we are all brothers and sisters

okay yall but think about what we could get/are getting next season:

  • we’re gonna see wally as the flash 
  • brother sister crimefighting unit (JOE IS INVOLVED)
  • star labs staying fucking asHES
  • an actual flash museum ??
  • cait’s storyline leveling out and perhaps her becoming an anti hero 
  • bARRY COMING OUT OF THE SPEEDFORCE VIA IRIS BC LIGHTNING RODS YALL
  • a westallen wedding (maybe not immediately but wITHIN THE SEASON AT LEAST)
  • two awesome flashes protecting their city <3_<3
  • bart and jenni? maybe?

[[PLEASE SHARE IF YOU CAN]]

CALL TO SERVE:

The Student Council Alliance of the Philippines, Buklod Atenista and Bukluran UP System will be launching a National Donation Drive for our brothers and sisters in Marawi.

We are inviting all student councils, political parties and student organizations from all over the country to partner with us!

Please message our page, email us at scap.neb@gmail.com, or contact Francis (+639322284155) or Isaac (+639083151257)

#PrayForMarawi
#ParaSaBayan

ALSO: YOU CAN CONTACT ME AND I WILL RELAY YOUR MESSAGES TO BUKLURAN UP SYSTEM.
09566090773

THANK YOU.

“trans men aren’t in danger like trans women are. They are just mistaken for girls in boys clothes and that’s fairly socially acceptable”

this is a limited perspective from young, non or only partially-passing trans men, probably who live in urban areas.

I’m never mistaken for a girl in boys clothing. I am “mistaken” for a man. I have been slapped (not too big a deal), jumped and BADLY beaten by a group of men (way bigger deal), and seriously threatened with rape (one of the more terrifying moments of my life) to prove to me that I can’t “pretend to be a man” and “lie to people” and “get away with it”.

I have seen more than one post (and there’s one going around right now) promoting this idea that trans men are comparatively safe.  

are we safer than trans women? Usually. But we are by no means safe. Trans women are in IMMENSE danger, the fact that we’re in less danger than them does NOT make our real risk invalid or not as important to talk about. 

Here’s a radical idea: stop telling other trans men how at risk they are or aren’t. Your experience is NOT everyone’s experience and I am exhausted with the implication that trans men are safe. Safer, when we pass, but the same is true of trans women who pass, they are comparatively safer than trans women who don’t pass. That doesn’t make them SAFE. 

Regardless, this isn’t a “who’s in more danger” race, y’all. Trans people are at risk. Trans women can talk about being at risk without implying that trans men aren’t. And trans men can talk about being at risk without somehow detracting from the risk trans women experience. 

This isn’t a competition. Love and support your brothers and sisters and nonbinary sibs, all of whom face immense risk out there. 

4

You guys hear about this young couple in Cincinnati that both committed suicide literally just a few days ago? I came across it on Facebook and I find it so sad how ignored black mental illness is. These kids were depressed and neither of their families took it serious, all they had was each other and when Mercedes, 19y, killed herself (April 20th), Markeice, 20y, followed 2 days later(April 22). Markeice even went as far as posting a Facebook live video minutes before he died saying his goodbyes to everyone and wrote a long suicide note on his page but they didn’t get to him in time. From what I’ve been reading in the condolences is, Mercedes was pregnant with Markeice’s child and really needed her family support, they gave her the opposite. When she died, her family blamed Markeice and denied him access to her funeral. He was devastated that he just lost his partner and child on top of being blamed by her family and treated as such. He ended his own life 2 days before her funeral service. May this young couple and their child rest in peace and may we all remember to pay attention and listen when one of our fellow brothers and sisters come to us with any mental situation and take it as seriously as possible. This could’ve all been prevented if they were taken serious and actually listened to. R.I.P Mercedes Shaday and Markeice Brown 🙏🏾👼🏾

