#Age 84 and up

[softerhaze]

also i just reduced the YA lifestage in my game by 28 days, so ruthie and jay are about to age up too 😈

[kosmic-arts]

decided to revisit my old redesign of eraqus im happier with it now, but i still hate eraqus' colors; they are impossible to work with

[floofyfluff]

we're in this phase III trial of this thing that is soooooooo cool and i want to talk about it sooooo bad but 1. no. 2. no one will understand me if i do. 3. no.

but its so wild to watch disease processes go from totally untreatable to like. one time novel solution. in half of a lifetime. like from "not only do we not know why this is happening or how to stop it but i can tell you that you're just going to go blind," to "well if you come in and get this done every x weeks actually you will preserve most of your vision" to "actually maybe we can just do this one procedure and the thing that robbed 25% of your family of the ability to read by age 75 will simply not be a problem for you"

[yaoi-goth]

My sib dropped the news on me that next Tuesday we're getting a cat for free from their co-worker, her name is Marley and she's one years old, she apparently loves to cuddle and meows when she doesn't get attention. I love her immensely already ;;w;;

[cursivebloodlines]

011. in the dining room building a home: a gingerbread home! decorate the home and make it one fit for a little gingerbread man. - lydia!

🌙 * ― 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒: 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ( a collection of various settings for drabbles or prompts, or both!) | @overnightheartbeats

011. in the dining room building a home: a gingerbread home! decorate the home and make it one fit for a little gingerbread man.

The first – and last – time Lydia attempted to build a gingerbread house, it had been a catastrophe. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong: the house itself crumbling, pieces not staying together, icing smudged the whole thing and the candy pieces of decoration fell off. Honestly? It had looked like the wolf from the Three Little Pigs story huffed and puffed and blew the silly, little gingerbread house down. It was all so completely unlike Lydia, someone notorious for her perfectionistic ways and meticulous precision. The hours she spent dedicated to it and nothing to show for it. A complete waste of time. And so, she vowed she would never ever waste her time trying to make one again. Never. Ever.

That was… until Aaron suggested trying to build one. Lydia’s face must have said it all, her nose scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed. “Why on earth would I want to waste time doing that when you can buy one that already looks nice enough from the store?” she questioned, a not-so-subtle ploy of trying to wriggle her way out of it. Aaron had gave her a look that said, really? She wondered what else was running through his mind. Maybe something along the lines of, since when does Lydia turn down a challenge? In that moment, she knew there was no way she was escaping it. Even a small smile threatened to worm its way on to her lips. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? He’d said. She looked at him blankly, eyes going distant as she spoke, deadpanned, “The worst thing that can happen?” A dramatic pause. “I’ll show you.” With that, she cleared her throat, picked up her phone and scrolled through until she found the photo from a good few years ago. Without saying anything else, she passed her phone to Aaron, feeling quite triumphant with herself about being determined, not going through that ordeal ever again. Her gaze fixated on him as she watched his reaction, watched as his expression swiftly changed from being puzzled, to curious and morphed into amusement. Brows arched, Lydia mirrored his face, her hands on her hips as she demanded, “What’s so funny?” Trying to conceal the laughter in her voice as she quickly cleared her throat. But she couldn’t keep a straight face for long. The sound of his laugh was contagious, his smile so wonderful and infectious. Even if she had a severe case of Resting Bitch Face, she couldn’t stop herself from cracking. So, now they were both just laughing. 

In the end, he managed to persuade her to take another shot at building a gingerbread house. “The way I see it…it can only go up from here.” Or something along those lines. Some variations of it can’t get any worse. Earning a playful roll of her eyes, but in the end, she conceded. She’d already lost some of her pride and dignity the moment she showed him her poor first attempt. But at least if this one sucked, then they would suck together. But weren’t two heads supposed to be better than one? If it had been with anyone else, she may have disagreed. Having someone under her feet whilst she was trying to concentrate on achieving perfection? Lydia would’ve ushered them away and not-so-politely told them to go away. But nope, he was persistent. They were definitely doing this.

A quick trip to the store to get everything they need, and more just because they may as well since they’re there… and there they were, diving straight into it. Lydia read out the instructions from the recipe she found on Pinterest after tons and tons of scrolling, and they took it in turns to do all that was needed to do. Getting the things out as and when they needed, she was surprised how comfortable and easy it was to adjust, shuffling around each other. It was amazing how he fit in perfectly with her. No awkwardness, no Lydia getting frustrated because something was out of place or not done to her standards - a shocker. It was all very new to her but it didn’t feel new. It was like they’d been doing this forever. Shuffling around, arms occasionally brushing against each other, smiles on their faces all around. Christmas songs faintly played from the stereo, humming along as they made the dough; humming turned into singing as they waited for the gingerbread to break, happily setting up the dining room ready for decorating. She playfully swatted Aaron’s hand when she realised he was slipping the candies meant for decorating their work-in-progress gingerbread house in for a little treat. “Enough of that, we won’t have any for the -” Until he was the one plopping a gumdrop into her mouth - she wasn’t complaining then. Another laugh tumbled from her lips as she chewed it, leaning in to kiss his cheek gently before the timer on her phone beeped. They were ready!

“Now… now is make or break,” Lydia declared when the gingerbread finally cooled. Everything already set out, ready for them to dive straight in. First, to assemble the house. Her mind cast back to her first attempt, how disastrous the whole thing went. It will be better this time. Had to be. The aroma of cinnamon and ginger filled the cosy, festive-filled atmosphere, every inhale made it all the more tempting to just give it all up and dive right in to gobbling it all up. It was like she was waiting with bated breath, any moment it could crumble and fall apart. But Aaron’s extra pair of hands made it all worthwhile. He would help her assemble the little house piece by piece, holding things in place as she brought the next part out. So far, so good. It was like they had all the time in the world, every piece fitting together felt like a gigantic milestone worth celebrating. And at some stage, Lydia definitely cracked out the bottle of wine as incentive to keep them going.

