#<- for access

[christmassavestheyear]

tags ✮

#txt !! → my text posts #img !! → my image posts #reblogs !! → rb'd posts #queue !! → queued posts #mp3 !! → music posts #ask answered → asks #anon → anon asks #saved by a stranger → saved posts #mutuals → posts with/about my mutuals<33 #ask bait → ask games #polls → any polls #nova's monthly start up !! → the goals post i make each month #mecore !! → me posts #free palestine → any posts about palestine conflict #my fics -> any fanworks i write #fic recs -> any fanworks i read

[moth-p]

INTRO POST!

I'm gonna make this look better. Someday.

I am a minor, so keep that in mind!

My name is Moth, she/her! (Though I'm fine with they/them as well)

I am pan

I have both types of ADHD (hooray) (also possibly autism. Yet to be diagnosed.)

Some of my interests include:

-Object shows (Mainly BFDI)

-Undertale/Deltarune

-Omori

-Animator VS Animation/Minecraft

-The Henry Stickmin Collection

- *sigh* Ninjago.. (Like once a year I get really hyperfixated on it for no reason)

-The Owl House

-Doki Doki Literature Club!

-Genshin Impact

And more that I have 100% forgotten!

My music taste is literally all over the place but some of my favorite artists/bands include:

-Lemon Demon

-The Crane Wives

-Toby Fox

Some artists that I also enjoy but wouldn't call myself a huge fan

-Kikuo

-Cavetown

-Penelope Scott

If you wanna be friends, go ahead!

DNI: Pro/conshipers, ped@philes/MAPs, MAP supporters, NSFW blogs, TERFs, homo/transphobic people, panphobic people, people against the LGBT community in general, racists (will add more if I remember something)

#moth reblogs - me reblogging stuff. Thats it

#moths insane ramblings - me talking about stuff.

#moth content - anything that doesnt fit the above tags (art, memes, etc.)

WORDS I CAN NEVER HEAR THE SAME AGAIN

I think thats it

[inkskinned]

please i love you i'm begging you bring back suspension of disbelief bring back trusting the audience like. i cannot handle any more dialogue that sounds like a legal document. "hello, i am here to talk to you about the incident from a few minutes ago, because i feel you might be unwell, and i am invested in your personal wellbeing." "thank you, i am unwell because the incident was hurtful to me due to my childhood, which was bad." I CANT!!!!

do you know how many people are mad that authors use "growled" as a word for "said"? it's just poetics! they do not literally mean "growled," it's just a common replacement for "said with force but in a low tone." it's normal! do you hear me!! help me i love you please let me out of here!!!

[commonzinnia]

yeah, sorry i exhibited symptoms of the disorder i told you i have. it will happen again because i have that disorder and will continue having it. hope this helps!! 🫶🫶🫶

[animentality]

[faroe3]

look at this sign at my local monastery

[lgbtlunaverse]

The world exists in such a baffling state of simultaneous sex-aversion and sex-hegemony. Every social platform on the internet is trying to banish sex workers to the shadow realm but I can't post a tweet without at least two bots replying P U S S Y I N B I O. People are self-censoring sex to seggs and $3× but every other ad you see is still filled with half-naked women. Rightwingers want queer people arrested for so much as existing in the same postal code as a child and are also drumming up a moral panic about how teenage boys aren't getting laid enough. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

[pleaseletmeexist]

When I say “school should be disability accessible”, I don’t just mean we need handicap rails and EAs. Kids should be able to miss a day without failing out of school. You shouldn’t be dismissed from clubs because your attendance record is “spotty” (true story). I once missed an entire week of school because of a terrible, unending migraine. I was expected to keep up with my studies despite the blinding pain that came with working on my computer. When I heard my teachers say that you couldn’t miss exams, I asked what I would have to do to be excused from them. Their response? “Either get a doctor’s note an hour before the exam or death of an immediate family member.”

I cannot express how rigid this expectation was. First of all, with my condition, I wouldn’t have enough warning about my sickness to go to the doctor and request a note. For many people, this is exceptionally difficult, especially with the current shortage of medical professionals. Next, it ignores the fact that my schedule may not line with theirs because of my medical needs. Once, I had to visit a hospital a province away (which I was on the waiting list of for over a year) on the same day as an exam. I begged my mother not to take me because I was so nervous that I would be marked as an automatic fail. I was lucky enough to make it work, but that’s only because of my spectacular support system consisting of family members and wonderful doctors.

