#I must say that I am not an amputee myself

[naruthandir]

I am literally so obsessed with the "Idril is an amputee and she uses prosthetics and that's why she is called silverfeet" headcanon. I know it is a reference to her going barefoot and probably being a good dancer, but listen. Listen. The fact that this attribute was remarcable enough to grant her this epithet says a lot. Imagining her feet being made of literal silver makes so much sense to me. I know a lot of people draw Maedhros as an amputee too, even though we only know he lost his arm, and nowhere in the text we see reference to him using prosthetics. And I think it'd be nice to have more visibly disabled characters that are also not as dark, if you get my meaning. I've seen many people say things like "The more Maedhros falters, the more scars he gets" or "the more he looks like an orc" and while this is a compelling idea (and one that fits quite well with the text) it also kind of implies "uglyness" and disability to be a moral failing.

And makes sense somewhat, to see the world like that, and feel that way, if you get your injuries fighting in a war. But those on the battlefield are not the only ones getting trauma, civilians loose so much too! Idril falling into the freezing water and loosing her mother were, in a way, "casualties" of the violence caused by the elves. It must have been a traumatic experience for her, loosing a part of herself literally and metaphorically. Yet, unlike other amputees from the legendarium (including Beren, who you guys know I love), she has not killed anyone, she has not set foot in battle or fallen victim to greed. She is bright and hopeful, a leader of her people in times of need, someone who took a mortal to Aman even though it was prohibited. She goes on, despite everything.

The image of the elves crossing the ice, walking slowly and dreadfully, is very vivid in my mind. Many died, and it is not unlikely that some lost their limbs to frostbite. In Idril's case, this would be her feet. But the fact that she keep walking, even then, I think, is a demonstration of great resilience and loyalty and hope. Someone with a good ending.

And we all like to think of the Noldor as being able to create prosthetics. So like, just think about it. Idril, Silver Feet, dancing in the moonlight with such elegant skill, and then sitting down to rest on the grass, setting her prosthetics aside, feeling the warmth of this summer night all over her skin, and being genuinely content under the starlight.

I want disabled people to be happy, is what I'm saying. Do you share my vision.

[emophil81]

„New student“ - an amputee story (fiction)

I was sitting in the auditorium of my university. It was the first day of the new semester. Nearly everybody was chatting before the beginning of the lecture to bring each other up to date on what happened during the summer break. I wasn’t talking to anyone I just sat there and was typing away at my computer. I was sitting in the front row, my usual place during all lectures I attended. Normally I was alone in that row, because none of the other students wanted to sit there.

Then I saw him for the first time when he entered the auditorium. It was a rather strange sight. He must have been in his late teens or early twenties. He had a stylish haircut, I guessed his hair was dyed black from the looks of it, he had two snakebite piercings in his mouth and he wore a band shirt and a black skinny jeans. But what was really special about this young man was that he had no arms and no left leg.

He was sitting in an electric wheelchair, his right foot was resting on a special foot control which was mounted on the only footrest the wheelchair had. He was barefooted and I spotted that he wore two toe rings and also a wrist (or rather ankle) watch. On the back of his wheelchair mounted on his backrest was a small rainbow flag mounted with the white lettered word „PRIDE“ written over both sides. I was stunned, I was gay but also a devotee, meaning I like guys who miss some of their limbs.

This young triple amputee guy, dressed like a metal band fan- or skaterboy was pushing all my gay buttons at once. I actually got hard right there when I saw him maneuvering his wheelchair to the end of the first row, just a few seats away from me. I was intrigued would he remain in his wheelchair? He stopped his wheelchair a few paces beside the front row. Then he put his right foot in front of his chair and stood up. He made two small hops to balance himself. It was funny how he outstretched his two small armstumps to help him achieve that. It was quite adorable. I noticed, that the left leg of his trouser was just cut off and not sewn shut as a kind of rebel fashion statement I guessed. He looked around. Then he caught my eye and smiled at me.

