#like if i needed a wheelchair it wouldn't be for fashion either | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

20dollarlolita · 2 months

Note

Heyy, I know this isn't really your thing, but do you think it would be bad for someone to get a wheelchair to cosplay at a convention, when they're not disabled? I know you go to cons in a chair.

That's a kind of complicated question.

So for starters, obviously there's not one person who can speak for every wheelchair user, so don't take my word as law or anything.

But the short answer is maybe? Probably?

First of all, if you want to learn how noodle arm your abled noodle arms are (and yes, you have abled noodle arms. Manual wheelchair users have arm muscles you've never heard about), try to propel yourself through a con for an entire day.

But to answer the question, first of all, it's not okay for someone who's using a wheelchair for a cosplay to take up limited resources that are intended for disabled people. If there's limited wheelchair seating at a panel, you better not be taking it up. You can get out of your wheelchair and sit, and you can't tell if another wheelchair user is able to safely and comfortably do it. If you're worried about people judging you for using a wheelchair and then standing up and walking, welcome to the reality that a lot of ambulatory wheelchair users, who can stand or walk, live all the time. Remember what that judgement feels like and make a note to never, ever pass it onto another person. Don't be using the wheelchair for cutting in lines or things like that. If there's a line for the elevator or the big bathroom stall, let other people go ahead of you.

But, I don't think it's inherently bad for someone to want to use a wheelchair at a convention, even if they wouldn't be using one outside a con, provided that they do not use resources intended for disabled people. I think that management of a convention seeing that there are more wheelchair users will be more likely to take into consideration wheelchair accommodations. I think that people who are using a wheelchair in public for the first time will learn very fast about how accessible their convention center actually is. There's a lot of things that I didn't realize were accessibility problems until they were problems that directly challenged my personal access. A lot of those things would cost zero dollars to change, but the people in charge either don't have the experience needed to know that they need to be changed, or they don't think it's a priority because wheelchair users are in the minority. Having more people aware of those kinds of situations is going to make a bigger pressure to stop those things from happening. For example, when was the last time that you noticed an a bathroom stall labeled accessible that had a door that opened inward? Most people I know wouldn't consider that a problem, but everyone who's been unable to pee because the stall isn't big enough for the door and their wheelchair is going to notice. The places I've been where moving the line over 5" to the left would make an inaccessible line able to accommodate my wheelchair (looking at you, Halloween Horror Nights). There's been "oh we have a ramp" and it's two 2x4's. There's all kinds of little things that cost no money that can be better, but no one cares until it's about them. You can get that perspective. You can learn how garbage it can feel.

I also don't want to ignore the fact that we frequently use cosplay to test out things that we want to do in our real lives. A lot of my friends who wear alternative fashion daily started out just wearing alternative fashion to conventions. Everyone my age or younger either a) has a friend that started out cosplaying characters of a different gender and then they later came out as that gender, or b) is that friend, or c) says weird transphobic BS all the time and so trans people don't want to be their friends. Deciding that you need to use a mobility aid is a really weirdly hard decision. I actually had a long period of time between "I need a mobility aid," and "it's okay if I use a mobility aid." I'm going to assume that there's people out there who are trying to decide if it's helpful and okay to use a wheelchair, who test it out by cosplaying a character in a wheelchair and seeing how they feel about it when it's part of a costume. I don't want to deny someone a chance to learn that it's okay to get a wheelchair and will help them.

But yeah, the short version is if your enjoyment of a convention using a wheelchair for a costume comes at the expense of the accessibility and experience of people who are disabled and don't have a choice about if they're going to be using mobility aids, you're a piece of garbage.

But I haven't actually been wearing cosplay to cons for a while (though I did cosplay Barbara Gordon at the last SacAnime) so if anyone in the disabled cosplay community has something to say about this, I'd appreciate the input. Like I said, no one can speak for everyone in this subject.

#pink's controversial opinions #20dollarlolita on wheels #not lolita

72 notes · View notes

ceasarslegion · 2 years

Text

Glasses are, by all intents and purposes, an accessibility aid, yet bad eyesight is not treated like a disability in the slightest.

I've needed glasses my whole life. My eyesight is disgustingly bad and I wouldn't be able to function without them. I don't notice any difference in my quality of life when I'm wearing them, but if I lost or broke the only pair I have, it would severely and negatively impact my life. But again, I don't even notice when I'm wearing them because no one ever points them out, no one ever others me about them, if someone does mention them it's to compliment me on how the style fits my face or to inform me that I should probably clean them. In other words, they're never brought up unless it's in a positive or helpful way.