Disabilities aren’t always about needing a bus that can accommodate wheelchairs. It’s already difficult enough for many of us to maintain school attendance without the harsh punishments involved for skipping a day. We need to be able to miss school without being punished. Only than can you claim that the school is “accessible”

[romanceyourdemons]

when i was a kid, every collection of books—large or small, public or private—had at least one small grubby volume called “fifty japanese fairy tales” “african folk tales” “who’s a-knockin at my door and other scary stories” “haunting mysteries of the sea” “golden threads: slavic fairy stories” “the unabridged grimm’s fairy tales,” and that book would contain at least one short story bizarre and haunting enough to permanently rewire your brain. and babey i was a fucking bloodhound hunting them down

[lupusbaby]

Some people don’t want to hear this but sometimes accessibility is not sustainable or eco-friendly. Disabled people sometimes need straws, or pre-made meals in plastic containers, or single-use items. Just because you can work with your foods in their least processed and packaged form doesn’t mean everyone else can.

[onemillionfurries]

"want to learn more about this project? join our discord!" explode. "want to download this game? join our discord!" explode. "want to play this mod? join our discord!" explode. "need questions answered? join our discord!" EXPLODE.

[scuttlebatt]

I Have Found A Solution!

So, obviously classic wizard robes aren’t wheelchair friendly. (Alright, admittedly this isn’t common knowledge and also this definitely isn’t a problem for most but listen, this is a problem for me and I’m pleased to present a solution for it nonetheless.)

The issue is in the sleeves and the length of the robes. The traditional trumpet style allows them to get snagged, dirty, and caught in the wheels.

This is distinctly not an issue with other mobility aids such as canes and crutches, these wizards are fine to carry on with their trumpet sleeves simply rolled up if needed.

Now, one solution might simply to shorten the sleeves and hem to be out of the way, but that looks rather silly so I won’t do that. Instead I propose the more elegant design of a hanging sleeve to maintain that flowy magical feel while allowing for better range of motion.

Honestly I just love the look of hanging sleeves in general and think more people should appreciate them, wheelchair user or not.

In conclusion…

[glorious-spoon]

every genius who thinks mandatory two-factor authentication is a good idea should be forced to do tech support for a public library that serves a lot of elderly poor people

[sidras-tak]

Accessibility takes too goddamn fucking long.

My brother was paralyzed in October 2023. We got him home from the hospital (in Texas, when we live in Iowa) in a clunky old hospital chair. He hated it. He was scared and angry and in pain and his life had just changed forever and he couldn’t do anything for himself in that wheelchair. His first goal (aside from learning how to transfer) was to get a wheelchair. My family was lucky enough to afford one so we thought it would be easy enough. Nope.

We couldn’t buy him a wheelchair. He needed a prescription. For a wheelchair. A doctor had to examine him and declare him in need of a wheelchair. It wasn’t good enough that he had scans and tests showing tumors cutting off his spinal cord. He needed his primary care doctor to examine him during a physical and write a prescription. He was making 2-4 transfers a day, tops. He had no energy to get to a doctor. Home health was in and out every day. He had no time to get to a doctor. He didn’t get a prescription for almost a month. Then it had to go through insurance.

We asked if we could skip insurance and just buy a wheelchair for him. Nope. They wouldn’t sell us one, not even at full sticker price. It needed to be approved by Medicare. We ordered a wheelchair, a nice one, a good shade of green, sporty, small. It would let him move around the house. He would be able to cook, to reach drawers and get stuff from the fridge and brush his teeth and put his contacts in at a sink. We were told it would take awhile, maybe two months. Silently we all hoped he would be around to see two more months.

He went on hospice care on a Saturday in March. On Monday, I was calling his friends to come see him before he died. I got a call on his phone. It was the wheelchair company. They were about to order his wheelchair, she said, but there was an issue with insurance— had he stopped being covered by Medicare? Well, yes. When he started hospice care, he got kicked off Medicare. The very nice woman I talked to told me to call her if he resumed Medicare coverage so she could order his wheelchair. He died less than 12 hours later.

We ordered that chair for him in early December. Medicare didn’t approve the order until March. He was dead before they got around to it. He wanted that fucking wheelchair so badly. The only reason he had any semblance of independence and any quality of life for the last five months of his life was because the wheelchair company lent him an old beater chair, a very used model of the chair he ordered. If I could go back and change one thing about his end-of-life, I would get him his dream wheelchair. He told me again and again he couldn’t wait to get it, so that he could feel like a person again. He made the best of what he had with that old beater chair, but it still makes me mad to this day. He was paralyzed. He needed a chair that afforded him dignity. We had the money for it. And yet, we were left waiting for five months, for a chair that wouldn’t even get ordered until the day he died.