In the end, it was all worth it. She hated to admit defeat but Aaron was right; it did only go up from there. Though, the bar was pretty low to begin with. And sure, maybe it wasn’t her ideal version of perfection but the time spent with him absolutely was. Lydia placed the final piece, the marshmallow snowman outside the newly built gingerbread house before leaning back against him with a content sigh. “We did it. I can’t believe we actually did it.” A beaming smile on her face as she tilted her head to look at him adoringly, before looking right back at their little creation before them. The walls of the house were slightly uneven, a few cracks in the icing revealed glimpses of golden-brown gingerbread underneath, gumdrop windows a little askew, and licorice shingles overlapped on the roof. These imperfections which, any other time would have had Lydia fuming and threatening to smash the whole thing over the kitchen counter, were the magic and beauty of it. Perfectly imperfect. It was magical because it was theirs. It was something they built together, and it was what they had to show for it. A funky yet whimsical-looking gingerbread house. Feeling him nudge her with his elbow, a grin curved Aaron’s face as he passed her something, a brief flicker of confusion etched on to her face as she lowered her gaze to her hands, a laugh leaving her as her fingers traced the ridges of the gingerbread man - or should she say woman? - before her. “Is this supposed to be me? Wow. Impressive. And, that’s funny, actually, because…” Biting her lip to conceal a laugh or give away the reveal. She couldn’t get her head around the fact they had both been doing the same thing without the other knowing. Putting her gingerbread persona to the side, she picked up the version of Aaron she’d secretly made, laughter finally escaping as she passed it to him. “I swear I didn’t steal your idea! We just…clearly have great minds that think alike.” 

In that moment it was inevitable: this was going down as one of the best Christmases Lydia had in a long, long time.

[apricote]

i have officially edited over a 1000 pictures for this legacy lmao ✌️

[yanderenightmare]

L "Lawliet"

rewatched Death Note and just couldn't resist...

TW: strict schooling ig, orphan reader, creepy behavior

gn reader

You were placed in Wammy’s House at an age you don’t remember. To you and most of the orphans here, it’s been your entire lives. Birthdays aren’t celebrated. The days are cold, the residents even colder. There was a time when you’d consider them brothers and sisters, but that’s also long ago now. No one is close to each other in this house.

It’s a rather stale existence with boring conditions unfit for normal children – the solitude, the competition, the games, always a ploy to make each other feel worthless. And for what… more riddles to solve?

You’d long lost interest in proving yourself among the prodigies. When you were given puzzles, you always played with them differently than the rest. They’d tell you to fill out the sheets, and you ended up making origami swans instead.

Looking around at the others, you knew you would never understand them – all blank faces staring into space. They all make you uneasy. You don’t know if it’s you or them that’s missing something, but you recognize it’s a rather pointless question to be begged. 

So you leave your paper flock on the floor and walk away.

You’d started putting the chisel of a black marker to the library books in your spare time – trying to make something else out of the boring pages. Something more palatable than the droning of law and policy you’d already read ten times over.

You had blacked out the word doppelganger when there came a disturbance.

“You had 84% of them right.”

You peeked up from the book, lowering your knees from where you had them tucked close for privacy – sitting on the floor between two bookshelves – a little nook you’d discovered to hide yourself from the rest of the busy readers in the usually crowded library.

It was empty now. Everyone was otherwise busy with the test still.

And yet, a mess of black hair was crouched down in front of you, shadowing his equally dark eyes. He held your swans unfolded in his hands. It was a disturbing sight for some reason – as though he’d dissected their guts. 

“You left 16% unanswered. Most people would test their luck and guess.”

L must have been the least creative alias born in the dull walls of Wammy’s House, and yet, he’s supposed to be the brightest of all those living there. He always finishes your tests early and leaves in favor of his own devices. Much like you, you suppose. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak before.

Suppose it’s only courtesy you pay him the same effort even when what you really want is to tell him to leave you alone…

You narrowed your eyes a bit, looking at him.

You sensed foul play in a game you had no wish to partake in but moved across the board like a sacrificial pawn anyway. That’s how you play these things, after all – never show your cards.

“There’s nothing to guess.” You sigh – despite knowing he already knows all this. “The blanks are trick questions.”

“So you noticed, too?” His eyes are like inkblots – much like those spills you’ve made in your book when you let the marker rest too long. He dropped your papers between you in favor of gripping his knees, leaning forward. “We’re the only ones.”

You purse your lips at his eagerness. You should have played dumb from the start – should have said you swiped the answer sheet from the headmaster’s office. He’d only spoken all but four sentences, and you were already exhausted. Any conversation with any one of your peers was like an interrogation.

“You started folding paper cranes when I was 94% done. Easy logistics would put you 6% ahead of me. But, unlike me, it didn’t seem you were filling out the answer sheets in any hurry. In fact… you seemed bored. And in that case, I’d put you around 16%, no... 18% ahead of me.”

You allowed the following silence to inform him that his ramblings were boring you. But it didn't seem he took the hint – showing no signs he planned on leaving.

Your eyes grew more jaded.

“Paper swans.” You corrected blandly. “You know my alias is Swan.”

You clapped your book together and sighed again.

“And we both know you were finished long before I started folding them.” 

He had a small smile on his face. It looked as if you’d drawn it on with your marker.

“You can state all the percentages in the world to try and confuse me, but your mind games won’t get under my skin for one single simple reason, L…” You got up and brushed off the dust, then walked away while saying, “I’m not interested in playing – not with you or anyone else in this miserable place. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

L watches you leave and taps his lips with his pointer.

Puzzles and answer sheets have bored him for a while. Maybe he ought to play with you instead…

[reasonsforhope]

"Research on a police diversion program implemented in 2014 shows a striking 91% reduction in in-school arrests over less than 10 years.

Across the United States, arrest rates for young people under age 18 have been declining for decades. However, the proportion of youth arrests associated with school incidents has increased.

According to the U.S. Department of Education, K–12 schools referred nearly 230,000 students to law enforcement during the school year that began in 2017. These referrals and the 54,321 reported school-based arrests that same year were mostly for minor misbehavior like marijuana possession, as opposed to more serious offenses like bringing a gun to school.

School-based arrests are one part of the school-to-prison pipeline, through which students—especially Black and Latine students and those with disabilities—are pushed out of their schools and into the legal system.

Getting caught up in the legal system has been linked to negative health, social, and academic outcomes, as well as increased risk for future arrest.

Given these negative consequences, public agencies in states like Connecticut, New York, and Pennsylvania have looked for ways to arrest fewer young people in schools. Philadelphia, in particular, has pioneered a successful effort to divert youth from the legal system.

Philadelphia Police School Diversion Program

In Philadelphia, police department leaders recognized that the city’s school district was its largest source of referrals for youth arrests. To address this issue, then–Deputy Police Commissioner Kevin Bethel developed and implemented a school-based, pre-arrest diversion initiative in partnership with the school district and the city’s department of human services. The program is called the Philadelphia Police School Diversion Program, and it officially launched in May 2014.

Mayor-elect Cherelle Parker named Bethel as her new police commissioner on Nov. 22, 2023.

Since the diversion program began, when police are called to schools in the city for offenses like marijuana possession or disorderly conduct, they cannot arrest the student involved if that student has no pending court case or history of adjudication. In juvenile court, an adjudication is similar to a conviction in criminal court.

Instead of being arrested, the diverted student remains in school, and school personnel decide how to respond to their behavior. For example, they might speak with the student, schedule a meeting with a parent, or suspend the student.