„Hi, is the seat beside you already taken?“ he asked in my direction looking directly at me. His voice was smooth and had a nice deep timbre. „Ahm…no. It’s not taken, you can sit here if you want.“ I answered a bit nervous. „Thanks. I have just one favor to ask you for. Could you get my laptop out of my bag at the back of my wheelchair please. Normally I can take it out myself, but it takes some time and the lecture is starting shortly. Would you be so kind and help me take it out?“ he just put on the biggest boyish smile I have ever seen on a grown up man’s face. Right there, I fell in love for this cute amputated scene boy.

„Of course, no problem at all.“ I said, stood up and got his laptop out of his wheelchair bag. I put it up on the table in front of the seat right beside mine. „Is that ok so?“ I asked him. „Yes thanks!“ he said and then he started to take small steps into the first row and hopped to the seat beside me. He sat down and then he put his right foot up on the table and opened his Laptop. „I am Brandon by the way, thanks again for helping me.“ he stretched out his foot towards me and I took his right foot in my hand. The sole was only slightly damp his whole foot was rather smooth and soft. I was nearly shaking while I hold his foot. „I am Tom or Tommy, whatever you like.“ I said and shook his foot.

„I enrolled here over the summer. My parents moved here.“ Brandon explained to me. „Are you from around here Tom?“ „No I am living in the student dormitories. I have a single room, just got it this semester.“ I actually don’t know why I told him, that I had a room for myself. „Cool, so no parents controlling you or siblings to bother you, you are your own master so to speak of.“ Brandon commented with a smile. „Yeah, you could say that.“ The Professor came in and the lecture started.

Brandon followed the lecture quite attentive, like me. He typed on his Laptop pretty fast by using his second toe while the big toe was stretched apart. He was nearly as fast as myself with 10 fingers it was pretty amazing to watch actually. His left leg stump was sometimes twitching and flailing on the seat, I saw that out of the corner of my eye. At the end of the lecture we were given a partner task by our professor. Before I could say something, Brandon told the professor: „Sir, Tommy and I are partnering for that homework assignment.“ He pointed with his foot at me and him in quick succession to emphsize his point. The professor looked at him and just nodded in our direction.

He looked at me, „Awesome, we are going to work together Tommy. Listen, this is my number. I suggest we meet at your dorm after the lunch break. Ok?“ he was speaking so fast I nearly couldn’t keep up with him and his thoughts. In his foot he was holding a piece of paper containing his mobile number. I took it. He seemed so excited about this that I was wondering if he might also had a crush on me. „Oh…ok. So we meet at my dorm. It’s at Dormitory B, Apartment 202. But I don’t know if there is a lift for you.“ I told him. Brandon just smiled. „If not, I am always in need of some training. See you later.“ and with that he hopped back to his wheelchair and left the auditorium in his power chair. Seeing him hopping around was somewhat sexy I thought. His arm stumps and his leg stump were bouncing slightly up and down while he hopped around. I am honest with you, that made me a bit hard.

When I came back to my dorm room, I started to tidy up my room a bit. I wanted to make a good first impression on Brandon when he visited me later today. I looked at my wall, where the huge rainbow flag was hanging. We hadn’t talked about our sexual preferences yet and I hadn’t asked him about his gay pride flag on the backrest of his wheelchair. But if he would see the flag when he came over later it would be pretty obvious that we both play for the same team I thought. I was excited, Brandon would be the first real amputee I would meet who also happens to be my age and who looked pretty hot too. I set up my laptop on my desk, so that we could start right away to do our homework.

I had just finished setting up my laptop and then I walked downstairs into the lobby to wait for Brandon. Because our dorm wasn’t wheelchair accessible I thought I should at least help or rather support him to get up to my room. I had changed into some shiny basketball shorts and a T Shirt with the mascot of my old Highschool printed all over them. I was wearing a pair of white socks and a pair of Adidas slides. I sat down on some of the couches in the lobby and waited for Brandon to arrive.

With me in the lobby were some of the other guys living at the dorm. They were chatting loudly with each other or watched TV on the plasma TV that was mounted on the wall of the lobby. I saw him in his wheelchair driving up to the entrance of the dorm. Someone was just leaving our dorm and hold the entrance door open for him, so that he could enter the lobby with his power chair. Brandon looked around and when he spotted me he smiled.

