#unless it means they have less time for me

[random2908]

I mean... OP is from Australia, I think? As are some of the other commenters? This isn't entirely about the US.

In America, the degree to which this is unadorned truth versus exaggeration depends what you're buying. I expect a sweatshirt to last at least five years of daily wear; however, I don't wash them unless they are visibly dirty or it's been, like, several months. I expect a t-shirt to last about 5 years in rotation where I might wear it once every 2 weeks and wash it regularly. My winter jacket was purchased 16 or 17 years ago (from a random store at the mall) and my fall jacket was purchased 8 years ago (from Kohl's, a mid-range department store), and although my winter jacket doesn't fit all that well anymore, neither jacket is nearing the end of its lifetime. I generally keep 2-4 pairs of jeans in rotation, washing them about monthly, and expect them to last about 3 years. My dad bought me two bed sets from Target (cheap department store) 20 years ago, and for a long time I just alternated between them; the fitted sheet on one of them tore after about 7 years and the other lasted 19 years. (Admittedly, I'm apparently really gentle with all of my possessions, because my electronics, furniture, etc also seem to last relatively long.)

So yeah, some stuff lasts. However.

My jeans that wear through in 3 years, first of all, would wear through in a couple months if I treated them like a child would--I know this with some certainty because I do occasionally tear them at work. Whereas when I was a child in the 80s/90s, my jeans lasted 1-2 years of running around and falling down. And some people have jeans from the 1970s that are still wearable. So yeah, my jeans don't wear out in a season, but they do last at most 1/2 as long, probably a lot less than that, compared to jeans of decades ago. And you can feel that the fabric is much thinner.

I remember in 1998, on a road trip, my mom bought me a t-shirt from a t-shirt stand, for $5, and the material felt completely different. Much softer, much thinner, than any of my other t-shirts. (I was 15, so I'd had a lot of time to learn what a t-shirt should feel like.) But it still said 100% cotton--it wasn't a different material, just a worse construction. These days, it's the other way around: I have exactly one t-shirt with the texture of the ones of my childhood, and all the rest feel like that one cheap shirt. And all but that one t-shirt has ripped on my belt buckle no matter how well I file down any sharp edges, because the shirts are so thin and flimsy. Sure, I usually wear these shirts for about 5-6 years until the holes are bad enough that they aren't presentable. The design has usually all the way worn off by then. But I was still wearing t-shirts from middle school when I was in grad school, and some of them had almost no degradation of the design (luckily when I was in middle school oversize t-shirts were in, so they fit properly when I was a young adult). Also, the t-shirts from my childhood, when they finally wore out when I was an adult, it was because the seams ripped. The t-shirts from my adulthood, when they wear out, it's because holes tear in the fabric itself.

So far I've been mostly talking about all-cotton clothing, except for the sweatshirts, and sometimes the jeans, which are a mix. The synthetic stuff falls apart a lot quicker. I have a dress that I've worn twice, that I washed once (careful of the instructions on the tag) and it's already pilling. Pilling means significant fabric loss, which means its days are number until it's ready to tear.

So yeah, a lot of generic clothing does last longer than people are saying--but some doesn't. And even so, the failure still happens a lot faster than it used to, and the failure points are in different places than they used to be.

I'm so pissed right now. I know that fabric has been declining in quality for a while but I just bought new pajamas from kmart and they are literally see through. Not just through one layer of fabric either; I can see through the leg, that is, through 2 layers of fabric. These aren't clothes. I am not exaggerating when I say that I have strained soup through cheesecloth thicker than these pants. These are men's flannel pajamas, the kind people wear in winter, and they are made if shittier thinner fabric than even the most bargain bin bullshit halloween costumes. This "flannel" feels like plastic and is thinner than a chux wipe. Why is this even for sale.

[llflorence]

Can I convince you to fall for me?

Sequel to Did you just -- kiss me? (Human AU, RatedE)

Inspired by this art by @gahellhimself-blog

“Oh, pshh!” Maggie says as she begins her second mimosa. The fine lines around her mouth have cracked as the face mask dries. “He’s not going to judge your sexual prowess on a little chipped tooth.”

Aziraphale glances around at the stylists. They’re all watching where he and Maggie sit, side by side in the massage chairs with their feet in roiling tubs of hot, soapy water. He just knows he’s being judged.

“It’s not so little anymore,” he complains, quiet enough so only they two can hear. “If you hadn’t talked me into eating that toffee —“

Maggie’s natural falsetto voice gets even higher as she lifts the bottom of Aziraphale’s flute toward his face. “Puh-lease. It’s hardly noticeable. It’s like the dimples on your ass, or the ski-jump nose.”

Aziraphale pushes her hand away and immediately takes offense. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

She laughs. The ladies in the chairs to their right look disapprovingly down long noses. “I only meant that it’s cute!”