A social worker from the city also contacts the student’s family to arrange a home visit, where they assess youth and family needs. Then, the social worker makes referrals to no-cost community-based services. The student and their family choose whether to attend.

Our team—the Juvenile Justice Research and Reform Lab at Drexel University—evaluated the effectiveness of the diversion program as independent researchers not affiliated with the police department or school district. We published four research articles describing various ways the diversion program affected students, schools, and costs to the city.

Arrests Dropped

In our evaluation of the diversion program’s first five years, we reported that the annual number of school-based arrests in Philadelphia decreased by 84%: from nearly 1,600 in the school year beginning in 2013 to just 251 arrests in the school year beginning in 2018.

Since then, school district data indicates the annual number of school-based arrests in Philadelphia has continued to decline—dropping to just 147 arrests in the school year that began in 2022. That’s a 91% reduction from the year before the program started.

We also investigated the number of serious behavioral incidents recorded in the school district in the program’s first five years. Those fell as well, suggesting that the diversion program effectively reduced school-based arrests without compromising school safety.

Additionally, data showed that city social workers successfully contacted the families of 74% of students diverted through the program during its first five years. Nearly 90% of these families accepted at least one referral to community-based programming, which includes services like academic support, job skill development, and behavioral health counseling...

Long-Term Outcomes

To evaluate a longer follow-up period, we compared the 427 students diverted in the program’s first year to the group of 531 students arrested before the program began. Results showed arrested students were significantly more likely to be arrested again in the following five years...

Finally, a cost-benefit analysis revealed that the program saves taxpayers millions of dollars.

Based on its success in Philadelphia, several other cities and counties across Pennsylvania have begun replicating the Police School Diversion Program. These efforts could further contribute to a nationwide movement to safely keep kids in their communities and out of the legal system."

-via Yes! Magazine, December 5, 2023

[correlance]

Fan Theory: Alastor had a rivalry with Thomas Edison (yes, really) in the 1920s

I originally had a whole theory typed up with lots of evidence for this, but my computer crashed and deleted all of it, so here are some of the basic points of the theory that I came up with:

Alastor grew up in the early 1900s, when the phonograph, invented and sold by Thomas Edison, was the main form of music recording and playing in the United States. Alastor was likely called a "gramophile", or gramophone enthusiast "who eschewed a wife and children to focus on music", as he was an asexual during this era. However, radio started to replace phonographs in the 1920s-1930s, cutting into Edison's profits, to his frustration.

Alastor was a popular radio host in the 1920s-1930s, and was one of the main reasons why people were buying and using radios, instead of Edison's phonographs and records, to play music. If people could listen to music for free on the radio, why would they buy Edison's phonographs? (Alastor was quite smug about this.)

The quality of music on the radio was often better than on Edison's phonographs and recordings, as many radio shows provided live music, which means inviting the band and musicians to play live on-air. It wasn't something that could be mass-produced for profit, also to Edison's consternation.

Alastor's specialty was jazz, a form of music originally "invented by, and for, the phonograph". (He also dabbled in blues as well.)

Unlike Edison and other phonograph and record producers, who were often racist and used what is called "digital blackface" today (i.e. pretending to be Black in recordings, because hiring Black artists over white artists was unthinkable), Alastor was an authentic mixed-race Creole host, though likely "white-passing".

Vox seems to be based, at least somewhat, on Thomas Edison, particularly as Edison didn't just formerly control the music industry with the phonograph, but also the movie industry, with one source stating that 75% of Americans in the 1920s went to the movies "every week". (Edison sold his film studio in 1918.)

Alastor seems to have a special disdain for Vox and his "picture show", all movies and TV shows. My guess is that this came from his disdain for Edison Pictures and the movies vs. radio rivalry.

Edison died at the age of 84 in 1931 from old age and diabetes complications, whereas Alastor was killed in his 30s-40s in 1933.

As an edit, here is Part 2 of this fan theory with a lot more evidence.

[wandafiction]

Just Us - Series List

Y/n is a multimillionaire. Wanda Maximoff is a divorced mum of two twin boys who is trying her best. What happens when their paths cross at a club and Y/n takes Wanda home for the night?

Warnings: This story is an 18+ read, Minors DNI, contains talks and description of Death, Accidents, Injury, Child Loss, Abuse (Physical and Emotional), Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Suggestive themes, Smut (Each Chapter With Themes Explained), Angst (Lots of It), And Some Fluff Thrown in because I felt bad. Top Reader, Bottom Wanda

Each chapter will come with their own warnings.

This is a story that I have put up on my Wattpad and my Ao3 and thought I would share it here for more of you wonderful people. I do hope you enjoy this read. There will be mistakes here and there and maybe some incorrect translations.

So this is an AU story with the MCU characters. So the ages and story lines with be changed and different from that in the movies. 

I will right some history for each character as the story progresses just so ages and other things make sense. 

All the Character's in this are played by their respective actors and certain aspects of the MCU have been added in. But once again its not going to be an alternative marvel story it is a completely different universe. 

I don't own any if the MCU characters.

Master List

Chapter List

Chapter 1 - Yours or Mine

Chapter 2 18+ - First Time

Chapter 3 - How Much

Chapter 4 18+ - Beautiful

Chapter 5 - Accent

Chapter 6 - The Twins

Chapter 7 - Just Add 8

Chapter 8 - Panic Attack

Chapter 9 - Sounds Like A date

Chapter 10 - Happy Tears

Chapter 11 - Twenty Percent

Chapter 12 - Favourite Colour

Chapter 13 - Ex-husbands Clothes

Chapter 14 18+ - Trust is Not Like Candy

Chapter 15 - Morning Bliss

Chapter 16 - Sisterly Advice

Chapter 17 - Lunch Date

Chapter 18 - Not By Blood, By Choice

Chapter 19 18+ - Frozen Peas

Chapter 20 - Scarlet Witch

Chapter 21 - Iron Man

Chapter 22 18+ - Love Language

Chapter 23 - The Friends

Chapter 24 - Hela's Kitchen

Chapter 25 - The Question

Chapter 26 - From Second To First

Chapter 27 - Mr Blue Sky

Chapter 28 - Protective Friend

Chapter 29 - It's Real To Me

Chapter 30 - Pile On

Chapter 31 18+ - Water Fight

Chapter 32 - Head Scratches

Chapter 33 - Billy's Discovery

Chapter 34 - Superhero Trio

Chapter 35 - Pancakes and L Bombs.

