Not all disabilities can be shown by a physical representation. I should know, because I have non-physical disabilities. If you have a non-physical disability, you should know about them.
George can be counted as having a disability cause he lost his ear, and Charlie with all the burns he has from his job working with Dragons, but we can count the non-physical ones as well.
Tonks had depression in Half-Blood Prince and Winky had it as well (and she could be classed as an alcoholic), Harry got paranoid and had panic attacks, Hermione was self-conscious about how she looked, and Neville was bullied along with Luna.
And if Neville’s parents (Frank and Alice) are, as you put it, ‘tragedy porn’, shouldn’t the same be classed for James and Lily?
The fandom call him Mad-Eye cause that’s what everybody calls him. Tonks and Molly both said it to his face in Order of the Phoenix, and he didn’t complain about it.
Lupin was killed to reinforce the fact about a child having no parents, and Moody was killed trying to protect Harry. They didn’t die in vain, or just because JKR wanted to kill them because they had a disability; they died to defeat evil.
And if you think you could write about disabilities better, you do it.
I know that this is just your opinion, but like I said, not all disabilities can be seen.
You know what I just realized?
J.K. Rowling only ever gave us two half-assed attempts at disability representation. Remus and Alastor. And I know that these are her two half-assed attempts at disability representation because she specifically brought them up in her article about her disability ‘representation’. The same article wherein she said that all Muggle disabilities would be corrected. (And the salt just keeps coming.)
So she fully admits that she gave us two characters in the entire series that were supposed to represent disabilities.
And they were weak representations.
But it doesn’t matter.
Weak or strong
She killed them anyway.
My line Art of Ariel. I'm pretty happy with it, cause I'm rubbish at drawing faces - and this face is pretty good.
*at the time of this performance, the Port Arthur massacre that resulted in 35 killed and 23 wounded was the worst mass shooting in history.
UPS DOGS is quite possibly the best group on Facebook.
I saw a pic/snapshot and it looked like he might be getting some grey hairs, so I thought it might be funny to put it in. That's okay, Len. I really enjoyed writing it. :D I don't know if John did come up with Smother Hen, but I always write the he's older then Virg, so just put that he did.
@lenle-g Here’s the fic. Sorry if I didn’t link right. Also, sorry if you don’t like the name. :)
I hadn’t liked that he had gone to help Captain O’Bannon in the first place, but he had been so adamant about going. He was used to being a ‘console jockey’ as Alan had said, only participating in the ‘rescue’ part when he had to. Alan could’ve easily gone up in Thunderbirds 3, but John had insisted on going himself, even joked with our youngest brother.
Did he feel like he had to prove himself to the rest of us? Cause if that was the case, we were going to be having words. He didn’t have to prove himself to anybody, especially not his family.
And then, to make matters worse, his comms started cutting out; giving us only snippets of what was being said. Before they went out again, it sounded like they were in trouble.
That’s when I sent Alan up. John only had his Exo-pod suit and whatever O’Bannon had on her, which I didn’t think was very much. At least there was equipment on board Thunderbird 3.
So as soon as I lost communication with Alan, I regretted not going up with him. I knew the two of them were more than capable of looking after themselves – and each other – but not being able to reach them, talk to them, worried me. Anything could happen, and I’d have no idea.
My pacing always annoyed my brothers, but it’s something I automatically did in times of trouble, and this was definitely one of those times.
In my mind, the amount of time that had transpired without comms had been longer then it actually was. It had only been about half-an-hour, but it felt like hours.
They were bickering about ghosts – and not telling Kayo or I about how they were scared – when I finally got an uninterrupted feed from the two of them. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I saw them, and release it.
Even though holograms were amazing with sound and seeing people, I couldn’t tell if they had any injuries; major or minor.
“We’re just gonna drop off our passengers, and then head home.” Alan told me, pushing a few buttons in his ‘bird, “Should be back within the hour, so no need to go all Smother Hen on us.”
It was such a relief seeing them, that I didn’t even tell him off for using the nickname that John gave me years back.
After they cut the link with the Island, my pacing resumed until the tell tale sound of Thunderbird 3 coming into land breached the otherwise quiet of our home. And when the smoke cleared from her landing, I knew it would only be a couple of minutes before they made their way back to the lounge.
Sure enough, just as the last of the smoke disappeared, the seats from Thunderbirds 3 appeared from the floor. Alan seemed relatively okay, apart from the little wince he gave when the seats jolted into place. John was better at hiding his pain, but he couldn’t hide his visible injuries.
He was wearing his worn NASA t-shirt and jeans; his pale skin marred with cuts on his cheek and newly forming bruises on his forearms, biceps, and hairline.
“Before you ask, Scott, I’m fine. Just a bit banged up.” John said, getting up from the chair and walking over to me, holding out his arms, “See? Perfectly fine.”
He couldn’t say anything else, because I almost leapt across the lounge before pulling him into a hug. I didn’t care if he was taller than me – damn gravity making him slightly taller after long periods in space. After a couple seconds of his awkward ‘what the hell do I do?’ he gently patted my back.
“Oh, don’t mind me. I didn’t do anything, did I?” Alan huffed affrontedly, but he was smiling at the two of us.
“Why did you do it Johnny? You could’ve let Alan go in your place.” I asked him, being as gentle as I could in my question and hug. I’d just caught sight of more bruises forming on his back.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question, and I don’t know.” He didn’t even mention the fact that I used a nickname he hated.
“Were you doing it to prove yourself?”
“Probably not consciously.” He shrugged the best he could with me clinging onto him like my life depended on it, “I guess I could’ve been on some level, but I wasn’t meaning for it to look like that.”
I held him out at arms length after a couple of minutes, taking every little detail about him in; from the slight bags under his eyes, to the way his shoulders slouched, to how he held himself.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again. I can’t afford to be going grey at my age.”
“Too late for that, Scotty.” Alan commented, wiggling his way between us, “You already have a few grey hairs.”
We all started laughing, bringing each other in for another brief hug.
“Alright you.” I pointed at John, “Time to get you looked at. And you’re Earth-bound until further notice.”
“Come on, Scott.”
“Don’t argue with me. When you’re healed up a bit, you can go back up, but until then, it’s time to stay on Earth for a while.”
“Fine.”
We started making our way down to the med-bay, when I just had to say one other thing to my immediate younger brother.
“You know, you did pretty well for a console jockey.”
When you get the whole class an A on the test
hs yearbook meme ▷ teen wolf + most changed ↳ asked by @dearesthale
“I was evolving. Something you’ll never do.”
Love is never wrong!
I'm a writer, a little strange, and a serial series watcher. That's about all there is to me. Find me on https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxikCherrys16/pseuds/ToxikCherrys16 and https://m.fanfiction.net/u/4642750/ToxikCherrys16
295 posts