Before Aziraphale can protest, Maggie downs the rest of her drink. She leans over, conspiratorially like. “It’s not like he’s going to know you can’t afford the dentist because you have no insurance and can barely make rent without help from your mother. Unless, of course, you tell him.”

Maggie is the nicest, kindest, most generous person Aziraphale knows, which is why she’s his best friend. Still, alcohol does tend to make her brutally honest.

She pats his hand and lifts the glass back to his mouth. If this wasn’t their annual pampering girls' day, he’d have refused. As it is, it’s New Year's Eve morning, and he’s way out of sorts. Maybe she has the right idea.

He finishes the mimosa in two gulps and forces himself to withstand the bittersweet fizzing in his nose and on his tongue. If he’d listened to Muriel and postponed this date until after the holidays, he wouldn’t be so miserable.

Well. He’d be less miserable.

Aziraphale lets Maggie pour him another glass from the chilled carafe in the cooler by her side. By the way things are going, he’s going to need it to make it through her advice for this evening.

“Now. You’ve already hired the Uber, right?” Her pretty, plump cheeks are quite pink.

“Yes,” he sighs. “But I can’t even pay for this spa treatment. I don’t know how I’m going to pay down the credit cards —“

“Think of it this way,” she interrupts, swirling her glass and staring off into the distance. The windows are dripping with condensation, obscuring the view of the street. “If you drive Ruby, you’ll be obligated to go take her home, won’t you? This way your handsome devil will have to drive you to his place.”

Aziraphale hasn’t told her about the text messages. He’s certain that Anthony has it in the stars to bring Aziraphale home. The man just doesn’t know what to expect.

(He thinks of Ruby where she’s parked on the street outside his apartment. Two-hundred-and-forty-thousand miles and the Subaru hasn’t failed him yet.)

“Yeah,” he grumps. “And when we get there and I drop my trousers, and all I have to offer is soft-serve ice cream —“

Maggie laughs again. A good-sized splash of orange juice and champagne spills on her sweater. “At our age, that’s the least of our worries!”

Aziraphale is pretty sure she’s never had to deal with a limp dick her entire life.

“This coming from a fifty-one-year-old lesbian whose pleasure button is on the outside .”

This time, the whole row of massage chair inhabitants turns to look at them, from both sides. Aziraphale quickly hides his face in his drink.

Maggie, however, doesn’t get the hint. Her volume is way past annoying, heading for indecent. “Maybe you fifty-one-and-a-half-year-old gays should try using your fingers. Or, better yet, your mouth .”

Mimosa sprays all over Aziraphale’s lap, soiling his clean pants and dribbling down his chin. At least he hasn’t choked this time.

Felicia, his stylist, brings him a towel. There’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “About ten minutes left on the timer. You two need anything?”

Maggie needs nothing, of course. “But Aziraphale is going to need his chest waxed. I’m paying.”

“Aziraphale most certainly does not need his chest waxed!” he says, horrified. Felicia shares a wink with Maggie, and he groans at their sudden partnership.

“Come on!” Maggie pleads. She swishes her feet in the bath and bats her long eyelashes. “Don’t you think you shouldn’t leave anything to chance? Second time around and all?”

His stylist’s eyebrows rise as she lifts and checks under his mud mask. “Got a date, have we?”

Aziraphale closes his eyes and wishes he were anywhere else.

“It’s so romantic,” Maggie coos, and he knows she’s about to tell the whole tale. He inhales deeply and beats her to it.

“A friend of mine and I reconnected after fifteen years. I’m attending as his guest at a New Year’s Eve party tonight.”

Felicia knows Aziraphale almost as well as Maggie, seeing as he subscribes to therapy via hair and skin care. She eyes him head to foot and runs her tongue along the inside of her mouth. “Keep the hairy chest,” she nods. “Run some of that conditioner I gave you last time through it. You’ll thank me. So will he.”

Aziraphale takes her advice as he stands in the shower under what can only be called a ‘stream.’ It’s more like a slow drizzle; he’s called the landlord three times about the clogged shower head. And the busted lightbulb inside the fridge. And the window that’s stuck open in the kitchen. It’s getting to the point where he’s just going to fix things himself. That is, if he knew how.

He waits as long as he can, until goosebumps form on his arms and he’s procrastinated enough. He’s about as clean as he can be, and he’s done everything possible to make himself presentable. Nothing he can do about the tooth, of course.

Aziraphale shaves and dresses and paces in the kitchen as he waits for his ride. The new cufflinks from Muriel look out of place with his not-so-new shirt and suit coat. But at least he’s not wearing something rented; he could never live with himself if he did that.

He smooths out his tie and glances at the phone lying on the kitchen counter. There have been no text messages all day from him. Aziraphale knows it’s because he’s busy. Today was the day Anthony was scheduled to finish up on that very personal business he mentioned last week. And that was none of Aziraphale’s business.