and then there was me, a queer girl in the catholic church with traditional parents. i grew up with a fingernail caught in my throat. i changed the words to songs so i’d be singing about boys. i was scared of “gay”. my mother told me it meant happy but i knew it meant being pushed to the floor of the bus. i remember my bible school teacher telling us that the greatest sin a woman can have is not giving a man her love. i remember realizing i liked girls and putting it in a box i labelled dirty and couldn’t bring myself to touch. when i came out i had to ask if my parents still loved me, like the idea of their acceptance ended where my sexuality began. they pull back when i accidentally slip and admit i like a girl. they promise the church doesn’t hate us, just doesn’t let us get married under god’s roof with god present. oh it’s a fine marriage, we accept it, but technically in the eyes of the church i’m living in sin. it would be better if i liked men. when i was 7 i was sure i was going to unhappily marry a man just to make my parents happy. at 23 i might marry a man just to make my parents happy.

god was this hard thing we couldn’t figure out how to handle. god came beyond the doors of the church. my god answered me at night but reminded me to cower. my god killed my brothers and sisters in the hands of others. how am i to reconcile that god that felt like love and belonging with the god called down in conversion camps. how am i to say i love the light of god when i have seen it burn the flesh of others.

i watch it still. for a while i was spitting and hissing and wouldn’t let god near me. i think it was better then, when i had shut my doors to the idea of it. once i tried to find god again i found myself desperately lost in the forest.

i was always so alone in church. always different. it wasn’t until i mentioned it once in an online chat that i found someone else who had gone through the same thing. how terrible, to form a community of people who have all been cast out. how powerful.

we, together, discussing at two a.m if god is real and if she is where she begins and ends. my brothers and sisters and family - we are all so strong for having survived this. for having been spat out by what should have accepted us. that first community. that first slap. the book that taught us not all books are homes. the book that i spent hours combing over looking for where my flaws were entombed. that curse that keeps following us, doggedly, just when we thought we shook it off - watching others take god as an excuse to punish us, to put into law our discrimination, to enact and enforce violence against us. “god loves you,” we were told. is this what god looks like? our first relationship with abuse?

i am stuck with an eternity of questions. can we find our own god? can we find her in each other? do we leave god entirely, and just find love in the stories of us lost lambs? is god worth it? was the word of god really to ruin us? is god even to blame for any of this, or is this how humans are when they find something to hit? 

all i know is this: i am not alone. and if you’re like me, come to me. talk. i’ll listen. god only knows nobody else did.

Tough

I got inspired by humans are weird posts.
The first time it happened, no one took notice. When it reached the hundredth time, everyone took notice.

The newest members of the Galactic Alliance were tough beyond imagination. Stories were spread all over the place.

“I once saw one go for ten klicks without stopping, while their leg was broken.”

“Hey, have you heard about the time one managed to lift half of a ship to get a member of the crew out?”

“They do what???”

“They pierce metal into their flesh and inject ink into their skin.”

“How do they not die?”

“They heal so fast it doesn’t trouble them.”

The species in question: Humans. Rumors spread of their strength. Twenty years after they joined one of the Universe’s most brilliant minds released an article on humans.

She had lived among humans since they joined. Every bit of their culture fascinated her. When her apartment complex went up in flames she saw men and women racing inside to get those trapped out. Her eyes widened when she met veterans. They told her stories that she could hardly believe, but their mental and physical scars told otherwise. Her heart stopped when a child went missing and their parents searched for weeks even when others had given up. Famine struck in small countries, cars crashed, children were born, friends became family, some were lost, others were gained, and these strange creatures always kept going. Humans were people of iron wills, mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers.

This brilliant mind read through their lore and felt all their feelings. Danger was not unfamiliar to them. It was a fact of life. Animals nearly gave her a heart attack.

“What creatures are these?”

“Those are cats. They’re a type of pet.”

“You keep flesh-eating clawed animals as pets?”

Not to mention the weather, and the planet itself.

“Why is the ground shaking?”

“It’s an Earthquake. They’re quite common here, because we are on a fault line.”

“Is this planet designed to kill you?”

“In a way, yes.”