Chapter 36 - 10 Out Of 10 Dive

Chapter 37 - Tickle Monster

Chapter 38 - Sarah Stark

Chapter 39 - Love Persevering

Chapter 40 - First Meeting

Chapter 41 - Hear, Listen, Take It In

Chapter 42 - Touch

Chapter 43 - Mockingbird

Chapter 44 - Family

Chapter 45 - Search Party

Chapter 46 - Bowl Of Popcorn

Chapter 47 - Pet Names

Chapter 48 18+ - Trying Something New

Chapter 49 - French Braids

Chapter 50 - Not Taking Advantage

Chapter 51 - To Understand Someone

Chapter 52 - The Row

Chapter 53 18+ - I Need You

Chapter 54 - Your Flaws Are Your Strengths

Chapter 55 18+ - Jealousy

Chapter 56 - I Can't Be Here

Chapter 57 - Stephanie Grace Turner

Chapter 58 - Zak The Waiter

Chapter 59 18+ - Declarations

Chapter 60 - Clingy

Chapter 61 - Triple Chocolate Brownies

Chapter 62 - Watch Me

Chapter 63 - Grown-Up Conversations

Chapter 64 - A+

Chapter 65 18+ - Dynamic

Chapter 66 - You Don't Get It

Chapter 67 - Conditioned

Chapter 68 - Selachimorpha

Chapter 69 - Beed Stroganoff

Chapter 70 - Ruby-Throated Hummingbird

Chapter 71 - Realisations

Chapter 72 - Princess

Chapter 73 - The Talk

Chapter 74 - Black Widow

Chapter 75 - Can I Join You

Chapter 76 - Люли, люли, люленьки

Chapter 77 - Moose

Chapter 78 - Aurora Borealis

Chapter 79 - Calgary

Chapter 80 18+ - Mirror

Chapter 81 - Massage and Important Conversations

Chapter 82 - Banff

Chapter 83 - Strawberries

Chapter 84 - Bayushki Bayu

Chapter 85 - Cookies

Chapter 86 18+ - Control

Chapter 87 - Hyper Puppy

Chapter 88 - Treehouse

Chapter 89 - 312

Chapter 90 - Forgiveness

Chapter 91 18+ - Always Feel Good

Chapter 92 - Your Third Love

Chapter 93 18+ - Daddy

Chapter 94 - Home

Chapter 95 - Stalker

Chapter 96 - Can't Catch A Break

Chapter 97 18+ - Mile High Club

Chapter 98 - Happy

Chapter 99 - Halloween

Chapter 100 - What's In The Box?

Chapter 101 - Hired

Chapter 102 - I've Got You

Chapter 103 - Missed Morning Message

Chapter 104 - Someone I Would Like You To Meet

Chapter 105 - Sis

Chapter 106 - Soulmates

Chapter 107 - Eleos

Chapter 108 - I Called Her Mom

Chapter 109 - Suka

Chapter 110 - How Have I Made It Worse?

Chapter 111 - What Scares You?

Chapter 112 - I Thought I Was Helping

Chapter 113 - What If They Leave?

Chapter 114 - Yelena!

Chapter 115 - Puppy In Training

Chapter 116 - Your Wish Is My Command

Chapter 117 - Morning Sex

Chapter 118 - Safe

Chapter 119 - Work On Yourself

Chapter 120 - Happy Thanksgiving

Chapter 121 - I Hate This

Chapter 122 - To Be A Deer

Chapter 123 - Is Love Enough?

Chapter 124 - Let's Go Out Out

Chapter 125 - Feeling Of Rejection

Chapter 126 - You Should Hate Me

Chapter 127 - You Ready?

Chapter 128 - Pietro

Chapter 129 - Questions And Opinions

Chapter 130 - What Are You Up To?

Chapter 131 - When Pigs Fly

Chapter 132 - Science Lesson

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 84

Amity Park absolutely adores her little ghostling, her little Gatekeeper who was of her own ectoplasm, reborn from her own blood in the center of her new heart. She absolutely adores her baby, practically a newborn, being only a year dead! 

So of course she had to gush and boast about her little phantom to the other city spirits! They all got together to gossip sometimes after all. And both Smallville and Fawcett started to gush about their own little ones back! 

Gosh they should set up a playdate at some point, her little phantom could use some friends in the mortal realm. Well some more friends, three is obviously not enough. Oh, Gotham and Bludhaven have come over as well! It’s a playdate then! 

Now if only each of their world’s timelines were synced up, but at least everyone is around the same age! 

[queerandprochoice]

So I’m about three weeks post-op for my hysterectomy and I’ve been thinking about something a lot lately.

I have O- type blood, meaning I’m a universal blood donor. Anyone can receive my blood, and O- is in constant demand because of this. If there’s no time to blood test in an emergency situation, O- is essential.

I’m nearly 26, and I’ve never donated blood. Why? Because I’ve never been eligible. The guidelines for donation are extremely strict in order to protect both donors and recipients. You have to meet age requirements, weight requirements, sexuality requirements, and can be ineligible because of a host of health conditions, because of certain medications, having new tattoos or piercings, travel to certain areas, etc. You can get turned away for being even slightly anemic.

Blood donations save lives; just one donation can save three people’s lives. It’s relatively quick, mostly painless, and extremely low-risk. But we don’t force anyone to donate; it’s entirely voluntary. If I was required to donate blood as frequently as possible, I theoretically could save a dozen or so people a year, but we don’t do that because that would be a violation of my rights. We don’t force people who are ineligible to donate anyway because it still might save a life. We don’t try and pressure people into donation if they don’t want to. Nobody says “well if you didn’t want to donate blood, you shouldn’t have gotten your blood typed.” There are no fake blood donation clinics that coerce you into donating if you’re ineligible or uninterested. There are no incentives or bribes or remuneration to convince people to donate blood, aside from a juice box and maybe some cookies. We don’t make cis men donate every 56 days, or cis women every 84 days. We don’t let underweight or underage people donate. We don’t deny people certain medications because they might want/have to donate blood. We protect the privacy of blood donors.

Blood donations save lives, but we only allow people to donate under extremely safe and 100% voluntary conditions. Are there some legitimate problems with some of the requirements, especially those related to gender and sexuality? Yeah absolutely, a lot of them are super outdated and homophobic. But the point is that our society values personal choice and bodily autonomy, as well as the health and safety of the donors, over potential lives saved. The same principles of consent and bodily autonomy apply to organ donation. You can’t even remove organs from a corpse to use for transplants unless that person had consented while they were alive.

Before I went into surgery, I also had to sign a consent form that would allow me to receive a blood transfusion if it was necessary.

We don’t allow forced blood or organ donations, and we have pretty stringent requirements for blood donors, because we value safety, consent, and bodily autonomy over quantity of life. And yet, anti-choicers want to force people to undergo pregnancy and birth—a far more dangerous, lengthy, and painful ordeal—because “it’s a life.” A ten year old isn’t old enough to donate blood, but is apparently old enough to carry a pregnancy to term.