„Hi Tommy, so good to see you.“ he greeted me by waving with his right foot. „Hi Brandon, good to see you again. Shall we go upstairs?“ „Oh yeah, I would love to see your man cave up there. Nice outfit by the way and cool school mascot. I love tigers. Ours was quite lame, it was a beaver.“ he laughed and pointed to the mascot on my shorts. „Well I never was that much into sports at school, but I liked the style of our mascot. So thanks for the compliment. Your outfit is cool as well, by the way.“ I said. „I try to look as sharp and cool as I can manage. It helps sometimes to break the ice, because it’s not that common to see someone like me, you know, a triple amputee with only one leg left.“ He blushed which I thought was kind of cute. I noticed that some of the other guys were starting to stare at Brandon and some were whispering with each other.

„So shall we go upstairs to my room then and start to work Brandon?“ „Sure thing.“ he said and followed me with his power chair to the staircase. „So no lift just as you told me at our lecture right Tommy?“ „I am afraid so yes, this is not one of the newer and more accessible dorms. Are you okay with going up the stairs on your own?“ Brandon laughed. „You are so sweet to worry about me Tommy. See, I have been like this for nearly 5 years now and I have learned to find my way around. But thanks for being so concerned about me.“

Brandon parked his wheelchair beside the stairs and then he did the same thing as in the auditorium. He stood up and found his balance with two small hops. Then I saw for the first time, that he wasn’t wearing his toe rings and his watch. „Please don’t tell me that your room is at the top floor of the dorm.“ Brandon said and smirked while he hopped to the bottom of the steps. „Oh no, it’s on the second floor. So, no need to worry about much more stairs then one flight of steps, Brandon, that ok?“ I asked him somewhat concerned. „Yeah that’s totally fine.“

I watched him as he leaned with his left side against the wall of the staircase. The side where he was missing his leg. It was really interesting to see how skillfully he steadied himself with his left arm stump against the wall while at the same time he hopped up the stairs one by one. He was quite fast too. „Your good at this“ I said to him from behind. „Thanks, years of practice and some pretty nasty falls too made me quite the pro in going up stairs on one leg.“ he answered. At the top of the stairs he waited for me. He looked so hot standing there on his one bare foot. „My room is the third one on the right to your left actually.“ I said and Brandon started to hop in that direction.

When we came to the door of my room, I opened it with my key and let us in. „Nice, thanks for letting me in.“ „You’re Welcome.“ I took off my slides and walked to my desk chair. „You can sit on the bed if you like, Brandon. I think that’s more comfortable.“ He hopped over to the bed, turned around and sat himself down. He folded his bare foot in front of him. Brandon glanced at my gay pride flag and smiled. „That’s the confirmation then. You are gay like me, aren’t you Tommy?“ „Well guilty as charged your honor.“ I answered shrugging my shoulders and grinned at him. „So shall we start with our homework? We can talk after that and perhaps order something to eat.“ Brandon suggested. „Good Idea, let’s start.“

We were working for two hours straight and finished our tasks in no time. He not only looked adorable, Brandon was also smart as hell I thought. When we finished sending the email to our professor with the task from my laptop, Brandon stretched out his foot and scratched his nose. „Ok so now, ask me.“ he said suddenly. „Excuse me?“ I said. „Tommy, you stared at me right when I came into the auditorium this morning and you watched me nearly the whole time during our lecture. So just ask me how it happened. Ask me how I, Brandon Taylor, lost my arms and my left leg.“ I was stunned. He caught me, but he didn’t seem to be angry at all.

„Well…ahm…what happened?“ I asked him.