Which gets me thinking about why other accessibility aids aren't treated this way. It's clearly possible, it's clearly within the realm of possibility if we can manage it on a societal level with glasses. It's not like glasses aren't noticeable considering they're big plastic or metal frames that sit right in front of where you're supposed to look when you address somebody. It's not like they don't require maintenance and specialists and money to get and upkeep. And there's nothing stopping anybody from making wheelchairs, canes, prosthetic limbs, or any other aid fashionable and individually expressive like you can do with your glasses.

And i guess it's not like glasses being normalized was entirely "good" either, for lack of a better term. Considering the thing I need to see isn't covered under our public healthcare and I had to get my frames online and on sale lest they cost more than my phone. They're a millimeter too big for that and fall off my face if I look down too fast, but at least I can see, right?

I'd like to see without getting hit with a paywall, though

#some thoughts

26 notes · View notes

killian-spey · 3 years

Text

Death Would Be Kinder [Prologue]

Next Ch.

[Drusilla/Spike/Calendar!Reader]

Words: 1591

Fic Concept: Jenny Calendar’s sister spends some “quality time” with the Season 2 Vampire Squad.

TW/CW: violence

AN: Idea came from @prose-for-hire ‘s submission to the fic title game. It's a tad different from the original concept, but I just had so much fun with it! (Planned to be somewhere between 5-10 parts.)

It was Buffy’s 17th birthday today, but the mood seemed too heavy in the car for any giggling between the two of you. Truth be told, you both had a lot on your minds; not that you would have actually told her anything about your problems. You were staring out the window, picking absently at some dried paint on your arm; you never were able to master being tidy while you painted. Your older sister, Jenny, was driving the two of you to The Bronze, where the rest of the group was lying in wait to surprise her with a birthday bash. You made eye contact with her when she looked through the rear view at you, and you could tell she was just as worried as you were about recent developments.

Your Uncle had come into town recently and berated the two of you for letting Buffy and Angel get so close. Unfortunately for you and Jenny, if something didn't change quickly, Angel could lose his soul. All the work of your ancestors taken to curse him would be undone, and there would be no way to fix it. It's not that you wanted Angel to be unhappy, but the vengeance curse against Angel was not only important to your people, but possibly the thing that kept him from being a monster. If anything jeopardized that, it would crush Buffy and the gang. You didn't want to let anyone down.

Jenny pulled into the side street -having arrived at The Bronze- and you undid your seat belt. Before you could open your door, Buffy pulled your hand away from the handle.

“This looks funky, stop for a sec.”

You and Jenny both squinted, trying to see what she was even talking about. It took you both a moment, but sure enough there were two vamps clambering around on a truck in the shadows. Jenny tried to talk Buffy out of fighting them, but she left anyway. Something about destiny and all that. You were just impressed she could see that well in the dark.

Watching Buffy fight the vamps left you wincing, pitying the undead for having to go through such a beat down. You hung on the edge of your seat and leaned on the passenger seat in front of you. The two of you left in the vehicle hadn't had a chance to talk in private since Uncle had spilled the beans on the Angel problem.

“What are we going to do about the curse, Jenny?”

She made a face and shook her head, she didn't know what to do either. She knew more about the curse than you did -magic was never your strong suit- and if she didn't know, you both were stuck.

“If only there was a way to separate them.” You were spit-balling.

“Right, and how do you suggest we do that?”

She had a point, Buffy and Angel had been practically attached at the hip recently. You opened your mouth to speak, but paused as Buffy tossed the last vamp through a window into The Bronze. You and Jenny both made reactionary sounds that could only be summed up as “Yikes noises” and scrambled out of the car. Buffy hopped through the broken window and you both inspected the window. Jenny picked up a crate one of the vamps had been carrying and carried it inside.

After some pleasantries and some “Yeah, sorry! Vampires exist” talk with Oz, the group crowded around the mystery box. It was no secret that those vamps were Spike’s men, so whatever it was, it was definitely not good.

Your worry was confirmed when an arm shot out of the box, strangling Buffy before she and Angel managed to rip it away from her throat. According to Angel, it was the arm of The Judge. That meant Spike was building a one-man-apocalypse like some kind of demonic Lego figurine.