It’s pretty fucked up how when it comes to abortion rights, it seems like health and safety, consent, and bodily autonomy suddenly don’t matter anymore.

Also, please consider donating blood if you can.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Old Lovers

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Price x Wife! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, smut, angst, language, old married couple, meet cute, eating out, P in V, dirty talking, kissing, children, blowjob, fingering,

𖤐Summary: The years of husband Price and his wife Y/n

————

————

September 84' (The Meet Cute)

John Price, starting to join the military at the age 18. He didn't want to work in a corporation, he wanted to help his country and help his family.

He sits at the bar with his mates, joking around and drinking. One of his mates was trying to bet John into picking up girls. John wasn't really there for girls, he was just here to have fun and drink with his friends.

Price looks around and sees a girl his age sitting alone, her finger circled the rim of her glass, she looked bored or waiting on someone. She looks at the door hearing the bell ring, but soon looked disappointed when it wasn't who she thought it was.

"Hey, go get her number," his mate says, slinging his arm over Price shoulders.

"What? No, what if she's waiting on someone?"

"She probably is, but have you seen anyone come to her in the last 20 minutes? No. Go talk to her, hot shot," Price's friend encouraged him.

Price downed his drink and slammed the glass on the bar counter, and walking towards her, her chin rested in her palm as he sits next to her.

"Hey," he says.

"Hi," she says back, but looking back at the TV still on the wall.

"You waiting on someone? My mates and I saw you and you've been here close to an hour now...are you waiting for a date?" He asked.

"I am...were you stalking me?"

"N-No, I wasn't sorry, I guess that came out wrong. I've just noticed that...nah, nothing I'll say next will be better," he says.

"Yeah," she turns back to the TV's.

"Sorry, I'll start again. I'm John," he puts his hand out, she looks down at his hand seeing it all scared and calloused and then back at his eyes.

"I'm Y/n."

"Nice to meet you...so...date?"

"He told me around 8, it's almost 9...guess I'm getting stood up."

"No...I'm here...why not hang out with me?"

"And your friends?" Y/n looks passed Price seeing them all hit each other or headlock one another.

"Nah, just me...their...idiots," John says.

Y/n smiles at Price leaning on her knees close to John. He smirks at her as her hands then go to his knees.

"I guess...we can hang out."

-----------

Y/n held a pool stick in her hand and Price leaned over the pool table hitting the Cueball and hitting the triangle of balls till one went into a pocket. He then comes to Y/n his hand going onto her waist.

"Have you ever played pool before?"

"A few times, but I'm never that good," she says.

"Guess, I'm solids," he says, leaning back over the pool table. "I can show you how to play?"

"Thanks," she says as he missed.

She leans over the pool table, Price behind her, his hand on her waist and the other where her hand rested on the pool stick.

"You wanna move the stick back and forth like this, try not to accidently hit the white ball and then...boom..." he says as the white ball hit against hers landing in a pocket. "There you go," he tells her.

They played pool for a little bit going on 3 rounds of it till Price won one, yeah, beginners luck maybe, but Y/n had won two rounds.

"Are you happy you won?" She teased him.

"Very...you wanna...come back to my place, maybe?"

"Sure," she says with a smile on her face and her hands resting on his belt.

"Woah, risky?"

"Not just yet."

----------

Price had Y/n pinned up against the wall of his apartment. He had rented an apartment close to the base he worked on, his hands going up her skirt feeling the lacy panties she was wearing.

He hasn't had sex in a hot minute but he was ready and so was Y/n. He stops and she strips out of her dress.

John smirks seeing her bare breasts on display for him and her hip dips looking sexy, he goes on his knees kissing between her thighs and biting at her soft flesh.

He smirks looking up at her as his hands gripped her ass earning a soft moan from her lips.

"Fuck," he cusses.

He picks her up taking her to his bedroom setting her on his bed and pulling her to the edge pulling her panties off and getting a view of her pussy.

"Holy shit."

"What?" She was scared.

"Oh n-nothing bad...it's been a while since I've done it so," he licks his lips and starts licking between her folds. "And she looks cute," he says talking about her clit.

She tosses her head back and moans, her fingers getting tangled into his short hair.

He groans into making out with her clit. Licking her bud and suckling on it here and there.

"Don't stop," she moans.

"Wasn't planning on it," he says, kissing her clit and licking it. Her head goes back against the mattress, her legs wanting to close around his head.

She was close and Price knew. He then shoves his tongue in and out of her, earning moans from her. Price could feel her squeezing around his tongue he groans when he felt like his tongue might get cut off.

He pulls his togue out and cum leaks from her clit. He smirks licking her clean, but cum kept coming from her.

--------------

90' (Proposal)

Price was messing with the velvet box in his jacket pocket. He was nervous, he was going to propose to Y/n. They've been together for 6 years now, and today was the day he was going to make her his fiancé.

He had asked Y/n to meet him at their place. Their 'place' is a little pond in a park, there was a white bench Y/n and Price had sat on and feed the ducks in the pond for hours, it was one of their most peaceful dates and every now and then would come back to this pond to just talk and that's all Price was going to do was just...talk.

"John," he hears Y/n's soft voice. He looks up and sees her in a cute summer dress.

"You look gorgeous," he says to her.

"Thank you," she says, kissing his lips and sitting with him on the bench. "How come you wanted to meet here? Why not at home?"

"Just...wanted to talk," he says.

"Okay...about what?" She asked him.

"Life...I want to...Y/n I'm gonna be straightforward, I want to spend my life with you, entirety with you, you make me happy ever since the bar where we first met, all dates before, I love you Y/n, you know I do, and I know you love me. I want...to spend my life with you forever. I love you, I want you to have my children, I want to grow old with you, I want everything with you...you make me so, so, fucking happy. When I'm gone on deployment all I think about is you, and how am I going to make it up to you for being gone for so long."

Price then starts to get on one knee back straight pulling the velvet box from his pocket, he opens the box showing off the most beautiful ring she's ever seen before. Her hands cup over her mouth in shock and awe.

"John."

"Y/n L/n...would you please...make me the happiest man of Earth and...marry me?"

"Yes, yes, yes, hundred times yes," she gets off the bench and bends down kissing his lips and he slides the ring on her finger.

"It looks gorgeous on you," he says, kissing her lips again.

----------

2000 (Wedding)

It hasn't been that stressful, all of Price's and Y/n's family took care of all the plans of wedding, whatever they wanted their families would try and do for them.

All Y/n and Price had to do was get their dress and tuxedo.

Y/n was in the bride suite nervous as hell. She was pacing back and forth in the suite, she was biting her thumbnail and the door opened and her mom and step dad.

"What's wrong, honey? Her mom asked.

"I'm just nervous."

"I get it, I was nervous marrying your mom."

