jfc i dont achieve shit despite my illness, i achieve it with my illness, its chronic, i will always have it and i can’t just shove it to the side, i can’t just force my way through the pain, i have to work with it
this is part of why i hate stuff like “focus on ability!” and “see beyond the disability”
you cannot separate my disability from any part of my life, no matter what, its just that pervasive
cheers you on at every soccer game even though you’re horrible at it “You got this, champ!” loves to barbecue and can always tell when something’s wrong “You okay, bud?” Still wears the #1 dad t-shirt you made for him when you were little.
Comes off as relaxed and let’s you go to that shady party but when you get back you have (84) missed calls from Dad and he’s pacing in the living room. Doesn’t know how to cook so just orders takeout. “Well, you’re still alive so I guess I did pretty well”
“Breakfast is most important meal. Triggers metabolism and gives energy!” Only showed you educational kids shows and builds your model volcano for you. Sings in the car even though ugh dad you’re embarrassing me.
“I’m not your friend, I’m your father” but actually adores you more than anything in the galaxy. Took the day off work then stayed up with you all night when you got food poisoning. The day he tells you he’s proud of you is the best you’ve ever felt in your life.
let's you take a sip of ryncol and laughs when you start gagging. Says "Whatever" and uses guilt as his primary tactic. Always gives you piggy back rides and weirdly specific life advice.
Dad jokes. Too many dad jokes. Let you watch a horror movie that gave you nightmares for weeks. "If I can do it, you can." Made sure you aced your driving exam and took you out for ice cream after.
Tries to watch his language but it usually ends up sounding like "Well sh... shucks" All your friends think he's really cool but he always asks things like "what in the shitting hell is a me-me"
Crazy dance!! Always knows what to say when you're upset. Remembers the small things like what toppings you like on yogurt and makes sure your favorite shirt is always clean. "I want you to be happy in life."
Imagine an entire Star Trek show about a group of people who aren’t members of the bridge crew or one of the higher ups, and each week it’s them trying to do their job while crazy shit happens that they don’t really understand, like:
They get an announcement from their superior officers that goes “You may notice a child walking around the ship in a captain’s uniform. That is in fact the captain and is to be treated the same as always. We’re quickly working on a solution.”
A transporter mishaps causes the chief engineer to turn into a vulcan. They try not to stare at the ears, and move on.
Shots of them reacting to superior officers running through the background in the midsts of a red alert that they don’t know what it’s in response to.
“Did you hear the away team landed on planet that had five years pass before they got them back?” “Man, I’m glad I got skipped over for that assignment.”
Trying to figure out if the rumor that their commander got kidnapped by an alien race that considers them their god is true or just something made up by a bridge crewman to mess with them.
Popping in and out of existence and taking bets on which All Powerful race it is that’s doing it and why.
anytime Weird Shit happens on the ship it’s never explained. why are there chickens in the Jeffrey Tubes? why does the captain have a double? why did the chief medical examiner briefly turn homicidal? they don’t know and neither do you.
Each episode ends with them pouring one out for the crewmembers who died that week.
i am not a person with a disability, i am a disabled person.
im in the middle of writing a massive essay as to why this is better, i want to make it clear that my illness/disability is so pervasive that it affects every aspect of my life, it has given me new insights and understandings, fighting against ableism has helped define me.
so dont take that away from me, for so long people have tried to avoid saying the word disability by using things like ‘hanicapable’ or ‘differently abled’ or just talking around it
just. fucking. say. it.
to say that i am a person ‘despite my illness/disability’ denies me an important part of who i am, to say that you don’t see disability or that you ‘look beyond it’ denies my struggles
i dont expect you to understand, i want you to listen and Just. Fucking. Say. It.
Summary: in this chapter, you’re aren’t asked. you’re told.
Warnings: alcohol, language
A/N: this should be interesting to write. that drunk friends gettin’ married trope.
Street upon street lined with lights brighter than you’d ever seen. Reds, yellows, greens, blues— colors you’d never encountered in your life stung your eyes as they flashed over the building-sized television screens, the bulbs lining each tower, and the clothes of every creature stumbling along every sidewalk just like you were.
You imagined that’s what Las Vegas looked like back on Earth— you’d heard stories from the old bitties in your family and you’d seen pictures of its heyday, but the sight of such excess, of such unnecessary glitz was nearly overwhelming in person.
Your eyes were hooded and foggy from the drunkenness that warmed you to the tips of your toes while your steps managed a certain degree of stability, your arm looped through that of one of your closest friends.
You let your arm fall from his, catching his hand instead and pulling him closer into your side. His hip bumped against yours and you took a deep breath, feeling the cold air burn your nostrils as you inhaled. “Remind me to never go to another Chekov party. I swear the boy wants me hospitalized with alcohol poisoning.”
Jim laughed through his nose, his glassy blue eyes sliding shut for a moment. “He didn’t force the shots down your throat, starlight.”
You mouthed his words imitatively and laughed loudly when he shot you a dirty look. “You know, Nyota said she and Spock might get married.”
“What, like in the future?” he asked, pulling you along the sidewalk until he came to a brief stop before a large white marble fountain.
You sighed at the feeling of the cold mist splashing against your warm skin, shutting your eyes as he continued walking to let him guide you blindly. “No, like, soon. Like before we leave the base.”
His steps halted and you opened your eyes, nodding upwards as he stared at you with his head tilted. There was a soft red tint spreading over the tip of his nose and the highpoints of his cheeks, his blonde hair sticking up every which way from the ongoing breeze.
You were tempted to smile and pinch his cheek adoringly but stopped yourself when you read his confusion and mild shock. “What? This place is loaded with little wedding halls probably for every religious faith and culture in the Federation. We even passed one for atheists, like, fourteen feet from the junior officer barracks.” You pointed ahead of you at a plain white building which looked misplaced amongst all the excess. “There’s one for Vulcan atheists right there.”
He blew a raspberry, the sound childish and inspiring another one of your smiles. “Them getting married would be a mistake.”