#disability fest

[the-art-of-never-looking-back]

Kelley, Disability Fest (Comic: The Art of Never Looking Back)

[Image description: a series of comic panels from my webcomic, The Art of Never Looking Back, showcasing Amanda Kelley. She is a chubby black woman with an oval shaped face and large, expressive brown eyes. She has her hair up in a bun and is wearing in most images a white long sleeved shirt with blue strips on the sides, and sitting on a red-framed manual wheelchair. The first image shows her leaning forwards and grabbing her handrims and looking up, concerned. This image is captioned “How do I look?” the second image is her looking forwards towards the camera while speaking, her eye brows set with determination. This image is captioned “I know I can make a difference as handler - we don't really have the opportunity to do that here."

the third image shows her wearing a coat and wheeling up to a building, but she has to pop a wheelie to get over a step. (captioned: “Wheelies - the best” The fourth image shows her in her apartment, standing up at a stove and holding a water bottle. Someone off screen says “I keep forgetting you can walk.” The fifth image shows her standing up while holding a cane. She says “Not for any distance longer than around the house, and not without pain.” These images are captioned “Personal experience pt 1 and 2″

The last two images are close-ups of her face. First, we see her rolling her eyes while sitting down on a couch with a neck pillow propping up her head. this image is captioned “Okay, fine”. Next we see her wiping a tear off her cheek. It’s captioned “Kelley asks for proof from a close family member.” end image]

End of image description, beginning of commentary.

So, I figured I wanted to do disability fest this summer but didn’t know who to do it for. Then I was like “Wait! I have my own original disabled characters! I can just use them.”

So, without further ado, here is Amanda Kelley, one of my favorite characters in my webcomic (I’m allowed to pick favorites).

Kelley is a character in my comic, The Art of Never Looking Back. She has my disability (fibromyalgia), and while I haven’t gotten the opportunity to name drop her disability yet, I have gotten the opportunity to show that she can walk but it hurts her to do so (as seen in this image set).

Like most of my characters, she is a citizen of the city of St Ignatius which she believes is the last (real) city on Earth. The church and military rule of St Ignatius with an iron fist, and Kelley has near-absolute confidence in them - until an old acquaintance shows up with questions about the city.

[resistantreader]

All the while, he felt the small weight of Bumblebee's head resting against his metal chest. Her ear was pressed against the blue and grey metal, perhaps listening to the steady beat of his mechanical heart.

Clockwork by thelinksthatconnectus (orphan_account) for Disability Fest

[ofdreamsanddoodles]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I wanted to write something for disabilityfest and I also wanted to write about voltron so here is a wonderful fic about Shiro befriending an alien he almost stabs! It centers a bit around his ptsd, and his prosthetic

[iamallybee]

Honestly I know there’s a ton of canon disabled characters, all of them are awesome, but (since I’m still in a Lordi mindset) I keep thinking of Sarah from Dark Floors, my favourite horror movie.

[theexorcismofemily]

shoko from adventure time for disabilityfest

[chronicallyillfangirl]

Disability Fest - Clint Barton aka Hawkeye (616 Marvel Comics)

[kariachi]

An introspective ficlet about life with anosmia, from the point-of-view of one Manny Armstrong, whom I headcanon as having lost his sense of smell at age 11. Now with a little extra editing for words choice.

Warning: mention of ableism

Some days were harder for Manny than others. Someone would comment on the smell of breakfast. Helen would want to check out the candles at the store, or go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond. He’d poor a glass of milk just to find it’d gone off with the first sip. Ben would use some noxious alien and everyone would reel away from the smell. Food he cooked would burn without his knowing. Days when something happened to bring his anosmia to the front of his mind. Reminders that he would never smell cookies again, that he’d never be able to sit there and revel in a lover’s scent, or trust his food, or his hygiene, or-

The others helped as best they could. Aside from a few impatient remarks nobody ever complained about his requests that they sniff food for him. They were gentle about telling him he needed to clean his room, rarely noting that it stank. Not once had his almost manic need to have working smoke and CO2 alarms littering their apartments and homes been questioned. He wasn’t allowed to cook anymore, but he hadn’t enjoyed it anyway so that was no big loss. If nothing else he had someone to talk to in Cooper.

Out of the list of things to bond over, Manny supposed anosmia wasn’t that bad. The two of them got to gripe to each other, mostly about perfume commercials- “Does that make sense? At all?”-and people’s responses to finding out about their impairment, responses that ranged from “can you taste?” to “if I had to lose a sense, that’d be it” to “that’s not a real thing”. That last group pissed Manny off like nothing else in day to day life, as if they would lie about something that could kill them. They were right up there with the people who claimed that missing one of their major senses wasn’t a disability because they didn’t need guide dogs or mechanical aids. It was aggravating and draining, but having somebody else who understood, even if only halfway, what he was going through made things easier.

Besides, sometimes Cooper would send him texts like ‘ur patronus is totally a skunk’ and if random shit like that wasn’t going to make Manny smile what would?

Things were getting better, he supposed. He could go for days, sometimes weeks, where everything was fine before he ran into something that brought everything back into view, too strong a trigger to ignore. His eating was back on track after a swift downturn with the return of his memories and he wasn’t lashing out about it anymore. Everything was settling into white noise in the back of his head, where he knew what he was missing, and it hurt, but it wasn’t constantly ripping at him.

He supposed that was all he could ask.

[kariachi]

Hey, look, it’s a ficlet with Manny as his surly self and Helen who is half saint, co-starring a minor aggravation anosmiacs may recognize.

“Come on, it’ll make you feel better.”

“It’s hot water.” Helen rolled her eyes, placing the steaming mug on his desk.

“It’s apple tea. Trust me, it’s good and it’ll help your throat.” On a good day Manny wasn’t inclined towards anything that could be considered even mildly condescending, when his muscles ached and his throat was sore, his voice raspy? His confrontational manner skyrocketed.

“It tastes like hot water,” he said, clenching his teeth together to muffle a cough before he continued, “I’m not drinking it.” Never before had Manny wanted Levin to walk in with a bowl of soup so badly. Beside the bed, Helen narrowed her eyes.

“It does not, Manny. Just drink it.”

“No. Do you know how crap hot water tastes?” She him her most exasperated look, but he stood firm. Slowly realization dawned on her and she relaxed, beginning to frown.

“This is another one of your smell things, isn’t it?” Manny threw his arms out in a shrug.

“Or your tea tastes like water.” He got another Look for his trouble.

“It’s a smell thing.” Rolling her eyes again, Helen picked the mug back up, shaking her head and turning towards the door. “I think we’ve got some beef broth or something, I’ll heat that up for you. Okay?” Coughing again, this time into his hand, Manny smiled at her retreating form.

“Yeah. Thanks Helen.”

“You’re welcome.”