how some of the biggest ships in the sea of fanfiction were gay (Harry x Draco, Elphaba x Glinda, Enjolras x Grantaire, Lafontaine x Perry, Percy x Nico, Will x Nico, Sherlock x Watson, Rizzoli x Isles, Ginny x Luna, Spock x Kirk, Clarke x Lexa, etc).
"This place is a gay paradise!" Storm said aloud, summing up Iris' overall feelings of the world of fanfiction. Sure, there were a lot of straight ships, and there was nothing wrong with that, but there were also armadas upon armadas of gay ones, more so than what was found in canon media. That was where the paradise began.
And even in stories where there was no romance at all, there was still so much beauty, love and newness. Fanfiction gave the world something different to mull over and something fresh to get excited for! A good fanfiction was always worth a read! So Iris and Storm spent the next few hours reading all kinds of fanfiction of varying length, genre and fandom. They read cute fluff fics, beautifully painful angst fics and rather sexy smut fics and then everything in between and back again. They read romantic and platonic, AU and sequels, OCs and crossovers.
At last, however, Iris remembered something.
"Move over," she insisted after she and Storm finished a Harry Potter story. "I want to update one of my own stories today."
"What? How many more are you planning on writing?" Storm demanded. She had a lot of work to do if she was going to read and review all of Irhaboggles/Iris' works. The last thing she needed was for the crazy girl to write anything else.
"I've been doing an anthology all of Pride Month," Iris said. "One story per day. I've got to post the one for June 30th."
"Wonderful," Storm sighed.
"Just give me five minutes," Iris pleaded. "Then we can go back to reading our gay fanfictions."
"Fine," Storm agreed with Iris' terms. Iris smiled up at her from the chair, then, the little authoress got to work on her latest story.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

1. Chapter:
First Realization
Ship/Characters:
Elphaba/Glinda
Fandom:
Wicked
2. Chapter:
Fancy Dinner Date
Ship/Characters:
Iris/Storm
Fandom:
Original Story
3. Chapter:
Always Alleluia
Ship/Characters:
Cora
Fandom:
Devil's Carnival 2
4. Chapter:
Who Are You to Judge?
Ship/Characters:
Tempest/Gale
Fandom:
Original Story
5. Chapter:
Stay
Ship/Characters:
Carmilla/Laura
Fandom:
Carmilla novella, 1872
6. Chapter:
The Shower Drain
Ship/Characters:
Captain/Maxim
Fandom:
Original Story
7. Chapter:
Cowardice
Ship/Characters:
Elle/Carmilla
Fandom:
Carmilla Movie
8. Chapter:
Arrow Ace
Ship/Characters:
Quincy and the Quad Squad
Fandom:
Original Story
9. Chapter:
Early Morning
Ship/Characters:
Mag/Nathan/Marni
Fandom:
Repo the Genetic Opera
10. Chapter:
A New Man
Ship/Characters:
Rexus
Fandom:
Original Story
11. Chapter:
Pride Fest
Ship/Characters:
Beca/Kommissar and every single PP character
Fandom:
Pitch Perfect
12. Chapter:
Being in Love
Ship/Characters:
Iris/Theresa
Fandom:
Original Story
13. Chapter:
Beach Trip
Ship/Characters:
Bella/Alice and Edward/Jacob
Fandom:
Twilight
14. Chapter:
Storm
Ship/Characters:
Storm
Fandom:
Original Story
15. Chapter:
Someone Else
Ship/Characters:
Nico di Angelo
Fandom:
Percy Jackson
16. Chapter:
A Little Bit Wrong
Ship/Characters:
Dr. Lockewood
Fandom:
Original Story
17. Chapter:
Feeding Time
Ship/Characters:
Amelia and the Babadook
Fandom:
The Babadook
18. Chapter:
Platonic Friends
Ship/Characters:
Iris and Clover and Aces
Fandom:
Original Story
19. Chapter:
Consent
Ship/Characters:
Emily-with-a-y, Veronica, Captain Jolie, and Thompson
Fandom:
Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls
20. Chapter:
Hot
Ship/Characters:
Avalon, Iris, and friends
Fandom:
Original Story
21. Chapter:
Polite Conversation
Ship/Characters:
Seamus/Dean, Harry, Dumbledore, McGonagall
Fandom:
Harry Potter
22. Chapter:
Worrying
Ship/Characters:
Iris and Clover's parents
Fandom:
Original Story
23. Chapter:
Acting Classes
Ship/Characters:
Mulan and Mushu
Fandom:
Mulan
24. Chapter:
Liberation Gets Bold Today
Ship/Characters:
Iris and friends
Fandom:
Original Story
25. Chapter:
French Pantheon
Ship/Characters:
The Friends of the ABC, Enjolras/Grantaire
Fandom:
Les Misérables
26. Chapter:
Coffee Kisses
Ship/Characters:
Westford/Barnaby
Fandom:
Original Story
27. Chapter:
Snowball Fight
Ship/Characters:
Cast of Rent
Fandom:
Rent
28. Chapter:
Sibling Rivalry
Ship/Characters:
Princeton and his sisters
Fandom:
Original Story
29. Chapter:
In the Garden
Ship/Characters:
Dorothy/Ozma
Fandom:
Wizard of Oz
30. Chapter:
Fanfiction
Ship/Characters:
Storm/Iris
Fandom:
Original Story