You glanced at Jenny, trying to communicate your plan silently as you addressed the group. “Someone has to take this thing as far away from here as possible- separate it from the other pieces.”

Jenny was quick, immediately understanding your idea.

“Angel, it has to be you. You're the only one who can protect this thing.”

It took a little convincing, but a plan was soon agreed on. You and Jenny shared a “Thank God” glance, secretly pleased that Angel and Buffy would be separated, at least temporarily. You could rest easy in the fact that Angelus wouldn't be loosed on the world in a freak accident of soul-losing proportions.

Or so you thought...

A couple hours later, you were back in the library doing research. Angel and Buffy had lost the box, and had everyone regroup to study up on The Judge.

To be entirely honest, you were doodling in your notes. Every text on The Judge said exactly the same thing, sometimes even verbatim. The Judge cannot be killed by any weapon forged by Man. It was exhausting!

Luckily for you, Buffy decided to break up the research with some good old fashioned recon, and Jenny suggested you go with them. Buffy was about to protest, but you cut her off.

“With the exception of you supernatural folks, I do have the best track record of holding my own. No offense, guys,” Xander seemed less than pleased with your not-so-subtle brag, but you continued anyway. “And, I’d be able to map parts of the facility super quick and easy. We’ll need that info if we plan on making a move.”

Reluctantly, Buffy and Angel agreed to take you with them and you snatched your notepad and pencil from the table, glad to be free from the texts and tomes… Even if it meant putting you in direct danger. You briefly wondered if maybe you shouldn't see a therapist about that someday, but shrugged it off as the three of you left the building.

---

Upon reaching the factory, the three of you climbed the fire escape and ducked into a broken, old window over a set of rafters. You had already begun sketching the layout of the rooms as you took in the sights below. It looked like some kind of party, to be plain. Vamps were crawling all throughout the place, a crystal bowl of what looked like punch rested on a table covered with cups in the middle of the warehouse space, and tall lattice-backed chairs were loosely strewn around a banquet table. You and Buffy creeper ahead on the grate walkway above it all. Your eyes were locked on the party, but you could assume Angel was following behind; he was too quiet for you to hear.

Your eyes fell on Spike, he was in a wheelchair. He seemed to be enjoying himself despite his weakened state, talking to someone just out of your line of sight. Not a second later, you saw Drusilla dancing her way across the floor, swaying to her own beat and sweeping the red chiffon ribbons of her dress through the air. Buffy gasped softly, but you didn't see whatever she'd seen.

“That's him. The Judge,” Angel whispered from behind you both and pointed.

You saw him, just as he craned his ugly blue head up to spot the three of you gawking. Fuck.

You spun to face the window, finding two vamps in the way of your escape. Buffy and Angel had flanked you from both sides, but fighting this many vamps was completely futile. Before long, the three of you were dragged in front of Spike, Drusilla and The Judge. Spike rolled his chair forward to get a better look at Buffy.

“Well, Well- look what we have here! Crashers.”

“I'm sure our Invitations just got lost in the mail,”

You almost rolled your eyes at Buffy’s one-liner. How she managed wise-cracks at a time like this was beyond you. Ignoring the monologues, your eyes darted around in search for an escape method. Nothing came to mind, but when you turned back into the conversation, Drusilla’s eyes had locked with yours.

She was ever so slightly swaying to music you couldn't hear and your eyes followed her intently. She raised two fingers, pointed at each of your eyes and gestured to her own. She beckoned you. She was enchanting. Beautiful. She was- she broke contact as Buffy suddenly made a move and you took a second to follow suit, twisting out of a vamp’s hold and knocking him -and accidentally yourself- off balance. You were suddenly unsure of your footing, almost groggy as you fought.

Angel pulled a chain, crashing a pile of video monitors you hadn't noticed down from their perch onto The Judge. The three of you scattered. You ducked behind some crates and heard Drusilla call for the lackeys to chase. You spotted Angel and Buffy slipping into a sewer drain and psyched yourself up to book it twenty feet to get there to join them. You took one last look behind the crates -Drusilla locked eyes with you- and you booked it, not entertaining her gaze this time.

As you dropped down the sewer drain, you caught a glimpse of her, just staring at you. You scanned both directions of the sewer system, but found no trace of Buffy or Angel. In a split second you picked a direction and ran. You didn't stop running. Not for breath, not to look behind you, and certainly not to entertain the nagging memory of Drusilla’s eyes, staring into your soul as they'd done just minutes ago.