Having had this condition since I was born, confidence isn’t a problem at this point. If I think I need to stay seated, I just look them in the eye and say “no”.

The only time I am willing to not do this (willing not do this? You get the idea) is if I genuinely believe the person asking is in more need than me at the given time, because – you know – the greater good :)

To be honest, I didn’t post this because of the fact it criticises Spanish.

I posted it because of the last two lines – where someone refers to a non-binary girl and a non-binary boy and the guy below says “Yeah, we need to talk” cause that just made me burst out laughing when I read it :)

But apparently I was the only one?

I admit it took me a second :)

The tumblr part adds 2000 notes :)

Do you think awards should be limited to The Academy?

That only pearl clutching, blue haired old women should get to tell us what is acceptable in our society?

Before the pedants and so on start asking if I want to legalise child porn and snuff films, no.

But this is a fictional site where people write stories. They don’t act out stories and they don’t make films of the stories (at least not on the site), and I am not advocating for that.

If people don’t want to read them, they can go back to story time with mother. But that doesn’t mean they get to tell me what I can and cannot read.

Also, if Johnny Sims wants to make his money entertaining people, then yeah - I say more power to him. It’s more honest than some of the actors in Hollywood.

I’d describe it as Ao3 has a broader set of terms of service and permits a far wider range of stories to be told

This will sound weird when I start, but I promise if you read the whole thing it will make sense.

A while back (10, 12 years) I had major heart surgery. And so for a few weeks after I had problems doing some things, like walking for more than ten, fifteen minutes at a time, or sitting up right for more than five minutes.

But the doctors said I needed “exercise” (bastards) so my beloved and I would go out to the shops, and she’d made me walk (because she loved me) and we’d take a wheelchair with us.

Aside from the whole “walking” thing it was kind of fun, because imagine two people walking down the high street, pushing an empty wheelchair. One of them carrying a towel (and hugging it tightly) and the other walking slowly for no apparent reason. The number of strange and confused looks we got was really hilarious at times. Especially after I got tired and had to sit in the chair so she could push me for a while (which happened a lot, because of - you know - the surgery and the tired) and we saw someone who had seen us a few minutes earlier when I was up and walking about as if I was fine.

Needless to say I seldom, if ever, gave up my seat on the bus, train, bench or anywhere else if anyone asked. Even if the person asking was 101 years old. I did explain why, and no one argued with me, but sometimes I got some dirty looks for that as well. Because I looked young and fit with no physical injuries.

It wasn’t forever, and I never claimed to be disabled, and after eight or nine weeks I could bound about like a gazelle on heat. But those first few weeks? We got a lot of strange looks. And I know I said it was hilarious, but only because if I had decided to take offence then I would have whacked the wheelchair into so many people I probably would have been arrested :)

(The towel, if you were wondering, was for my chest. Having your chest cracked open and put back together hurts a lot, but then if you sneeze or cough oh my sweet fucking god it hurts so much more. Putting a towel against it mitigates it some but still – fucking ow!!)