The atmosphere was made up of oxygen. Which is used as a type of fuel source. Essentially, humans breathed death.

When the article hit the mainstream humans became the most sought after explorers. Who knew that these people were so tough.

here’s what we know.

our cecil:

  • doesn’t have a brother
  • has evidence of a brother in his home
  • has a sister
  • is openly gay
  • lives in night vale, in which lgbt people are completely accepted

cecil from cal’s timeline:

  • grew up in a homophobic environment 
  •  has a brother (cal)
  • abby does not exist
  • janice does not exist

cecil from the cassette timeline:

  • dies at fifteen
  • at the age of fifteen, has a brother
  • this brother has “hollow eyes”
  • this brother believes radio voices should be high
  • would recreationally vandalize things alongside cal as a teenager

kevin:

  • has “dark black eyes”
  • radio personality 
  • high voice
  • lives in a town more conservative than night vale (desert bluffs)
  • during the strex invasion, was physically handicapped
  • shown to enjoy dark, twisted things
  • often described as having a gruesome smile
  • has a fascination with teeth, gore and blood
  • decorates using the above

cal:

  • is cecil’s brother from an alternate timeline in which cecil never came out as gay
  • coughs up teeth
  • is bleeding throughout his episode 
  • leaves a bloodstain on cecil’s rug

abby:

  • is cecil’s sister from the timeline in which the show takes place

 “ash beach”:

  • similarly to how in “cal”, cecil hears crunching eggshells, the figures are describes as sounding like cracking egg shells
  • it was an episode in which people experienced false memories
  • in the episode, john peters (you know, the farmer?) experienced false memories of his long-lost brother

here’s what we don’t know.

  • e v e r y t h i n g

AND THIS IS ALL WITHOUT FUCKING MENTIONING HUNTOKAR, THE BLOOD-SPACE-WAR, THE END OF THE WORLD, OR THE RUSSIAN STUFF.

Lance McClain headcannons

I’m not even a part of this fandom but still


-Cuddle Puddle or die
-has sharp k-9 teeth (when he smirks/smiles everyone dies BC how fucking cute¿)
-Is scared of being abandoned/alone & seeks out affection (usually Hunk BC Lance thinks no one actually likes him on the ship)
-Kieth/Shiro/Whatever is just shook BC “Holy shit are you not aware of how much I/we love you??”
-Feels forgotten all the time
-Wants to be loved
-Is loved but doesn’t know it
-is bi and willing to try
-scared shitless of bugs
-shrieks like a banshee
-Can sew/knit/craft like a pro ( so many sisters/brothers/nieces/nephews he just picked up the craft)
-Supportive Mom Friend ™
-Also Meme King™
-Does Ballet/figure skating
-Lance is soo fucking gracefull like what? -Allura wants to know wtf that is
-Lance freezes the pool and teaches anyone whose willing
-Shiro falls on his ass,, he’s better at fighting on stable ground
-Kieth is not about that life
-Pidge hates the cold
-Allura can only skate forwards. Too scared to attempt tricks
-Coran is dedicated to learning the skill
-Hunk has delt with Lance’s training and decides no™
-Lance is like a drill sargent,, he takes it seriously
-BC is cousin was a pro figure skater til they had a fall on the ice and broke their neck
-All performances are dedicated to them
-can speaks in Spanish
-talks shit about anyone in Spanish
-Speaks Gaelic
-is prepared to fight anyone who fucks with his space fam
-Can bake better than anyone Hunk knows (idk but I think Hunk would b meh at baking)
-Cries easily
-An angry crying
-His eyes tend to get darker/lighter with mood
-big blue doe eyes
-doesn’t play games when it comes down to the wire
- is 100% a great singer
-Selina, Shakira, etc.
-tends to have emotional breakdowns
-once infront of Coran (who immediately swaddles Lance)
-Loves flowers
-totes stereotypical tumblr plant room
-enjoys horchata he had to figure out a substitute in space
-Lance Existentialism McClain™
-voices his existential thoughts at any moment
-Shiro &/Coran are concerned
-Kieth agrees
-Hunk is passive (used to this type of shit)
-Allura wants to know more
-Pidge is sh00k
-is kind, patient, hardworking, and depressed
-Fake It Til You Make It™
-Has multiple colored Band-Aids at all times
-cares so much??
-camps out in the hanger with the lions
-can communicate with the other lions BC his and blue’s relationship is that deep
-self confidence? TF is that?
-All around a good & soft boy who needs love and care