The phone lights up, vibrating as a call comes through. It’s Muriel, and he considers not answering it. They’re probably ringing with more advice. As if he’s not already horribly embarrassed about the whole thing.

“Hey, Dad,” they say, bright and cheery as usual. “Just calling to wish you good luck.”

Aziraphale tries to smile so that it will show up in his voice. “Thanks, Dear. It’s really going to be f –”

“If it’s like, really bad, remember you can call me and I’ll pick you up. Just like you always offered for me.”

It’s going to be a long, long night, he thinks.

The Uber driver sends him a text from the street, and Aziraphale says goodbye to his offspring. He collects his long wool coat, hat, and mittens, and almost forgets the scarf as he pulls the door shut. It gets stuck in the door as he climbs inside, but Aziraphale doesn’t realize it. He’s too busy trying to make his hands stop shaking long enough to send a text.

To Anthony J. Crowley.

On my way! 

It’s a short drive through the busy part of downtown. Traffic is horrendous, and Aziraphale watches the time as his ride is forced to slow down to allow revelers to cross the streets. At this rate, he’ll be fifteen to twenty minutes late. Not the first impression he wishes to make, especially if Anthony relates punctuality to sex.

Sex is all Aziraphale can think about. In a matter of days, he’s become obsessed. He worries about how he smells, how he’ll taste, whether he should eat or be eaten. It ramps him up so high that he can’t focus on everyday things, like remembering to turn the dryer on after throwing wet clothes in. Or bringing the garbage and the recycling out to the cans.

So when the car pulls up to a swanky hotel, all lit up like a Christmas tree, he’s adjusting his dick inside the new underwear he bought himself as a gift. He makes the mistake of feeling the tip for wetness, which, of course, is right there. And, god, he hopes it isn’t leaking through to make a dark spot on the front of his trousers.

He pays and thanks the driver, opening the door to find the end of his scarf coated with brown, sandy slush. It’s dripping like mad as he lifts it off the ground, as he tries to close the car door and not step in the salty, puddled mess next to the curb.

The night has already begun with a failure, as he slips on the sidewalk and loses his balance. He closes his eyes as he sees very clearly what is about to happen. He’s going to land on his ass and ruin his night.

But the fall doesn’t happen. Instead, he is rescued. He is rescued by a tall, dark, devastatingly handsome man dressed in a familiar Santa cap. Gold-brown eyes twinkle down at him, and Aziraphale feels his breath catch in his throat. 

“Oh!” he manages, shocked and thrilled and a hundred other emotions all at once. Anthony has both hands firmly under Aziraphale’s elbows. And he’s smiling.

He’s smiling.

“See,” he begins, voice six shades of seductive as he steadies Aziraphale on his feet. “I thought maybe I could eventually convince you to fall for me, but this is ridiculous.”

Read on AO3

[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Hyperbole

Hyperbole

An intentional exaggeration or an exaggerated statement that isn’t meant to be taken literally.

Typically used to make writing and speech more exciting using exaggeration. An imaginative hyperbole can capture the attention of a reader or listener as they analyze the hyperbole to understand the user’s actual meaning.

Examples of Hyperbole

Jim fell off the roof and broke every bone in his body.

Don’t touch that hive unless you want to deal with a million angry bees.

We looked forever for the remote but couldn’t find it.

My sister will eat anything.

The whole world was against me, but I managed to complete the report on time.

That comment is the dumbest thing anyone has ever said.

My mom keeps checking up on me every five seconds.

The explosion was loud enough to wake the dead.

I told him a billion times to keep the window closed.

My dad will kill me if he finds out I failed my math test.

That house is older than the dinosaurs.

The TV weighed a ton, so I had to drag it across the room.

Our grandma was the smartest person who ever lived.

The star running back is a bulldozer who destroys anything in his path.

I was sweating buckets while working outside today.

We live in Dallas, and my brother lives a million miles away in Toronto.

Hurry up and hand me the scissors before I die of old age.

The clowns had the entire audience dying with laughter.

She’s been working nonstop on her new painting.

My job is so easy that a monkey could do it.

Our daughter is a little angel.

The smell was so bad it would’ve downed a bull elephant.

Gaston is stronger than 10 men and has a smile that lights up the room.

Since she got sick and stopped eating, my cat has been nothing but skin and bones.

Hyperbole is an example of a rhetorical device.

Typically, a rhetorical device is defined as a technique or word construction that a speaker or writer uses to win an audience to their side, either while trying to persuade them to do something or trying to win an argument.

In the case of hyperbole specifically, exaggerated language can give an audience a sense of scale. For example, hyperbole can be used to imply an issue a speaker supports is very important or be used to imply an issue a speaker opposes is unimportant or dangerous.