"You're not helping, Chris."

"Sorry."

"Honey, we are right in the crowd if you want to stop this."

"I don't want it to stop. I love him, I'm just-I've never been married before, my nerves are just shot...I need a drink."

"Don't drink before you get married," her mom says.

"A shot of vodka."

"No vodka."

"Mom!" Y/n groans.

"We need to get going," Chris says, putting his arm out for Y/n to take. "He's waiting for you."

Chris was always there for Y/n, treating her like his own daughter. Y/n's dad cheated on her mom when she was 4 months pregnant with her. She did everything on her own and once Y/n was born, she met Chris, and he became Y/n's father for her, being a father figure she needed in her life.

Everyone stood up in the crowd and looked at Y/n, she hated that everyone was staring at her but she knows it's for a good reason, Chris's hand landed on hers.

"Everything will be okay."

"I know," she whispers.

Once they made it to the end of the aisle Chris handed Y/n over to John. Y/n's veil was still covering her face and then the Priest started to talk.

"Now do you John Price, take Y/n L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"And Y/n L/n do you take John Price to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"And now with the power invested in me...you may now kiss your bride," Price lifts Y/n's veil exposing her beauty to him, he smiles leaning down and kissing her lips, both families cheered as the veil then draped over Price.

John then picked Y/n up carrying her down the aisle.

-----------

The rest of the night was just a big party for everyone. Everyone dancing having a good time. John and Y/n sat at the Bride and Grooms table looking at everyone dance.

Y/n had changed from her big dress that weighed more than her to a short white dress that was light and stopped at her mid-thigh, Price's hand rested on her smooth thigh pitching at the skin every so often.

Her small hand rested on his as he messes with her.

----------

Price held Y/n against his bare body, they laid on their shared bed, it was soft and comfortable. His tongue grazed her lips, they haven't been off each other since the party. His hands touching her body, her hands resting on his shoulder as they just been making out since they've got home.

"God, you're so hot."

"In what way?" She pushed.

"You know, your body is warm, you tongue is hot, and this," his hand goes between her thighs, she moans throwing her head back. "She's so fucking hot, wet."

"J-John."

"Come on, all we've been doing is making out, I want sex," he says sitting up, putting her legs on either side of his, hands smoothing down her thighs and stomach.

Price leans over her kissing her lips and aligning himself at her entrance slowly pushing into her. She moans into the kiss her legs wrapping around his waist.

He starts to thrust, at a fast pace, she moans and grips his arms leaving nail marks into his skin.

"AH!" She moans.

Price kissed her jaw, and her neck earning soft moans from her, his tips hitting her spot just right, he sits up holding her waist trusting harder and faster into her.

"Fuck," she puts her head back.

"God you make me so fucking horny, it's impossible to comprehend," he says.

He starts going faster making her feel weak under him but she loves him and will do anything for him just the same just the same for her. She grips the pillow behind her head as she feels herself about to come soon.

"God," he moans and then pulls out seeing cum leak from her and his tip.

Y/n sits up and gets on her hands and knees and starts licking his tip. Price put his head back and placed his hand on the back of Y/n's head. She bobs her head up and down as he then starts to gently squeeze her ass and then slowly start to stick two fingers into her.

She moans around his cock, he also groaned when feeling the vibrations around his cock. Price then bucks his hips up, his tip hitting the back of her throat and coming into her mouth.

She moves her mouth and cum leaking from her mouth along with some drool.

"Fuck, you look so fucking hot with my cum in your mouth," he says, cupping her chin to make her look up at him and cum leaking from the corners of her lips.

---------

04' (First Pregnancy)

Y/n hasn't been feeling good for an entire month, she went to her doctor about and told her about a potential pregnancy, but John is away on deployment, and has been for a month, it might have happened before he left.

She never did bring up the fact she was sick to him, so he didn't have to worry about her. She sits on the toilet lid looking at her hands as the pregnancy test laid on the sink. She waited for 10 minutes.

It was 5 for it to developed but she was too afraid to look at it. Her and John haven't talked about kids. She looks at the test, she'll have to look at it at some point.

She gets off the toilet lid and looked down at the pink test.

Positive

After the one she took about 4 more to be certain! And each one came back positive.

She paced around the bedroom as she was making a gift to send to Price. With every test and then a onesie saying "You're gonna be a daddy" on it. But she also was thinking about not telling him, but he'll know.

He'll find out whenever he comes back, seeing her plump in the belly carrying his child.

Fuck it.

---------

A Week Later

"Hey, Lieutenant Price you've got mail, it's from your wife," everyone in the barracks all oh and awe at Price as he gets up and grabs the box from his Captain.

He heads back to his bed, placing the box on his lap and opening it after smiling at your handwriting. He then looks down into the box and smiles seeing what contains. He pulls out a smaller box and opening it seeing the pregnancy tests and then the black onesie with white lettering on it.

"Hey Price, what get?" His mate asked seeing everything. "Holy shit."

"I'm going to be a dad...I'M GOING TO BE A DAD!!" He yells as everyone cheered Price.

------------

2 Months Later

Once Price back home, he stares at the house knowing what contains inside now is his pregnant wife. She's two months pregnant. Price sees the door open and Y/n came out.

"John," he puts everything down and hugs her body.

"Holy shit, honey, you're pregnant!"

"I know," she giggles, she's glad Price isn't upset with her, but how could he? He could never be upset with her. "You're not mad are you?"

"Why would I? When I proposed I said I want you to carry my babies, I'm glad you're carrying my child," he placed his hands on her stomach, it was barely plump. He bends down on his knees close to her stomach.

"Hey baby...it's me your daddy...I can't wait for you to be here, I can't wait to show you so many things, I can't wait for you to either be a boy or a girl, I don't care...I can't wait for you," he kissed her belly.

"Come on, Solider...let's get inside."

----------

9 Months Later

Y/n was in pain, so much of it, she tried to roll on her side but the doctors wouldn't allow her, Price held her hand and could only watch her with sorry eyes as for how much she was in, her head leaned to him and he placed his left hand on the side of her head and kissed her.

"I'm sorry, love, everything will be okay, I promise, you are strong and I am so proud of you, okay?"

"John."

"Yes?"

"Shut up before I rip your tongue out," she says through painful groans. He knows she doesn't mean it but it was still a threat.

"I see the head, one more push, Mrs. Price," Y/n did just that giving a big push. "It's a boy!"

---------

Y/n held her newborn baby boy in her arms, John laid next to her looking at his wife and son.

"You didn't really mean you were gonna rip my tongue out were you?"

"When did I say that?"

"Not too long ago."

"Sorry, honey, must have been just the moment," Y/n says, cupping his chin and kissing his lips. "I didn't mean it," she says.