Will Carol and Daryl ever be together? There are rumors he’s gay…

Jeffrey Dean Morgan: He’s not gay! *laughs*

Norman Reedus: *laughs* Yeah, you know it’s funny when you say something in the press and it’s spun into something else. The gay rumors happened because Kirkman joked about it once, and then that went voooom, and it’s been used as a headline, but…

NR: As far as romance, he already has a relationship with Carol, if that’s what you’re talking about. You know, never say never. I don’t know, to be honest. Yeah, people want death and they want sex.

JDM: Yeah. 
NR: A sexy death. 
JDM: Yeah, sexy death. Death while sex. I mean that’s how I’d wanna go. 
NR: You sick bastard. 

NR: I don’t know. I mean, they definitely have a relationship that is very strong so it’s possible that they will go into that direction, but, then again, they don’t tell me. I’m not really invited in those rooms when they discuss it.

JDM: We all love that relationship, we all love Daryl and Carol, but it’s funny how some scenes you guys do together it’s like brother and sister, some it’s - you reverse roles and one is the parent and one isn’t, and some there’s like a sexual undertone and this attraction, and I think that’s the interesting thing about…

NR: It’s become such a thing that if it happens, people will freak out, and if doesn’t happen people will freak out too. It’s become already such a larger than life situation that I’m afraid to approach the situation, you know what I mean.

JDM: But we all love it. I mean even just as a fan of the show before I was even on it, I loved watching the two of them on the screen, and when they were together in last week’s episode, when they first are reunited… I mean, they work so well together, who doesn’t wanna watch that, and no matter what happens between the two of them, just seeing them together is special.

NR: I get very excited whenever I have a scene with Melissa, and I’m very fortunate just to be on screen with her.

JDM: Yeah, you can tell. I think you both get very excited.

davehause: When my brother Tim was 11 years old, we lost our mom to cancer. It was brutal beyond belief for myself, my dad and our 3 sisters, but even more so for him at such a young age. The only way we got through that ordeal was music. Sharing records, playing guitar, talking about songs was all we could do to bridge our age gap as well as the chasm of sadness.
One of the bands I turned Tim on to at that age was My Chemical Romance. The Loved Ones (my old band) had played some shows with them and they were incredible, channeling Queen and a youthful anger and anxiety into amazing songs and live performances. Frank Iero in particular was a Loved Ones fan, and they were always super supportive and kind to us back then. Tim responded to their music, particularly the Black Parade, and it seemed to be a voice in the wilderness of grief that he could hold on to. (along with the Bouncing Souls, Hot Water Music, and many more). Playing music with my brother for the last 3 years has been one of the most enriching, incredible experiences in my entire life, and the best in my musical career. This tour Tim has gotten to open for and to know Frank and his lovely band, and last night be got to meet all of My Chemical Romance, a band that gave him solace through one of the hardest experiences of life. Much love and respect to these dear souls for helping my kid brother in a profound way.
Music can truly save.
#mychemicalromance

anonymous asked:

would you give some musical recommendations?

Tbh if you haven’t watched Barbie: The Princess and the Pauper idk if u can even call yourself a true musical fan

the scariest thing about mon-el is how realistic he is. how many men/boys do we see attacking woman verbally, and how many of them do we brush off as just boys being boys? we’re socialized to think its normal and a gesture of love for men to “assert their dominance,” to be the keeper of women. 

we accept men like mon-el easily, childish demeanor and all, forgiving his every sin. this happens in real life. girls see this in real life and recognize that mon-el is someone like their brother, the dude down the street, their sister’s boyfriend…

and for supergirl to encourage this, to encourage woman to seek men like mon-el, it’s disgusting. i think about this season, and how they highlighted mon-el as a “lovable cad” who just needed a little guidance, like. this doesn’t always happen in real life. 

these boys with are the boys who will beat the shit out of the dude in your bio class who asked you for a pencil, these are the same boys who will text you a thousand times until they can break you down and then threatens to kill himself when you tell him you want to break up. 

boys like mon-el exist, and they are not good people.