„I was stupid. Just stupid. It happened a few years ago I was in highschool and a pretty normal kid, I loved to skateboard. It was a bet I made with some of my Skateboarding friends. In my hometown there is this huge and pretty steep hill. A narrow and curved road is leading up there. I made a bet, that I would beat my friends in going downhill on that road on my board and I would be the first one down at the bottom of the street. We started the race and I was in front. Unfortunately a garbage truck was driving up at the same time we where racing downhill. It hit me and my arms and my left leg got crushed. When I woke up in the hospital I was like this. And I can tell you physical therapy was one hell of a long road to go. But at the end I made it and I can live quite independently now.“ I was shocked. I looked at him and in fact I had to fight with tears. „Oh Brandon. How old were you?“ „I was 17 years old, I am 21 now. But I am used to, well, being me if you like. Oh and before you ask, I was already out to my family and friends as being gay with 15. They all supported me.“ he was sitting there on the bed and looked at his toes, while he used them to play with the duvet. „And I have one last question for you Tommy.“ I was locking eyes with him. „Tommy, are you by any means possible a gay devotee?“

I started to breathe heavily, I was shocked, but like being in trance I answered him, I whispered: „Yes, yes Brandon I am a gay devotee!“ I looked at my socked feet and I started to sob and to cry. „Oh god, I am so embarrassed. Brandon I am so sorry, you must hate me right now. Please…I…I don’t know what to…“ Brandon robbed to the top of the bed by propelling himself with his right foot. „Tommy, shhhh, it’s alright.“ he patted me with his bare foot on the cheek and he lifted my chin up with his toes so that I was looking into his face. „Tommy, look at me. It’s ok, I am ok with devotees, I am not offended that you find my missing limbs attractive. On the contrary, I like the idea, that I have that mesmerizing effect on you.“

„Really, you are not mad at me?“ Brandon shook his head. „Come here.“ Brandon put his foot softly behind my head and pulled me towards him. It was our first kiss. He tasted nice, like a mix of peppermint and lemon. I moaned into the kiss. When we finally broke up our kiss, he smiled. „So, we are finished with homework. We are in your room, no one disturbs us here, which is really awesome by the way, and we are two gay young men who are totally into each other, so come here on your bed and let’s make out Tommy.“

Brandon robbed up against the wall behind my bed by using his foot, he was smiling coyly at me and tapped with his foot beside him on the mattress. I was standing up from my desk chair and walked over to the bed. I climbed up on the mattress and crawled on all fours to him. I snuggled up to him on his right side and started fumbling with my own fingers. Looking down shyly at my own feet. Brandon started to rub his right foot against my left foot. I literally froze, when he touched me there. „Tommy, you have to relax, everything is alright! You are still so tense.“ said Brandon and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, he smiled at me. Why was this guy always smiling at me in this angelic fashion?

„Let’s start to get you undressed then.“ Brandon proposed. I watched him how he used his foot to peel my left sock of my foot. It was so fun to watch his dexterous foot and toes at work. „It’s amazing how adept you are with that foot of yours. It must have been hard to learn to use your foot like a hand, Brandon.“ „Mhm…my first physical therapy trainer really was a bitch! She outright tortured me with all those training sessions, but I am glad she did. In the end, this is all I have left and I can use it as a replacement for my hand today.“ While he talked, Brandon had managed to peel of my second sock also. They were lying crumbled up at my feet. Brandon took one sock in his foot and put it to his nose, he took a deep breath „Tommy I like that your socks are all sweaty and dirty they smell so nice. I want to unpack you, like the present you are to me today Tommy.“

Brandon turned sideways. He leaned back slightly and I watched him as he stuck his foot in the waistband of my shiny shorts. He closed his eyes slightly and looked quite concentrated while he took of my shorts with some effort. I lifted my legs from time to time to assist him, but I wanted him to do it on his own. I didn’t wear any underwear so I blushed when he looked at my half hard penis for the first time after he managed to take off my shorts. „Oh, I like what I see already.“ said Brandon, gave my penis a playful little notch with his toes and I just giggled. He just smiled.

„Can you help me a bit Tommy and lift up your arms? I want to free you of that t shirt.“ „Yes of course.“ I lifted my arms and Brandon took off my t shirt in one go by holding the seam between his toes and then he lifted the t shirt over my arms and my head. I was sitting on my bed stark naked, undressed by the most hot triple amputee I have ever met. He looked at me longingly and bit his lip. „God, you are so gorgeous Tommy.“ I blushed. „I don’t know if I am that gorgeous Brandon.“ „No you are definitely pretty and hot.“ I looked at him and he smiled again. „It’s unfair, you are sitting there fully clothed and I am naked. I would love to unwrap you too.“ „Then come here.“ I kneeled beside Brandon and started carefully to undress him. First I pulled of the black skinny jeans. Brandon was wearing a black boxershorts under his jeans, there was a bulge in it. Then I took off his t Shirt. I first saw his two short armstumps. The left was slightly longer than the right, but both were very short. At the tip there were small scars on both of them.