"Sure...mama is a bit scary sometimes, little Beau," Price says, rubbing his nose and Beau's tiny forehead.

"I'm not scary."

"You can be," he says, kissing Y/n's forehead.

"Nah, I'm not scary, baby," Y/n says holding her baby up and kissed his chubby cheeks.

----------

A few Months later

Price had stayed home from deployment ever since Beau was born. Beau was always stuck to his mom, Y/n could barely put his down for a minute without having to be yelled at by her son asking to be held.

"Hey, don't yell at your mother," Price says as he picks up Beau who was still crying for Y/n.

"John."

"He's such a mamas boy, hey why not ask for daddy, huh? I'm here to," Y/n giggles at Price.

"He's a baby, he doesn't know any better," she says, taking Beau from Price.

"See now he's quiet...those are mine you're laying on," Price says, referencing to Y/n's breasts, Beau has made claim as his pillow, even though they were Price's first.

"My boobs aren't pillows for anyone," she says.

"They were mine first," Price says, leaning closer to Beau.

-----------

September 11' (Price's Promotion to Captain)

Price stood on stage as General Shepherd was promoting him from Lieutenant to Captain. Price has worked so hard to become where he is. He looks into the crowd seeing his wife sitting his with his 7 year old son and 4 year old daughter Iris.

He smiles at his family and continued to stand tall as he was given a metal for his honor, bravery, and one for being Captain of Task Force 141. A new force Price was going to be in charge of which would be an honor for him to do.

After the ceremony Iris came running up to her father. He bends down picking up Iris putting her on his hip and Beau hugged Price's legs.

"I'm so proud of you," Y/n says, placing her hand on Price's chest and kissed his lips.

"Thank you, love," he says.

---------

9:00PM

Once going home all Price wanted to do was celebrate but not by party no, no, not at all.

"AH! AH! J-John wait," Y/n was pinned on her back as Price was trusting fast into her.

"No waiting. I've waiting to do this all fucking day," he growls pinning her hands above her head.

Y/n's legs wrapped around his waist. They weren't young like before, Price was hurting after they did it before Iris came along. His back was hurting along with his legs, he was sore for a while.

"Y-You're going t-to hurt yourself a-again," she says.

"I'm fine, I'm a grown man, I can handle a bit of pain," he says.

"A weeks worth?"

"Less talking more fucking," he growls moving a bit faster.

---------

23' (Beau's Graduation)

Beau had graduated and Y/n was a crying mess and Price stayed strong and Iris...she could careless.

"My baby boy."

"Mom, please."

"Y/n, let the boy breath."

"I'm sorry."

"I'll still be home before I go to Uni."

"I know, I know, it just seemed like yesterday you were just a baby."

"Mom," he groans again.

Beau had picked a college all the way in California...Berkley. Y/n was proud of him, but wished he could have found a college close to home.

--------

2 weeks now, 2 weeks and Beau and his family were in the airport waiting for beau to board his flight. Y/n hasn't let Beau go since they walked passed through the doors.

"Mom."

"Don't you mom me, I'm going to miss you baby."

"I know, but I'll visit, you know I will," Beau looks up at Price.

"You did good kid," he says, messing up Beau's dirty blond hair.

"And you don't put stress on mom and dad," he says to Iris.

"Yeah, yeah, go on before mom changes her mind."

"On what?" Y/n sounded offended.

"To even let him board the plane."

"Sure, bye," Beau says as he waves to his family. Y/n held Price's waist as they watched him go through the gate to his flight.

"I'm gonna miss him."

"I know, love," Price says.

---------

34' (Old Hearts)

Price is sitting on the front porch of his little home, he built for him and Y/n, they were living in Yorkshire now, their kids are grown up, they have 5 grandchildren and they are living happily in the middle of Yorkshire.

Price's eyes were closed listening to the birds and watching the sun fall in the distance. Price had retired after the Military when he was 45, he's close to 70 now, and Y/n was 67.

"John...I made your favorite."

"Shrimp Alfredo?" Price opens his eyes and looks at his wife standing in the door way of their home.

"You know it, come on," Price's back was hurting him that's what he gets for being old and working so hard in the military.

Y/n was giving him a plate as he sat at the table. Price's legs became weak and he couldn't stand up for a long period of time, so he always had to sits as for Y/n she was perfectly fine, even though she was older, she still felt young in her heart.

"Thank you, love," he says, as she leans down to kiss his lips.

"You're welcome," she says.

----------

Price sits on the couch turning the TV on and watching a random show that popped up, pulling the lever on the side of his recliner, he was laid back and his eyes became heavy.

"John, do you want desert?" She asked with a bowl of ice cream in her hands.

"No, thank you, love," he says, moving his hand to her lower back and gently rubbing her back.

"You sure?"

"Yes," he says, giving her a small smile.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked, sitting down on the couch next to his chair.

"I don't know...Beau might know what it is."

"Maybe...speaking of, Iris and Henry are coming over tomorrow with the kids."

"Oh good, haven't seen them in a while," he says, eyes wide open now. Price didn't like Henry, there was something about Henry he didn't like, but could never tell anyone, but he doesn't let it be known to Y/n every now and then.

"I don't like Henry," Price says.

"I know, love, you tell me almost every week," she says, she digs the spoon into the ice cream and brought it to Price's lips which he leans over and takes off the spoon.

"Why don't you?" She asks.

"I'm not sure, I just don't trust him," Price says.

"Is it because he's a scrawny little man?"

"You said it I didn't."

"That's just her type, Price, like how mine is an retired military man," she teased.

"You still have some spark in you after this many years?"

"Just a bit," she teased.

-----------

10:00AM

The next morning Y/n was fixing cookies for her grandchildren, she soon sees a car pull up into the gravel road.

"John! They're here!" She calls wiping her hands and John comes into the living room claiming his chair before his grandkids could, kicking the leg rest up and turning the TV on.

"Hi!" Y/n says.

"Hi, mama," Iris says, hugging her mom and her grandchildren ran passed to go bother John.

"GRANDPA, GRANDPA!!" They yelled. He gives them a smile as Iris and Henry came in.

"Hi, Mr. Price," Henry says, waving and sitting on the couch. Price rolls his eyes and scoffs making his grandchildren laugh.

"Grandpa, can you tell us a story?"

"One from your military years."

"Sure, kiddos," he picks up the youngest which was Avery who looked up to her grandpa and Jake made himself comfortable on the arm of Price's chair.

"How's dad doing?" Iris asked with a glass full of milk and looked at her father in his chair telling his stories to his grandkids.

"His legs are hurting him badly. The doctor said he needs to use a wheelchair or some sort of chair instead on walking without any assistance, but you know your dad, he's stubborn," Y/n says.

"Dad, you need to start using a chair."