The Signs as “Riverdale” Characters

“From a distance, it presents itself like so many other small towns all over the world. Safe. Decent. Innocent. Get closer, though, and you start seeing the shadows underneath.” 

Veronica Lodge - Aries, Gemini, Capricorn
“Eventually, there will be a reckoning.  Or, maybe, that reckoning is now. And, maybe, that reckoning is me.”, “ You wanted fire? Sorry Cherylbombshell my speciality is ice.”  

Archie Andrews - Taurus, Sagittarius
“You are so perfect. I’ve never been good enough for you. I’ll never be good enough for you.”“ I was born alone, I’ll die alone, and I’ll sing alone. “

Betty Cooper - Cancer, Leo
“I do everything for everyone. Everything to be perfect. The perfect daughter, the perfect sister, the perfect student. Can’t I do this one thing for me?”, “As hot and as smart as you are, you should be the queen bee of this drab hive.”

Jughead Jones - Virgo, Scorpio, Aquarius
“Why don’t we do that bro thing where we nod like douches and mutually suppress our emotions?”, “ We’re all crazy… We’re not our parents. Betty. We’re not our families.”

Cheryl Blossom - Libra, Pisces

“I loved my brother, he was and always will be my soulmate”, “I need girls with fire on my squad.”, “ He protected me. Every single day. I wish, that day at the river, I had protected him.”

something i wish would happen: on their way back home, elias teases sana like he usually does, but she’s not having it. she doesn’t look mad, she doesn’t look annoyed. she just looks tired. and elias notices, finally, because the party is over. but he doesn’t say anything, because it’s not the right time and place. but when they’re home, elias texts her “can i come see you?” and sana replies “ok”. and then elias is knocking on her door and she lets him in, and he asks “alright, what’s up with you?” and sana just shrugs. and elias asks “tonight was fun, no?” and sana says “it was fun for you”. and elias frowns, because it hits him that he hadn’t really seen his sister at the party. and then elias comes to sit on her bed, and he tells her “i’m sorry tonight wasn’t, like, so great for you. you know we can talk. you know i won’t judge. you know that, right?” and sana sighs and nods. because she knows. because her older brother has always been there during the most important moments, all her life

and she tells elias “sometimes i just don’t know where i fit” and elias gives her a small, understanding smile, and then he says “desperate times, desperate measures. or hm, whatever it is they say” and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, squeezes her, and says “you’re going to listen to me now because you’re not going to catch me being this cheesy anytime soon, okay?” and sana rolls her eyes at him, and elias’ smile becomes wider, because that’s typical sana right there, and he hasn’t seen her all night. “you’re the best person i know in this world, and i admire you so much, you and your wisdom and your intelligence and your faith. and, yes, your awesome basketball skills, and taste in music. you’re the best little sister any brother could hope for. you’ll always fit in this house and you’ll always fit in my life. and if someone doesn’t think you fit in theirs, you know what? screw them, they don’t deserve you” 

and sana is smiling now, and she rests her head on her brother’s shoulder and sighs. and elias tells her “okay, but you know the rules right? you can’t quote what i just said against me, like the basketball part and stuff.” and sana shakes her head, little smile still on her face, and she says “elias?” and he goes “hmm?” and she tells him “shut up”. and so elias laughs and squeezes her shoulders one more time

A Babysitting Love Affair | Zach Dempsey x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff
POV: Reader’s/First Person

A/N: This was requested by anon! I hope you guys will like this as much as my first one. I kind of ramble on but please bear with me lol.
Request: could i request a zach dempsey x reader where the reader is babysitting zach’s sister, and zach haven’t met the babysitter yet and one day he goes home early and falls in love with her?