At the same time, hyperbole can help establish a rapport with an audience, as it’s often seen as an example of less formal language.

it is important not to confuse or mislead an audience.

It should be clear whether or not a statement is a hyperbole.

A good practice is to use extreme embellishment or impossible feats in your hyperbole to make it abundantly clear that you are exaggerating. For example:

Ambiguous hyperbole: There are twenty cats in the barn. (A possible event.)

Clear hyperbole: There are a billion cats in the barn. (An impossible exaggeration.)

In formal writing and serious situations, hyperbole must be used sparingly and effectively.

Because hyperbole is often viewed as less formal, it may come across as inappropriate or make the user seem as though they aren’t serious.

When an audience expects accurate information or hard facts, hyperbole can give the impression that the speaker doesn’t have the information the audience wants or is intentionally concealing it from them.

Ill-timed use of hyperbole like this can damage the speaker’s credibility or weaken their influence over their audience.

Literary Examples of Hyperbole

His horses are the finest and strongest that I have ever seen, they are whiter than snow and fleeter than any wind that blows. —Iliad by Homer (7th/8th century BCE)

Nor was Stubb the only banqueter on whale’s flesh that night. Mingling their mumblings with his own mastications, thousands on thousands of sharks, swarming round the dead leviathan, smackingly feasted on its fatness. —Moby Dick by Herman Melville (1851)

It surprised me that what before was desert and gloomy should now bloom with the most beautiful flowers and verdure. My senses were gratified and refreshed by a thousand scents of delight and a thousand sights of beauty. —Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (1818)

Sources ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[mxrcurysb1tch]

🍸🦎Astrology placement observations pt 2.🦎🍸

Disclaimer: these are my observations based on people I know irl and resources I have found. If you don’t agree you’re entitled to that opinion but don’t come at me xo

☿ In my experience, there are 2 kinds of libra moons. The kind that is kind of cartoon character-ish. Bubbly, fun, very sociable. Kind of exaggerated in their expressiveness. The kind that is bubbling with positive energy and could not hide their emotions if they tried. Then there is the other kind that is not talked about so much. These are much more introverted and harmonious. I would say they are equally likeable as the typical presentation of libra moons but they either don't care to have as many friends or just keep to themselves more. They have a much softer, sensual vibe kind of like taurus or cancer in a way. They are fairly in-tune with their emotions, albeit in a pretty detached, intellectual way. They tend to be quieter but still have a very pleasing aura to be around. One thing I will say that is pretty common with all Libra moons is that although they are pretty romantic, they are rarely satisfied with committing to one partner and will have many relationships or flings throughout their young adulthood as they want to experience the many facets that the dating world has to offer.

☿ An Aries/libra interception in the placidus chart can create great struggles with the self and relating to others. They struggle to express and assert themselves, and with having clearly defined boundaries between themselves and others. Usually, in childhood they struggle most in relationships with other people and may be unintuitive with social cues even if they desperately want to be accepted and have friends. This is not as apparent into adulthood as they have likely learnt, through trial and error, how to make friends and be liked. Although this is not usually through conventional means of intuition and more through an intellectual stance. Whereas in childhood they may have had a stronger sense of self, in adulthood this starts to suffer more. I think a desperate questioning of the self in an attempt to find what distinguishes them from other people and makes them uniquely "themselves" is common. These individuals can be susceptible to people pleasing tendencies as they can sometimes feel like whenever they try to assert themselves it is taken the wrong way and so they have to appease everyone and say exactly what others want to hear in order to be accepted. It is a delicate balance between selfishness and selflessness that they have to achieve.

☿ Pisces moons are a lot more grounded than people give them credit for. They usually have pretty solid ambitions and they don’t waste time striving for them. They are full of optimistic energy so they don’t have a problem with believing they are capable of achieving whatever it is they want. They approach life with a very “go with the flow” attitude. And it is precisely this attitude that allows them to easily succeed as they are pretty much okay with anything that comes along in the material world. They are also usually pretty good at a lot of different things.

☿ Venus retrograde in the natal chart can struggle with self-care and believing they are worth being cared for. They may either be less interested in romantic relationships or they can have tumultuous love lives, unless venus is well aspected. This is because they might believe they should just put up with unkind behaviour simply because they love someone. They tend to either have many different romantic relationships or stay in the same one for years and years even at a very young age. They can be pretty messy even dirty sometimes and have a boring or unconventional aesthetic style. They may be less adventurous in artistic pursuits than most people. They can be prone to copying others aesthetically as they are unsure how to express this part of themselves externally.

☿ Virgo mercuries are usually very direct and even a bit bossy in communication but even so, it is usually well received by other people as they do it in a way that is inoffensive and kind of playful. This kind of approach may not be pulled off so well by other mercury signs.

