I have bronchitis. Thanks to the ACA, I was able to get medicine for $0. #ThanksObama
that came from taxes I paid.
Well, let my know how much I owe you and I’ll drop a few pennies in the mail. War comes from taxes you paid, and I personally dislike the amount I pay going for that… Maybe we should check “yes” or “no” on our 1040 forms this year for allocation of tax dollars.
I’m sorry you think I’m lying, but I’m not. I qualified for the Medicaid expansion under the ACA, which is partially funded through taxpayer revenue. I don’t think the IRS mailed you a letter saying, “Nah nah nah nah naaaaaaah! This year’s tax dollars went to pay for medicine for poor people mwahahaha!” Who knows? Maybe YOUR portion of tax dollars went to a Hellfire missile that took out a village in Afghanistan. Ooh, how exciting for you!
Comfort yourself with that thought as I use my inhaler, which I would not have been able to afford without the ACA.
what the fuck is wrong with Americans who aren’t on board with free healthcare. I’m Canadian and I don’t care that I pay extra taxes so a little boy in Alberta can have open heart surgery, or an elderly man in Nova Scotia can get the heart medication he desperately needs. It’s called taking care of your people. I’m glad I pay so that people can have a good quality of life. It’s called being a decent fucking human being.
Disney Princesses as Game of Thrones characters by
Grandma Fa!Olenna is PERFECTGUYS HOLY CRAP GUYS THIS IS BEYOND PERFECT GUYS
A proposed new (non-binary inclusive) trans* symbol.
Not gonna lie, I got a little giddy when I saw it.
I really like it. Aw man.
OH MAN HOW COOL IS THIS
Every time I see this post on my dash, I am just blown away with the levels of meaning it has. Because the asterisk has often been used as an inclusive signifier for the suffix “trans,” and the symbol is obviously referencing that.
But if you look closely, the asterisk attached to the circle contains both the female and male (Venus and Mars) symbols.
And if you know much about the meanings of astrology symbols, you could even argue that there’s a third glyph in there. Because male/Mars is drive (arrow) over spirit (circle), and female/Venus is spirit (circle) over matter (cross). And when you’ve used those, you’re left with what could be interpreted as mind (crescent) over spirit (circle). And I really think it would be quite useful for anyone who doesn’t fit in the gender binary.
So yes. All the awards to the creator!
That is beyond cool!
This is a fantastic and excellent bit of design. Good on the creators.
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GET TO KNOW ME MEME - [3/5] Favorite Movies
↳Legally Blonde “I’ll show you how valuable Elle Woods can be! ”
Inspired by karlbourbon, who said: Jim and Bones holding hands and watching a meteor shower.
"Make a wish, Bones." Jim says. "Or three. There are plenty of shooting stars."
Bones stares up at the meteor shower and picks one. It’s a vibrant and fiery but slower to fall than the others. He makes his wish silently, aware of Jim watching him intently, as if he believes he can see the wish in Bones’ eyes.
"What did you wish for?" Jim asks, because he can’t help it.
"I don’t want to jinx it." Bones tells him, and moves closer. The night air is growing even colder, and Jim is radiating heat like a furnace.
Jim hums happily and snuggles against Bones. The stars are beautiful, the meteors even more so, but they are nothing compared to the man at his side.
There’s a bigger meteor streaking across the sky. They watch it burn up in awe. It’s strange how destruction can be so beautiful.
When the tip of Bones’ nose goes cold he decides it’s time. He reluctantly moves to sit up, wincing as the cold rushes in, and beckons for Jim to stand. He does, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. Bones is suddenly struck by an overwhelming wave of affection.
"James T. Kirk," Bones begins, grasping in his pocket. Jim looks even more confused now. "Despite the grey hairs you’ve given me, I love you more than I love the earth under our feet, more than I fear space, more than I fear love itself." He’s on one knee now, smiling up at the man he’s willing to spend the rest of his life with.
"Jim, will you marry me?" He says, heart in his throat, because this is it, the moment where he lets love overcome the fear of heartbreak and danger and death. He holds out the ring, holds out his heart, and looks up into the blue eyes of his best friend, his other half, his star.
Bones doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting. A kiss, maybe, or a simple yes, or rejection. He did not expect Jim to laugh at him so much that there are tears in his eyes. Jim bends over double, his face red. Bones wonders if he needs to give Jim a scan with the tricorder.
"Sta-stand up." Jim manages to get out between heaving fits of laughter. Bones does, the ring still nestled in his limp hand. The falling meteors reflect off the silver metal, catching on the engraving on the outside. Long ago they’d talked about the possibility of getting married, which had evolved into a discussion about what rings they would get. They had settled on simple silver, with their favourite constellations engraved on the outside and the names on the inside.