"Eh! I'll use one when I'm dead."

"Dad!" She groans. Price plays around too much when it comes to death, he isn't scared of death, that went out the window when he started the military, he realizes he could have died at any moment during his deployments but never has, now that he is older 70 years old, he just expects death to here soon.

"Price, don't say that around your grandchildren."

"Eh! I'm only kidding," he says, waving his hand at the two women.

"Don't you wave me off, John Price," Y/n warns.

"Grandma can be scary sometimes," he tells his grandchildren who just laughed.

-------------

Gone Days

Beau and Iris stared looking down at the two graves in front of them. Seeing their parents names on them and the years they were born to the years they've passed.

Price passed before Y/n and Y/n passed of a broken heart which put her in a depressive state, she was glad to see her family one last before she passed.

Beau placed roses on Y/n's grave which were her favorite and Iris dumped half a bottle of whiskey on her dads grave, before she took a swig and handing it off to her brother to also take a shot in their parents honor.

"Thank you..." Iris says.

"For everything," Beau finishes.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Guarding your name from the fae in folklore

The idea of fae stealing names is quite recent (I’m a big fan of new, modern folklore, x, y), but the idea that you have to guard your name so no one could (supernaturally) us it against you, is definitely a widespread folk belief. However, I’ve never encountered an actual folktale that says the fae or fairies in particular could have power over you if they knew your name. I’ve been looking for one for a long time (and if you know one please let me know!) but so far I’ve only come up with one example. So let's take a look:

The power of names

Like I said, the power of names is an old belief that shows up all over the world. Sometimes it’s linked with naming ceremonies like baptism. Sometimes hiding the name from others (witches, djinns, etc.) is what will protect you, sometimes the name itself will protect you (like being named after a saint or in reverence of a deity or spirit). Edward Clodd published a huge essay in 1898 investigating how widespread this name guarding practice is and how it links to folklore. Which, while obvioulsy dated, certainly gives an impression of how deep this belief goes (Tom Tit Tot; an essay on savage philosophy in folk-tale, Clodd, E., 1898).

Not all folk beliefs show up in folktales though and protagonists who refuse to tell their name are not a staple of European folklore, whether it concerns fae or other entities. In “The Soul Cages”, collected by T. Crofton Croker it’s even quite the opposite, as the protagonist and a firendly merrow deliberately call each other by their full names (Jack Dogherty and Coomara). And for ages I wasn't able to find a story that actually incorporated the belief of guarding your name against fae, until I read that huge essay.

Hiding your name from the fairies

In his book, Clodd mentions a single folktale in which it is mentioned that the fae are trying to learn someone’s real name. Sadly he does not tell it in full, but since it is the only real example of this concept I’ve able to find so far, I will give the full quote:

While these sheets are passing through the press, my friend Mr. W. B. Yeats hands me a letter from an Irish correspondent, who tells of a fairyhaunted old woman living in King's County. Her tormentors, whom she calls the "Fairy Band of Shinrone," come from Tipperary. They pelt her with invisible missiles, hurl abuse at her, and rail against her family, both the dead and the living, until she is driven well-nigh mad. And all this spite is manifested because they cannot find out her name, for if they could learn that, she would be in their power. Sometimes sarcasm or chaff is employed, and a nickname is given her to entrap her into telling her real name, — all which she freely talks about, often with fits of laughter. But the fairies trouble her most at night, coming in through the wall over her bed-head, which is no laughing matter; and then, being a good Protestant, she recites chapters and verses from the Bible to charm them away. And although she has been thus plagued for years, she still holds her own against the "band of Shinrone." (Clodd, 1889, p. 83-84).

This story fits the concept of keeping your name away from malicious fairies so you cannot truly fall under their power perfectly. Sadly I haven’t been able to find this story in Yeats’ own folklore collection, but it fulfills my criteria even so.

What I have been able to find many examples of, however, is the reverse trope. Namely that knowing a fairy’s name will give you power over them. I thought this only showed up in Rumplestiltskin-type stories, but it seems a little more widespread than that. Which is very exciting to me, and merits its own post. So stay tuned.

[cleolinda]

Just for fun, since people kept mentioning that Mattel made a Diahann Carroll doll—it was before 1970, in keeping with the @hotvintagepoll rules, but it was for a TV (not movie) character, nurse and widowed single mother Julia Baker:

NBC changed the title [of the show in development] to “Julia,” and cast young Marc Copage as Julia’s son, Corey Baker. Veteran movie and TV star Lloyd Nolan was given the role of Dr. Morton Chegley, Julia’s employer. The cast was one of the first multiracial ones in American TV history, and it featured black actors in non-servile roles. Rather than playing chauffeurs, maids, cooks, and underlings, the African-American actors in “Julia” broke new territory. Here, they were cast as doctors, professors, health care professionals, and other positions that demanded education and training.

[…]

When asked about her connection with the character, Carroll was of two minds. She acknowledged that the nurse was dreamed up by a white producer and scripted by white writers. Still, she was always proud that she literally changed the complexion of TV. “For many people, ‘Julia’ was a fantasy show. It represented a mutual respect and a friendly work atmosphere that didn’t exist in many places at that time,” Carroll said. “If our show helped to show that that was possible, I’ll take that as an accomplishment to be proud of.”

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / february 8: headphones / word count: 363

James usually climbs the steps to the entrance of the old library as fast as his 84 years allow, he used to be able to run up them two at a time with ease, but things change with age. However, considering that today is a special day, he takes his time to climb the stairs slowly and caress the handrail that has seen him come and go countless times. 

Once inside, he heads straight for the place he has claimed as his own approximately 62 years ago: the poetry section. Oh, but it would be a lie to say that he has had exclusive ownership of it all this time, as only six months ago he was rarely there alone.

James takes a minute to contemplate the large number of poetry books of which he has read practically all while sitting at the table closest to the large window, where "the light bounces and seems to come from you, mon soleil" as a certain person used to tell him. Then he walks the next thirty steps to what has become the most important corner of probably the whole world for James over the last few months. The spines of the books on that shelf are unique and unmistakable. Next to it, there is a table with green headphones that sits just below the hanging portrait of a man with the most beautiful grey eyes James has ever seen in his long life. 

Smiling, he warmly looks at the picture for a long moment before finally sitting down and putting on the green headphones that have become so familiar. When he turns on the player and the voice he loves so much begins to recite the poems he’s heard whispered in his ears so passionately countless times, he can't stop the tears from welling up his eyes. Covering his face with his forearms, he leans over the table and sobs. 

Today would have been their 58th anniversary. 

The poems continue to be read by a soothing voice.

And it is there, beneath the frame engraved "Regulus Potter, 1941 - 2023" and surrounded by the things his star loved most, that James Potter closes his eyes.