—–

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning Mrs. Dempsey.”

“Alright love, thank you so much!”

I smile as I close the door after Zach’s mom who asked me to babysit Zach’s little sister, May. She mentioned that she will have to go to Chicago for the weekend to take care of something and I was assigned to be May’s companion overnight since her brother is an extremely busy guy. The Dempseys are a close family friend, too bad I’m not really that close with Zach or May. It’s probably because we go to different high schools and it doesn’t really help that I can be anti-social at times. I know nothing about them, and they know nothing about me in return so it’s all good.

—–

The next morning

“I’ll be leaving now or else I’ll miss my flight! Thank you so much again Y/N for babysitting. I’ll see you girls tomorrow morning alright? Feel at home love, my number’s on the fridge if you need me and I left money for any emergency. Zach won’t be here until dinner tonight. He has basketball practice.” Mrs. Dempsey says as she bids goodbye to Zach’s little sister and I.

“Got it Mrs. Dempsey! We’ll see you tomorrow.” I finally say with a smile.

“Bye mom! I’ll be good, I promise!” May puts her right thumb out to her mom and waves goodbye.

“So, what do you want to do today, May?” I ask her as we’re left alone inside the house.

“Hmm, I don’t really have anything in mind. Oh wait I know! Let’s style each other’s hair.” She suggests with a gleam in her eyes; she looked so excited.

“Sure kiddo.” I reply with a smile and we proceed to the living room to watch TV. May got all of her hair accessories from her room for us to use. She decided that it’d be fun to start with my hair first and put them in pigtails and so she did. She chose these pink puffy hair bands to tie my hair. May had long, black and shiny hair which reminded me of Katniss Everdeen so naturally, I chose to put her hair in a fish tail braid.

“Wow Y/N, you’re really good at this!” she beams after her make over.

“Why thank you, Miss Everdeen.” I reply with a bow and she giggles in response.

A couple of hours later and it was almost lunch time. May wanted to order pizza and so we did. She didn’t like vegetables so we opted for a classic cheese pizza instead. A few minutes later and the doorbell rang, I ran to the door to open it, with the money in my left hand.

“Thank you so–” I begin to greet the pizza man but a ginormous, muscular guy hovered above me instead.

Keep reading

Going Up

Word Count: 1033

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Daddy Jensen

A/N: Credit to @impala-dreamer for semi inspiring this. At least the bed break part with a story about how she broke a bed with her husband. I’ll say no more. Leave it to your imaginations. 

Constructive feedback always welcome and appreciated


“I’m back!” You made your way into your house, calling out for Jensen and your daughter. “Ellie! Jay!” No answer. You put the grocery bags in the kitchen and looked around, unable to find them anywhere. Thinking that maybe they fell asleep upstairs you ran up the staircase, making your way down the hall, when you heard your daughter’s giggles.

“Again, Daddy!” She giggled. “Again!”

“Ok, come on. Get back on.” You quietly cracked the door of your bedroom open, peeking inside. Jensen was on his knees on the bed, face down in the covers. Ellie was crawling over and climbing on his neck. As soon as she was on he raised up, grabbing her ankles in his hands. She grabbed his head for balance, a huge smile on her face. “Going up.” Jensen chuckled.

Keep reading

I love all of the “Humans are these weird Space Orcs” and “Earth is Space Australia” posts.

Now it got me thinking about how aliens would react to the number of people who do martial arts. Like, they’d get those who are in the military or police learning hand-to-hand combat, but what about those of us who train for fun? Plus, we have so many different types and styles of martial arts, so you could give a ridiculous variety of ability levels.

Alien: So your sister does the Human Fighting Style of Boxing?

Human: Yeah, and she got my brother into it. They do some MMA training too. They’re really good at getting people to the ground. My sister can get inside opponent’s guard pretty well and my brother has a longer reach for striking.