☿ Sagittarius moons and mercuries are great conversationalists. They are very funny and can strike up a conversation with anyone about anything. Sag moons especially appreciate a good sense of humor and can bring out the funny side of people. They can seem a bit tiresome at times as their propensity to debate from even sides they don’t even necessarily agree with can be grating. They don’t do this to be annoying though, they’re simply interested in finding out about how people think and stretching an argument to its limits in order to confirm or deny its validity.

Merry Christmas! X

[demon-country]

This scene is so interesting to me for a number of reasons, but I want to talk about the eggs and how he said he finds them "off-putting". Now, Stolas is an owl, and like most birds of prey they can and often do eat the eggs of other birds (don't worry Blitz, it isn't cannibalism unless they eat eggs of their own species). So theoretically, eggs shouldn't actually be a problem and it's not like there aren't plenty of fancy foods that involve eggs.

But maybe it's not that deep, and has nothing to do with non-gourmet quality food. Maybe our heavily autistic-coded owl just has an aversion to a lot of breakfast foods. The texture of various types of cooked eggs, in particular, can be quite contentious even for people who aren't neurodivergent, but if you do have texture sensitivities then eggs can be a huge gamble.

The expression on his face in the shot above is exactly the one I'd make if someone tried to make me eat most egg-based dishes, and then I'd probably gag the second it was in my mouth, spit it out, and shudder through the visceral desire to claw my way out of my own skin.

Yeah, kinda like that lol.

Rodents, koi fish, and kale salads are probably safer foods, because there's less ways to cook them and he had a professional chef that would be able to do it the exact same way every time. They definitely are more expensive specialty foods though, so I'm glad he and Blitz were able to find a compromise with regular rats.

And I'm glad that Blitz didn't try to shame Stolas for his food preferences, especially because Stolas looks so awkward and embarrassed just saying them out loud. If he's anything like a lot of autistic folks, he was probably berated for being a picky eater, because even if in his own home with his own staff he could control what was served to him, the same cannot be said for anywhere else that required him to eat something lest he come off as rude. Blitz just takes it in stride though and simply asks about alternatives to vole and kale, because he definitely cannot afford that on a regular basis. And Stolas doesn't make a fuss about it, just tentatively admits that he also likes rats, which Blitz is more than happy to accommodate. Yes, what he offers is back alley feral rats, but Stolas doesn't seem put off by that or demand better quality, he's just alarmed and disturbed by Blitz having his fucking eye chewed on by one.

As someone with a lot of food hypersensitivities, it means a lot to me that Blitz doesn't accuse him of being spoiled or complain about Stolas needing a different diet than him or Loona. It often is hard to accommodate alternative dietary needs - be they because of food sensitivities, allergies, intolerances, or vegan/vegetarianism - when you're on a budget, but Blitz doesn't mind and jumps straight to a non-judgmental "what can you eat?" planning mode.

Like yeah, on the surface his answer to Blitz's initial "so what do you normally eat?" question and the way he gagged from a single, tiny bite of eggs does make him seem kinda spoiled. But his completely unhesitant, unbothered willingness to eat feral fucking rats says to me it wasn't about the fact that he now has to eat "poor people" food prepared by a novice chef, but rather that something about those foods in particular is hard for him to eat in general.

Just one more thing to add to the ever-growing pile of "Stolas is autistic!!" evidence, I guess. And just one more reason why I absolutely adore Blitz.

[rdng1230]

Sorry op, you awoke the writing demon and it must be satiated.

—-

Sal groans into his whiskey, silently asking god why he sent him such an idiotic best friend with it seems, an equally stupid ex boyfriend.

"You asked him to move in with you? Buckley I thought he said you were smart."

Buck can't help the sad smile that invades his face. "He really said that??"

Sal ignores him, tapping on the bar like he's Columbo laying out a case. "So tell me if I got something wrong here. He kisses you, you go on a date, you pull the no homo routine, ask him for coffee, invite him to your sister's wedding, fucking insane by the way, you spend the next what, 5 or so months happy as clams not asking any deeper questions at all and you think you can just jump into cohabitating with a smile and a Stonewall Spiel?"

Sal straightens up and turns to face Buckley full on. "No foolin, is there an actual goddamn gas leak in your apartment?"

Buck stares back at him sheepishly, either shame or booze flooding his cheeks red. "I may have skipped a few steps."

"Boy you skipped so many steps you took an elevator."

Buck bites the inside of his cheek. "Tommy always made your pep talks sound like, you know, actual pep talks."

Sal takes another sip of his drink and signals for another. "Here's the thing I think you've failed to grasp about ole Tommy Boy. There is nothing more baffling to him than a compliment."

The younger man's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"

And this time Sal actually looks sad. Really sad. "I've been his friend for longer than either of us care to remember. I have seen the best and worst of him and I love him more than anyone apart from my girls. I haven't always been good at showing it, but he is my family."