Jim snorts as he tries to get his laughter under control. “I’m laughing, Bones, because I was going to propose to you.”
"Oh." Bones says, because that’s all he can really think of at the moment. He should have known Jim would propose under the stars.
“Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you Bones.” Jim beams. Bones feels his heart soar, his fears falling away.
Jim drops to one knee and holds out his own ring. Bones grins when he sees Jim has remembered their ring discussion.
"Leonard Horatio McCoy, I thought real love was simply a myth spun by the lonely until I met you. I’d give up the stars for you. They no longer matter – you are my home.”
Bones is pretty sure those are tears on his cheeks.
“Bones, will you marry me?” Jim looks at him with shining eyes.
“I think it’s pretty obvious what my answer is, considering I’ve already proposed to you and all.” Bones tells him, his voice rough. “Of course I will, darlin’. I’d like nothing better.” He’s still holding Jim’s ring, the constellation of Leo carefully engraved on the outside. Jim has claimed Leo as his favourite constellation for years now, saying that it reminds him of Bones.
“You have the heart of a lion, Bones. Warm and brave and caring even when the universe is cruel and cold.”
Jim holds up Bones’ ring, the constellation of Aquila patterned on the silver. Bones knows exactly why Aquila is his favourite constellation. It reminds him of Jim, flying free and brave and passionate in the heavens where it belongs.
Jim bites his lip. “How are we gonna do this?” He asks.
“Can I?” Bones gestures with the ring. Jim holds out his left hand and grins as Bones takes it gently. The ring slips on perfectly. Jim’s face lights up at the sight of it.
Jim takes Bones’ outstretched hand and slips the ring on carefully, like sealing a great vow. Bones smiles happily at the silver band, tracing it with one fingertip as if he’s afraid it’s going to dissipate into dust.
When they’re settled on the blanket watching the meteor shower again, hands linked together, Bones smiles. He doesn’t need that wish anymore, for he has his own star to wish upon. And he’s not going to let it fall.
"If you were a painting, what would you be?"
The question comes out of left field, but that’s not really surprising. It’s the first night of a glorious two weeks of shore leave, and, as usual, they’re gathered for drinks and cards and laughter. So the surprise isn’t so much that a random question has been asked, but that it was asked by Sulu, who isn’t even drinking alcohol.
"The Mona Lisa," Jim answers promptly.
Nyota scoffs. “Leave it to you to compare yourself to the most famous painting on Earth. Practically in the galaxy.”
"I should like to know your reasoning, Jim," Spock says.
Jim smiles slightly, shaking his head, and sets down his glass. “Have any of you ever actually seen the Mona Lisa?”
"I’ve seen pictures," Leonard volunteers. He’s never told anyone, not even Jim, but he once entertained thoughts of being an artist.
"No, I mean, in person." Leonard shakes his head, as do the others. "I have, summer I turned fifteen. It’s not very impressive. At least, not to me. It’s not as big as you’d expect, and it’s kind of dingy, and frankly I don’t think it’s a very good painting. If it weren’t the most famous painting on the planet, you wouldn’t give it a second look."
Leonard feels uneasy at Jim’s assessment of the painting, especially since he compared himself to it. Spock tilts his head slightly. “And for that reason…”
Jim nods seriously. “We’ll have to go to the Louvre sometime, so I can show you what I mean.”
There is a brief moment of silence before Chekov changes the subject. Leonard can’t get it out of his head, though, and that night when they crawl into bed, he makes sure to hold his husband extra tightly.
Leonard doesn’t know how Spock does it, but somehow, the next day, he comms them with the news that he has “procured seven seats on the next shuttle to France” and asks them to meet at the shuttleport. Of course they can’t say no, and the next thing he knows, the senior command of the Enterprise is checked into a hotel in the heart of Paris. When Sulu and Chekov press Spock, he says only that it is a “cultural experience” and points out that it is hardly fair that they have seen dozens of famous landmarks and galleries on planets across the quadrant, but never seen one of the most famous cities on their own planet. When Leonard pulls him aside, however, he admits that he couldn’t stop thinking about Jim’s comparison of himself to the Mona Lisa.
"I have never seen more than a fascimile, Doctor," he says softly, "but…let us employ one of your human emotions, and hope that they do not live up to the original."
Of course nobody specifically mentions the Louvre, not right away. That’s something that needs a whole day. Instead they take the Metro—a transportation system largely unchanged in three centuries, which Spock and Scotty both find fascinating for different reasons—to the Eiffel Tower, go to the top and look out across the city as the sun sets and the streets light up. Leonard slips his arm around Jim’s waist and Nyota threads her fingers through Spock’s, and they stay on the observation deck until Chekov gets dizzy and they find out he hasn’t eaten since the party the night before. Leonard chides him and they get dinner before going back to the hotel to sleep.