Alien: *cautiously* Do you do that in your combat training?

Human: Oh me? No. I do something we call Aikido. It’s more self-defensive than aggressive and it’s about using your opponent’s body and momentum against them. It’s physics really.

Alien: And you do this for fun?

Human: Yep. Also, we like talking to the military people we know and comparing notes on what’s useful in different situations we might realistically find ourselves in. Gotta be practical, right?

Alien: Remind me never to pick a fight with a Human!

Human: Oh, don’t worry. Not all of us train in hand-to-hand combat and martial arts when we want to work out.

Brothers and sisters, dearly beloveds. We are gathered here as one. Facing the future as one, whether that future be darkness or light. We do not know, just like we do not know in our lives if we are going to head into darkness or light. But that’s what faith is all about. Even though we don’t know what we’re headed into, we believe that we are headed into something and so we share that today, and the only place I would like to be is here with you. Pan bless you.
—  Merle Highchurch, in The Adventure Zone, The Stolen Century, Chapter 2, absolutely destroying my heart.

There is a door in the history department. It never looks the same twice and is always cracked open when it’s actually there. No one has ever returned through it.

There once was a chemistry major that went through the door. Their friend followed after.

One returned.

One did not.

The story did not begin there though. It began long, long ago, in the tales and songs of ancestors long gone; passed from mother to daughter and father to son. They did not fade through time, starting anew in each beating heart of the family line.

They reached a young girl with olive skin and hair like raven’s wings. Her dark eyes would shine as her grandmother wove the tales by the fireside.

She spoke to the girl of a woman with fiery hair and burning eyes, who spoke with flames and held infernos between her palms. Perhaps that sparked the love in her for all things she should not, and she strove to make the embers dance, like the one with fire in her hands.

Her grandmother knew in her old, wise bones that this child needed the tales more than most. Their family had always been aware, trusting their intuition had never led them wrong.

So when the girl came to Elsewhere, (For where else could she have gone?) Everyone steered clear (The school gave up on roommates before very long.)

Perhaps it was because of her reputation of playing with fire, or perhaps it was simply fate, but her chemistry professor paired her with a boy who loved to play with ice. They became unlikely friends, she with her burning salts and he with his liquid nitrogen.

“Call me Pyrra.” she said.

“Frozone.” He grinned, white teeth gleamed against his dark skin.

He told her of his girlfriend back in Louisiana who was pregnant with his child: “It’s too soon to know the gender yet.” And she would just smile.

She told him of her grandparents and their small, simple home that stood alone on the reservation and of the wild horses that would thunder by.

They knew what everyone would say, how unwise it was to share so much about themselves, but they were chemistry majors—those rarely got taken.

The two were closer then blood and they both forgot one very important fact— being Taken isn’t the only way to Vanish.

It had been an accident. Frozone hadn’t been paying attention. He had forgotten to count the doors, as he stumbled to his history class after a long night in the labs. No one probably would have known if a fellow student hadn’t seen him stepping through the door—too late to stop his fate.

Pyrra was the first one told, the RA’s decided to wait till the end of the term before notifying his family. They knew it was a futile hope, but anything beat having to make that call.

Pyrra wouldn’t accept this though. She gathered up her craft, and armed herself with salts to burn. She dressed herself in her tribe’s garments and war paint on her face—there is power in being claimed—and set off for the history building when the moonless night was at its darkest.

The door gave way before her and she crossed into when; not where, her friend had gone. She travelled far until she found where the Little People were gathered round. They vanished as she drew near, but she was unshaken by this or fear.

“I have come to bargain for my brother of heart.”

“What will you give?” They whispered in reply.

“A story like none other.” She called bravely into the night.

“There is no story to match his fate, for his return we will need something great.”

Pyrra paused before standing straight.

“Then I will take his place.”

“Is this your choice?”

She thought of her grandparents, sitting at home, they had only gotten electricity a few years ago.