Sal stares at Buck with a strange mixture of vulnerability and laying down a challenge. One Buck desperately hopes he can meet.

"The only thing I would change about Tommy Kinard is that he would believe me when I tell him that. Would believe anyone when they tell him things like that."

Buck reaches out without thinking to grab Sal's shoulder, and surprisingly the old grump doesn't recoil. Buck can't really say Sal and him are friends. In fact they may be far too similar to ever be friends. But Sal wants nothing but the best for Tommy, and for that, they're on the same team.

"The truth is kid, Tommy has a knack for picking roads he knows are dead ends. He was ready to ride the thing with you till the fucking wheels fell off, but he never expects anyone to stick around. There's nothing scarier to him than potential. To him that's the same thing as loss. And believe me, he's lost enough."

Buck stares at the foggy bar mirror. If he wasn't on his second whiskey, Sal would have made an excellent Roman Centurion. Stalwart and intimidating against anyone who would wish harm to the things he cares about. It's probably what makes him such a good Captain.

"How do I make him believe that he's not gonna lose me? How do I convince him that I want to stay."

Sal gives him a sympathetic glance. "I don't know if he'll ever believe it fully. But the best advice I can offer? Stay anyway. Love him anyway. But you gotta love the real him this time, and believe me he will fight you every step of the way on that."

Buck nods sincerely, his whole body singing at the idea of even seeing Tommy, much less being with him. "I'd fight forever if it means getting him back."

Sal grimaces and juts his chin toward the door. "Get the hell out of here and go get your man Buckley, Unless you wanna gimme a toothache on top of this hangover."

Buck grins, tossing a wad of cash on the counter and gunning it for the exit.

Sal goes up to Buck in a badge and ladder bar and asks him what the FUCK did he do to Tommy

And Buck is taken aback and looks so confused as he replies that Tommy's the one who broke up with him?

And Sal juat goes cool, that doesn't answer my fucking question. What the fuck did you do to him?

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

the writing fanfic to "huh? this doesn't seem like how romance is normally written" to "am i somewhere on the aro spectrum" to "oh god the reason i dont identify w the generic aro label is bc i need a microlabel" to "fuck i need to rewrite this whole fic" pipeline

[budd-ie]

“Mu Qing is too logical for his own good” is such a real problem that he deals with and as tragic as it makes his life I also think it’s really funny when someone is accusing him of something and instead of telling them to shut up or leave him alone the first thing he does is pull out the 95 fucking theses detailing every single thing wrong with their argument WITH historical evidence and additional considerations from scholarly psychology articles, MLA format works cited and completely annotated. It could use an editor and some bias correction, but he actually makes a pretty good point. anyways tgcf ace attorney au when

[deoidesign]

.

[wulfdreaded]

"you're  overestimatin'  how  many  of  my  kind  are  still  out  there.  not  all  of  them  get  the  treatment  little  rory  does."  none  of  them,  actually.  he  bit  them,  the  turned  them,  he  let  them  loose  to  wreak  havoc.  sometimes  he  stayed  around  to  watch.  the  one  time  before  rory  that  zeke  actually  stuck  around  to  someone  he  turned...  didn't  go  well.  not  because  of  zeke  sticking  around,  but  because  of  weak  human  mental  strength.  "brothers?  pfhhh."  did  he  mean  the  piggies?  they  wouldn't  harm  a  fly,  though  zeke  wouldn't  mind  getting  his  revenge  on  them.  were  they  still  around?  maybe  he'd  have  a  little  look  around  the  forest,  do  some...  reconnecting.  but  vilem  should  know  that  the  forest  was  most  likely  the  safest  place  for  the  wolf  -  what  didn't  succeed  in  killing  him  in  all  these  years  wouldn't  start  winning  now.  even  if  someone  managed  to  surprise  him,  he  wasn't  helpless.  unless  the  old  farmer  was  involved  it  seemed.  until  this  day  &  most  likely  for  the  rest  of  his  life,  zeke  would  refuse  to  accept  that  vilem  -  the  old  grumpy  monster  hating  farmer,  would've  reacted  differently  if  zeke  told  him  beforehand.  did  he  have  explicit  proof?  obviously  not,  because  he  couldn't  turn  back  time,  but  still.  he  was  pretty  damn  sure.  they  ....time  they  spent  had  been  good,  at  least  he  thought  so  at  the  time  &  it  hadn't  been  enough  to  keep  him  in  that  bed.  it  was  in  the  past  now,  so  there  was  that.  "oh."  .....wait,  what?  he  would  have...  awkward  little  shift,  hand  brushing  through  his  hair,  "...now  you  know."  but  before  he  could  elaborate  &  make  this  worse,  vilem  to  the  rescue.  "i'm  not  turnin'  that  many  people.  besides,  i  was  born.  my  mother  was  a  wolf,  you  know?  not  a  lot  of  those  left,  even  less  with  human  infatuations."  little  shrug.  there  was  always  him,  but  even  if  ...  zeke  didn't  see  himself  falling  for  a  wolf  any  time  soon.  "yes,  i  feel  like  i  deserve  that  after  helping  you  out  so  much."  half  joke.  maybe.  although,  he  wouldn't  mind  being  pet  while  he  fell  asleep.  who  would?  nobody.  didn't  help  that  while  tending  to  the  animals  -  the  kind  that  was  important  to  vilem,  unlike  the  beast  he  sent  to  care  for  them,  zeke  couldn't  stop  thinking  about  the  old  farmer.  soft  him  on  his  lips,  his  rough,  calloused  fingers  in  his  hair  or  against  his  face.  so  when  they  came  together  again,  he  wasn't  quite  sure  how  to  take  it  from  there  until,  well...  you  can  wait  here  for  rory.  right.  he  was  allowed  here  ...  to  help  rory.  "don't  need  a  basket,  keep  it."  shaking  his  head  a  little,  he  sighed  softly.  "you  want  me  to  wait  outside?"

