How Am I Supposed To Interview An Airborne Disease That Is Invisble To The Naked Eye And Cant Talk Whatsoever!!!?

if you’re abled, please watch this

Transcript:

A tiktok reply to a comment that says, “an ambulatory wheelchair user? 😂😂😂”

The girl says, “I wasn’t gonna reply to this comment at first, but I decided I should make a video on it, because recently, I’ve gotten so many ableist comments about being an ambulatory wheelchair user, and I really wanted to address it. There are quite literally hundreds of reasons why someone could use a wheelchair. And actually, the majority of wheelchair users are not paralyzed. Over 60 % of wheelchair users are not paralyzed. They use it for some other disability. So just because you see someone who uses a wheelchair get up and walk for a few steps does not mean that they don’t need their wheelchair.

I use a wheelchair for like, ten different reasons. First of all, I have a condition called hypermobility spectrum disorder, which is very similar to Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, for people who know about that, which basically means that all the connective tissue in my body is extremely stretchy and loose. This means that all of my joints are extremely hyper-mobile and they dislocate very easily. My hips sublux, or partially dislocate, almost every single time I try to take a step. It’s extremely painful, and it literally causes damage to my hip joints. My connective tissue disorder also caused me to develop a condition called POTS, or postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. This makes me pass out basically any time I stand up for more than, like, 20 seconds. So it’s not really safe, because I’ve gotten concussions from it before from passing out and hitting my head.

POTS and hyper-mobility spectrum disorder also come with extreme fatigue, and I don’t mean being tired, I mean fatigue. My muscles physically get exhausted much easier than other people’s. And, to top it off, I have a neurological condition called functional neurological disorder. Basically, it makes my legs go numb, it causes me to have extreme muscle weakness in my calves and thighs, and some days I can’t really move them that well.

Disabled people and ambulatory wheelchair users do not owe you an explanation, and you need to understand that. I am sharing this because I feel comfortable with it and because I want to, I want to educate this person. But you have to understand that not every person is like that, and quite frankly, it’s none of your business. Thank you.”

End transcript.

family gossip would be a lot more juicy if i just knew the people theyre talking about

you ever look at japanese people, or korean or chinese and see them being so respectful & nice and be like, i want to be like that ... is it just me???

(Note: creators spell certain words differently to avoid being censored by tiktok.)

it's so mindblowing to me that there are ppl who arent obsessed with the shows or movies they watch or who arent in like any fandoms. like my friends are so nonchalant about the show they've watched or manhwa they've read because what's ??? the ??? point ??? if ??? your ??? not gonna??? squeal and giggle and kick your feet when a character does something nice for their loved ones???!?!?!?!!?!?!?!

WHATS THE POINT IF YOU DONT INTERNALISE A CHARACTERS PERSONALITY TO THE POINT THAT YOU JUST CONSIDER THEM AS YOUR OWN CHILD???!! WHATS THE POINT IF YOU DONT SHARE THEIR PAIN??? IF YOU DONT CRY WHEN THEY CRY???

“I want to do this, Ymir. We only have a month left. This might be my last chance –”

“Fine.” replies Ymir smoothly, yet the hint of exasperation in her voice is apparent. “But remember, she’s innocent. You said it yourself.” And then with one last glance at Mikasa that feels as if she should take as a warning, Ymir is gone. Historia frowns but does nothing to follow after the other woman. Mikasa wonders if she caused something terrible to happen between them. What is going on?

i was going through my posts and saw this

if yall dont thank me-

if miyano mamoru doesn't play douma, then whats the point?

yall had me thinking aot was a serious anime when in reality, mouse lemur boy went and broke BOTH of his legs cuz he cant be athletic for shit, screm boy who can kill titans twice his size AND can turn into one cant lift up a box, 2017 katy perry has mommy issues, and the flippin commander spack-poofed his way into space when he ate meat and let me remind yall all of this happened because of a cook-off ... 

me after watching the first episode of 2.43: people don’t usually attempt suicide in volleyball

A Conversation about the Sky (EreMika Fanfic)

Summary: Mikasa doesn't even notice the tightening of her fingers around his arm, or that her breathing is uneven, or that her legs and arms and her whole body is frozen and she should probably calm her heart down, but the only thing on her mind is he is here, a mantra that keeps on repeating in her head. He's here. He's here. He's here. He's really here. A smile lights up upon his face and it makes her cry even more. "Mikasa." He tries to say it with ease but his voice cracks in the middle as though he hasn't said her name for years.

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Warning: Spoilers, Angst, Emotional hurt/comfort, Canonical Character death, References to Depression, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Kissing, Making out.

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The back of a head is the first thing Mikasa sees after she opens her eyes and it takes her a moment before she can register that it is an unruly mess of brown hair on the head. It is too familiar, the shape of the head, the thin strands of the hair and how many times she has searched for this specific hair color in a sea of other colors. And she can just about imagine how it would look tied into a little ponytail as though it was a sixth sense in and of itself.

"Eren?"

She shouldn't say his name, because the figure in front of her could be anyone, but she does anyway.

The figure doesn't move an inch.

"Eren?"

His name rolling off of her tongue has always been a naturality on its own right but right now, it feels strange. As if she should have been calling his name all this time.

But didn't I?

Her arm lifts itself up, or maybe it is of her own accord, she doesn't know anything anymore, other than the fact that there is a sudden desire to touch this figure in front of her. To just have a feel of that hair, or cling onto those tattered-looking clothes, or even just a touch of the nape of his neck.

The figure is startled the moment her fingers come into contact with a little piece of his cloth, shoulders jerking up, and his body tenses up.

"Eren?" Mikasa's voice comes out as a whisper, but he nonetheless hears it. The way his ears perk up at the mention of his name remains the same, and she thinks it is as though he might get a command from someone any time now.

Please …

What? Please, what?

I don't know but please …

"Eren?" Her grip is on his arm now, too greedy for her own good but she must satisfy her hunger. She couldn't help it anymore, she has to see his face, so she twists him around and tries to locate those green as grass eyes of his until she realizes that she doesn't have to search. The pair of eyes are staring right down at her.

Mikasa is unable to open her mouth anymore so she leaves it be, her hands coming up to cover them and she can feel the slight tremble of her lips. Her thumb collects a tear that runs off on its own as a noise that sounds like a cry arose from somewhere. It isn't until later that she realizes it came from her own throat.

Those boyish facials she has spent her whole life looking after, taking care of the many scars and bruises it received due to his reckless habit of jumping face first into fights whether it concerned him or not, and the hair she remembers she based her own out of because it was the closest and only thing she could imagine that could guide the scissor in her hand, the mouth that cried out her name and it was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

Eren is here in flesh.

Mikasa doesn't even notice the tightening of her fingers around his arm, or that her breathing is uneven, or that her legs and arms and her whole body is frozen and she should probably calm her heart down, but the only thing on her mind is he is here, a mantra that keeps on repeating in her head.

He's here.

He's here.

He's here.

He's really here.

A smile lights up upon his face and it makes her cry even more. "Mikasa." He tries to say it with ease but his voice cracks in the middle as though he hasn't said her name for years.

Mikasa is vaguely aware of her next movement: the wetness of her hands and cheeks is the first thing she notices but then she finds herself planting her hands all over his face, fingers crawling every nook and cranny, behind the ears, his scalp, under his jaw, half because she wants to make sure this isn't a cursed dream and half because there might be injuries hidden somewhere and she wants to be the one to treat it.

(To read more, go here.)