She thought of Frozone’s sisters, all so young and alone thriving off their brother’s hope to give them a better home, on the income of the degree the scholarship would to them all. She thought about his girlfriend, who worked two jobs by day, and attended a community college to get her art degree by night. With that her mind was made.

“It is.”

Frozone stumbled in, lost and confused as if it had only been an hour instead of a day. He caught onto what had happened more than quick enough.

“Pyrra, you can’t do this! Please! It’s my mistake to pay.”

“Call my grandmother and ask for my name, give it to your daughter and your debt shall be paid.”

That was all the time they had, before he was gone and she had stayed. The Little Folk drew near her now; intent on Their new pet, but she held up her hand, she wasn’t Theirs quite yet.

“I have another bargain to make.”

“What now?” They grumbled, discontent and bored.

“My story for my freedom, I chose to stay, but not to be yours.”

“Fine.” they hissed “But the bargain is this: you must keep us entertained till dawn or to us you will belong.”

What choice was there left for her to make? The sky was at it darkest—the hour before dawn. But how that hour stretched on and on!

She dared not tell her family’s tales, or sing to Them their songs, so she told them what she had, her science close at hand.

She told them how a star was born and how precious gems became; all the while between her hands she wove the tales with flame.

When that never nearing dawn finally broke upon the sky, They praised her skills, and kept their deals; blessing her all the while.

Fire-tongue they called her; Flame-speaker, They would say. They kissed her eyes and painted her lips, dressing her in flame.

She smiled and simply said, “That is not my name.”

For she had a new name now, one that no one could ever Take, now that she had given her old name away.

Frozone made it back and tried to keep his word. He called her grandmother who patiently greeted him and told him Pyrra’s name, only requesting that in return he send her things and bring his daughter by some day. She waved him off when he explained that the baby was still too small to tell, whether it was female or male.

Years passed and soon it was time to graduate. Everyone assumed that Pyrra’s grandparents came for Frozone. No one expected Pyrra to appear and collect her diploma as if she had been there all along. Then again, no one mentioned how her eyes were embers now or how her hair had turned from raven black to crimson—so she very well may have been.

         A few decades later a new student comes—a chemistry major that loves to play with fire. She wears a white smile; which is near blinding against her dark skin. She claims she came to prove that her father paid his debt. She won’t say anymore than that. But sometimes she would leave the dorm shortly before dawn on moonless nights with a string of fireworks in her hands. She would always return the next morning, humming ancient songs as she wrote an email to her father.

         During her time a new tale whispers its way into campus lore.

It’s breathed into the ears of distraught students—those with the courage to try and reclaim the Taken Ones are the only ones to hear the advice.

“Come to the edge of the woods on a moonless night, just before dawn and set off fireworks of every color—then wait.”

The ones who listen return with tales about a woman in smoldering garments, blazing red hair, and glowing embers for eyes who would test their resolve. To those who passed she would gift them with words or song, depending on their need, she might even gift them with her fire.

Regardless of what you get, it is always enough to get them back.

Except no one can remember what it was she gave them. They could never remember the tale itself, just that she gave them one; the songs she granted would dance just beyond memory’s grasp; the image of a mesmerizing flame leaving a ghostly impression inside their eyelids. There was only one thing anyone remembers her saying.

“My name is Story—”

There is a door in the history department. It never looks the same twice and is always cracked open when it is there. No one has ever returned through it.

There once was a chemistry major that went through the door. His friend followed after.

He returned.

She did not.

“—and I create myself.”

A/N: I know the Gentry come off a little strange in this. It’s mostly because Pyrra is Navajo and thus the stories she knows are of the Little People; but at Elsewhere, the Gentry are for the most part from Great Britain, Ireland and thereabouts. I tried to blend these two cultures. I’m not gunna lie, I didn’t do great. I haven’t done much with Navajo mythology in a long while. I feel it came off pretty shoddy in this. I’m not trying to offend (I’m part native American myself). Also, I love Chemistry but I suck at it which is why I didn’t go as into depth as I would have liked. (My grammar sucks too, so apologies there as well.)

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