"careful  what  you  wish  for.  if  a  big  enough  group  bands  together,  you  might  have  some  actual  trouble  on  your  hands.  not  that  you're  going  around  seeking  trouble,  but  if  i  was  a  part  of  a  trio  of  brothers  that  you  attacked  i  might  be  cooking  something  up."  if  the  brothers  come  knocking  on  his  door,  he'll  actually  tell  them  to  leave  him  alone.  no  zeke  meant  no  help  for  rory.  the  old  man  certaintly  doesn't  know  how  to  raise  or  help  a  young  wolf  all  by  his  lonesome. 

he  needs  zeke. 

vilem  tilts  his  head  as  he  thinks  about  it.  on  one  hand,  it's  unfair  because  he  has  all  of  the  knowledge  that  he's  gained  years  later.  on  the  other  hand,  he  remembers  being  really  aroused  by  the  wolf  and  that  beating  out  any  other  sense  of  logic.  if  he  had  told  him  in  the  heat  of  the  moment,  during  foreplay,  perhaps  he  wouldn't  have  cared  too  much.  once  his  dick  is  hard  he  needs  to  release  somehow.  whether  it's  in  a  monster  or  human.  the  weakness  of  being  human!  “we'll  never  know.  i  never  got  the  chance  to  react  to  it  until  after  we  had  already,  well,  you  know.  there's  no  use  in  revisiting  that  anyway.  maybe  i  would've  just  fucked  you  harder  since  i  know  that  you  can  handle  it.”  he  chuckles  softly,  a  snort  slipping  through  his  lips  but  being  quieted  as  much  as  possible.  zeke's  right,  it  shouldn't  matter.  still,  the  farmer  has  his  faults  just  like  everyone  else.  “but  it  does.”  he  nods  a  bit,  not  wanting  to  get  in  between  the  man  and  his  respect.  “do  you  ever  think  there's  going  to  be  another,  at  least  in  these  parts?  maybe  someone  you  turn  is  going  to  be  even  bigger  and  badder  than  you  are.”  although  he's  really  not  interested  in  being  around  long  enough  to  see  that,  he  still  ponders  that  every  now  and  then.  “do  you  want  me  to  comb  my  fingers  through  your  hair  while  i  lay  you  down  on  a  couple  of  blankets?”  again,  another  half  joke.  apparently,  since  vilem  can't  talk  to  the  animals  nor  the  crops  his  part  is  quite  easy.  as  much  as  he  can  see,  they're  all  alright,  so  he  just  cuts  down  some  of  the  ones  that  are  good  for  picking.  there's  some  evening  primrose,  tobacco  leaves,  night  phlox,  and  moonflower  that  smell  just  good  enough  to  pick.  the  farmer  puts  them  all  in  the  basket  before  moving  over  to  the  fruits  and  vegetables.  some  corn,  broccoli,  tomatoes,  strawberries,  grapes,  and  peaches  are  also  ready.  he  brings  the  basket  back  and  notices  that  zeke  is  all  wrapped  up  too.  “if  you  think  i'm  picky  and  needy,  you  haven't  seen  the  half  of  it  yet  on  the  farm.  i'm  done  with  the  crops  though.”  vilem  leans  the  basket  over,  showing  it  to  zeke.  “thank  you  for  your  help.  do  you  want  me  to  make  a  little  basket  for  you?”  does  a  wolf  even  eat  fruit  or  vegetables?  “you  can  just  wait  here  for  rory.  it's  getting  late.” 

[silusvesuius]

n*loth not being able to bag anyone over the (human term) age of 25-30 at most is the only logical and real conclusion to me because it can be just explained away as him wanting to prove and control everything and anyone (Cus he's a man!) but being stuck in that demographic because his unbearable and vile personality is a force that nobody can look past once they've outgrown the possible fear and idolization period of anyone but also n*loth in particular.