The surgeons did a good job I thought. I started to take off his boxer shorts. His penis sprang to attention. „Oh there is someone excited.“ I said. Brandon smirked and looked down at his hardon. I started to touch Brandon’s stumps. He closed his eyes and he moaned contently. „Does it still hurt?“ I asked him while I stroked his arm stumps. „No, not anymore, Tommy. Go on, that feels so nice.“ He pulled his right leg up and tried with his toes to grab the duvet to release some of his tension.

„I would like to make you happy Brandon.“ I started to grab his Penis. „Oh God, Tommy, yes, please make me happy!“ I started to rub his penis. Slowly at first and then faster and faster. I was using my other hand to touch his leg stump. It was as if his stumps lead a life of their own. They were twitching and flailing, while I masturbated him, I loved to lock at them. Brandon closed his eyes and bit his lip. I stopped stroking him. He looked anxiously at me. „Is something wrong Tommy?“ I smiled at him. „Are you into ass play?“ Brandon looked me deeply in the eyes and smiled at me. „Oh yes totally.“ Brandon said. I fetched my dildo from my closet and a tube of lube.

I smeared some lube on the dildo and then on the Anus of Brandon also. His small hole puckered in anticipation. „You ready?“ I asked him softly. Brandon nodded and he stretched his leg to his right, so that it wasn’t in my way. He looked so vulnerable in front of me, he shrugged his armstumps. I started to insert the dildo slowly into his hole. He inhaled sharply. But I continued. When the dildo was immersed fully into his hole, I stopped. Then I started to move the dildo in and out. „Oh god, Tommy, that is awesome, please fuck me!“ Brandon shook his head in pure bliss as I fucked him with my dildo.

When I found the ideal speed, to fuck Brandon, I then started to rub his penis again. „Mhmmm, that feels so good. Ahhh Tommy, it is so hot!“ I looked him in the face. I wanted to see Brandon’s cum face. I wanked him faster and faster. Then I felt his dick pulsating in my Hand. I stroked him one last time. „Ohhhh, I am cuuuuuummmmiiiing!“ he screamed. I hold his dick in my hand directing upwards. He shot four huge loads of cum, all over him, then it was oozing out of his piss slit, flowing over my hand.

Brandon huffed and he was shivering from lust, his stumps twitching uncontrollably. I patted him on the chest. „It’s alright. You’re done.“ I smiled and snuggled up to him. „Thanks for this first round Tommy, I think it won’t be the last.“

„No certainly not.“ I said.

[u10como]

A Devotee's manifesto

This message is targeted more at people outside our community than any single one of us:

I know you normies consider us sick, perverted and crazy, but i must ask: Why does it bother you? Whom do we hurt? Most of people like me are harmess, living their lives, relegating their interests to world of unreal fantasies which will never come true. Even more of people like me are closeted, still yet to realize their nature. Yet, you associate us all with a minority among us, which is disrespectful of other people's personal space, which goes around bothering actual amputees.

Know this: Most of us also find this behavior deplorable and we have nothing but respect to actual amputees. Best we can do is to try and help these bad apples to realize their errors, but there's not much else we can do - Just as much as any other community out there can't do much about their respective toxic minorities.

Don't be the ones actively alienating us. Most of us are perfectly content with being considered weird and we know there's no way around it: We were born like that, it's our nature and while we absolutely can control it like any other normal person, we can't change it.

And I personally wouldn't even want to even if i could: This is part of myself and even though i live pretty mundane life outside DeviantArt, Tumblr and other places where like-minded people might be found, i'm not sure i would be the same person without it. This applies to both us "devotees" (people attracted to disabled people) and to the community of so-called "wannabes", or people with BIID to use politically correct term (i don't mind being called devotee, it's a short, simple one-word term, but some people might take offense). Our two communities are closely tied together both by significant demographic overlap and by our, let's say, mutually symbiotic nature.