Jim’s the only one who’s been to Paris before. The first full day in the city, they hit the bigger landmarks—the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame, Napoleon’s tomb—and then spend the afternoon at the Musee d’Orsay, the modernist art museum, which all of them agree is thoroughly weird. Jim remembers a little cafe his mother took him to, and wonder of wonders, it’s still there. The waiter recognizes them and gets the proprietor, who insists on waiting on them himself and giving them a discount and heaping praises on them, but especially on Jim. Any other time Leonard would have teased Jim about getting a swelled head, but Jim’s face is burning bright red and he seems to be trying to hide under the table.
So the next day, when they do go to the Louvre, they make an effort to be unobtrusive. Jim and Bones both have a three-day scruff of beard, which effectively disguises them to the casual eye; Spock wears a knit stocking cap that covers the tips of his ears. The others aren’t as well-known, and they look different enough out of uniform that they’re all right. They stick together and go through the museum slowly, taking their time, enjoying the various exhibits.
At last, they enter one of the huge rooms, the most crowded one they’ve been to yet. There’s a huge crowd around the back wall, buzzing with excitement. Jim stops well back from it and gestures. “There it is.”
At first, Leonard doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Then he sees that there is a single painting on the back wall, hung just above the height of the average man. Nyota gasps. “Is that…?”
"Yep," Jim says. "That’s the Mona Lisa. You can go closer, if you want, but I’m gonna stay back here. Tell me what you think—as if it were any other painting in the museum.”
Chekov is the first to speak, his brows knotted in confusion. “It’s so…small. We have dishtowels on ze Enterprise bigger zan zat.”
"Cleaner, too," Sulu mutters.
Leonard squints. Truthfully, he has no desire to get any closer to the painting, but even at this distance, he can see enough to say honestly, “You’re right, Jim. It’s not that impressive of a painting.”
"Why’s it so famous?" Scotty asks.
"I believe that has to do with the painter," Spock says, "although research indicates that, before the twentieth century, it was not particularly famous.”
Nyota shakes her head. “If it weren’t on the wall by itself, you’d never notice it.”
"Now you understand," Jim says quietly. "That’s how I’ve always felt—how the world makes me feel. I’m famous because of my dad, and okay, maybe what we’ve done has added to that, but still. People only really pay attention to me because I’m famous.”
Leonard looks at the painting. The frame is twice as big as necessary, matted thickly, and it looks lost and forlorn on the huge white expanse of the gallery wall. For a wild moment, he wonders if the painting gets lonely, being on a wall by itself. If it wouldn’t be happier in a crowd, even though that would mean nobody would pay attention to it. If maybe it doesn’t like calling attention to itself at all.
He glances back at Jim, who meets his eyes and smiles slightly. “Come here,” he says, taking Leonard’s hand. “Let me show you something.”
Leonard lets Jim lead him around the crowd. The others follow close behind. As they draw near the wall, Leonard realizes that there are huge bays on either side, leading to a room behind it, and he wonders how he missed it. Then again, nobody else seems to have seen it either. This room is virtually empty, save for one or two people walking swiftly through the room. Jim stops in the middle of the room and points upwards, not saying a word.
Looking up, Leonard can’t hold back a gasp of astonishment. Far above them, almost the height of the Enterprise’s warp nacelles, is a gorgeous fresco, painted in bright vibrant colors and accented with gold leaf. Even from this distance, the artwork is so detailed that he can make out individual strands of a woman’s hair, see the fingernails on a hand twisted in a robe, count the leaves on a tree. It’s breathtakingly beautiful.
"This was my favorite part," Jim says, his voice soft, almost reverent. "I spent almost an hour in here the last time, just staring at it."
"It’s amazing," Leonard breathes.
Jim steps closer to Leonard, slipping an arm around his waist. “This," he says, "is what you make me feel like. All of you, but especially you, Bones."
Spock looks at Jim. “What do you mean, Jim?”
The others tear their gazes away from the fresco as Jim explains, “I can never remember what this painting is called, or who did it—the sign’s a little high up and far away. But I never forgot how beautiful it was. When you guys look at me, you see…well, me. You don’t care that I’m famous, or infamous or whatever. You don’t care where I’ve come from or what I’ve done. All you care about is me.” He waves a hand around the room. “You see what nobody else takes the time to notice, and you…well, you see the best of me. I might be the Mona Lisa to the rest of the world…but when I’m with you, I feel like something special.”
Leonard feels tears in his eyes. Then and there, in the middle of one of the most public museums in the galaxy, he takes Jim’s face in his hands and kisses him, deeply, tenderly, and thoroughly.
"You are, Jim," he murmurs against his husband’s lips. "You are."
Must be pretty cool, huh? To have the world see you like this - the amazing Spider-Man!