[bucket-puns]

Knight Zwei West Ishmael on- your house actually, pay up.

[queervegancryptid]

What's funny to me about this is that I have Medicare and Florida Medicaid, and let me tell you: compared to other countries with socialized medicine, we are getting absolutely shafted. It's been going on for a long time, at least since George W. Bush was in office. That's when Medicare Advantage plans started becoming a thing, and in Florida and at least some other states, there is no public option for Medicaid. You HAVE to pick a private "managed care" plan. (UHC, Humana, Florida Blue, Molina, and Sunshine Health are the companies that come to mind. I think there's one or two more in the mix for Florida Medicaid. YMMV.)

My Medicare and Medicaid benefits are administered in one dual special needs plan (D-SNP), which is the best option for me in a lot of ways... except here's the thing: I get those benefits because I'm disabled. Legally, my disability benefits were approved on the basis of PTSD, eating disorders, and severe anxiety.

It is impossible to find an eating disorder recovery program, online or in-person, that accepts Medicare. So I have a disability, and I wouldn't even have insurance at all if I didn't go through the process of sitting in front of an ALJ after nearly three years of waiting time, for her and the hired assessor and fuck knows who else to determine that my eating disorder is a major factor in why I can't work.

So you might say I only have this insurance because of my eating disorder.

So you might even go so far as to say the reason I have this insurance (any insurance, really) is CATEGORICALLY excluded from the benefits offered by this or ANY OTHER plan available to me that includes Medicare. Almost no Florida Medicaid plans are accepted by any eating disorder specific program or facility, and the way it works is that Medicare is billed first, and it seems like no one really knows what that means for people like me.

I currently have a D-SNP, but I could switch to having separate plans for each of Medicare and Florida Medicaid. It might be worth doing, but I can only switch plans once a quarter, and it seems like switching is the only way to find out. But if it doesn't work, and it might not, I could be without benefits I desperately need for months before I even get an answer. I've heard of the whole being more than the sum of its parts, but somehow, Medicare + Medicaid in one plan may do less than two separate plans.

Oh, and my plan? I won't name it, but it's UHC. Private insurance companies run Medicare Advantage plans and D-SNP plans like mine. I have this plan mostly because it covers my prescriptions. (Well, for now, anyway. Fully expecting to lose coverage for HRT within the next year or two.)

The psych facilities in-network to me are okay... if you don't actually have to do anything above outpatient therapy. I would be goddamn terrified to be sent to one of them for inpatient care. Just based on the Google reviews alone.

But who cares about mentally ill poor people. If I had a drug or alcohol problem, I'd have no problem finding a rehab in-network for that, but I'd still never check into one on an inpatient basis. The only ones of those in-network to my plan have the same problem as the general psych facilities near me. I would survive, but I'd probably come out worse, not better.

Original Medicare (Parts A and B) is more predictable in some ways, but it doesn't cover all of what the Medicare Advantage plans (Part C) cover (no prescription drug coverage at all without enrolling in either Part C for all your Medicare or at least a Part D plan, which deals with prescription drugs). Also, you still have to pay a monthly premium unless you're dirt poor and qualify for Medicaid and "Extra Help." So calling it socialized medicine the way Canada does it or the way the NHS does things in the UK or whatever, for example, is seriously stretching the limits of that idea.

Anyway tl;dr I've been dealing with this for a while and have a lot more to say about it, but the point is, if you think Medicare and Medicaid are examples of "socialized medicine" the way other countries use the term, you have been misled and will end up extremely confused and frustrated if your situation actually demands complex care of any kind. And for certain specific conditions, apparently, you're just fucked. You end up nearly dying of anorexia three or four times because there's literally no help for you that won't cost tens of thousands of dollars out of pocket.

Sorry for the rant. I'm incredibly frustrated about these things and just venting a little, I guess. But I also feel like this kind of shit should be common knowledge, because I'm definitely not the only person dealing with it, except somehow no one ever seems to talk about it.

I can hardly wait to try to get an autism assessment covered.

saw someone say the only people who don't approve of Luigi are old enough that they basically DO have socialized health care (medicare or whatever) and as such literally don't understand what everyone else is going through. made me think.

it definitely matches up with the idea that people's political and cultural positions are largely a superset of their material interests

[jalo-parker]

My laptop charger got accidentally left at my other parents house for the week so all I have is playboy bunny outfit helsknight.. 😁😁 I am so normal and sane i promise <- hes very clearly lying

I have no explanation for this.. hope you fellow helsknight fans enjoy..?

[dervampireprince]

I just rewatched moonknight and your audios are literally the only thing keeping me alive in that somewhat dead fandom THANK YOU 😭😭🙏

i do feel adrift making moon knight stuff still so thank you