All we want to do is to live our lifes. If the world isn't fit for us to publically exist in it as we are meant to, at least don't take our fantasies away. I am always open to civil discussion based in mutual respect and understanding, but calling me sick fuck and promptly blocking me before i can respond is not that.

End of this PSA. Thank you for reading.

[chimcess]

Waterlog {P.J.M.}

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Doctor!Jimin, Swim Coach! Reader, Disabled! Reader, Ex alcoholic!Jimin,  Ex alcoholic!Reader, Ex. Drug addict!Reader, AA! AU Genre: Recovering Addict! AU, Strangers to lovers! AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Eventual Fluff, Mutual Pining Word Count: 29.2k+ Synopsis:  wa·ter·log|verb|to saturate with water “For just a second of a second, I was floating. We were alone, him and I, and no one else mattered. I felt myself breathe and managed to give him a small smile. He responded with another blinding show of teeth, and I swore I saw my entire life play out at that moment.” Playlist Warnings: Talks of past drug use, talks of past alcohol abuse, discussions of significant death (does not happen in story), Reader has significant major depression and anxiety, Reader has a prosthetic leg, Talks of a bad car accident, Talks of drunk driving, Small town leads to gossips and rumors, Jimin is a suffer in silence type, ANGST, Mentions of toxic relationships (not between MC and Jimin), Side character death (not in story), descriptive talks about drugs, discussions of relapses, violence, near-death experiences (in and out of the story), almost drowning, Strong language, kissing, intense make out, Talks of prosthetics and disabilities, Reader has not come to terms with being an amputee, Bitterness, Guilt, Huge insecurities, Jimin and MC are working towards getting better A/N: She’s done! This has been the longest AU I’ve ever completed in a one-shot format, and I am unbelievably happy. I would also like to note that this story is in no way a glorification of drug abuse or alcoholism. I am a victim of users and am trying to lessen the stigma surrounding the addicts out there. People change, people grow, and while they slip up, people can get better. Addiction can be anywhere at any time and change people forever. While this is a heavy story and topic, I hope you enjoy the read. I put so much love and care into this. I put everything I was working on hold for this monster of mine, and I sincerely wish you all like it. She is edited but I could have missed a few things.

I also use some medical terminology. While researching prosthetics, amputees, and everything that goes into a day-to-day lifestyle, I could get a few things wrong. As well as the swimming terminology in here, I am by no means a professional swimmer. I can’t swim at all. So, please forgive me. I tried to watch videos of amputees swimming to get an idea of the body movements, but they could still be a bit off. Again, I apologize. As always, my inbox and asks are always open! Please let me know if I missed anything because she’s massive!

The building was the same as ever. The bricks crumble at the edges; dark moss covers their borders, and overgrown grass brushes against the bottom of the door. I knew this place very well. Sarah and Frank were here already; I saw their cars in the parking lot. Jan had called to tell me about a new member joining us this evening. I could not remember his name. Was it Jim? I could recall it being a bit different. It must be foreign. She did not say what he was in or anything else besides that he was new in town, but I did not need to know specifics. We all came to this building for the same reason. Drugs and alcohol. In my case: both.

 As I was walking toward the building, I saw Yoongi pull in. He was a good friend of mine and had been since he moved here; the two of us usually sat next to one another at meetings. Yoongi was a recovering heroin addict. After playing basketball in college, Yoongi got addicted to pain pills after a shoulder injury. Once those ran up, it just got progressively worse. Suddenly, Yoongi was snorting dope. It took him six months to start shooting up. Five years to get sober. After he discovered he would be a dad, Yoongi wanted to be better for his daughter. Now, he is going on his seventh straight year in sobriety. Yoongi was one of the few people in town who got it. Everyone who went to that building did.

I waited for him to park and catch up with me before going inside together. Yoongi did not talk much, nor did I, so we often just said hello and nothing more. I still looked at him as a good friend, and I was sure he felt the same way because Yoongi was blunt. If he did not like me, he would not sit beside me. He would not tell me hello if he did not look at me as a friend. And in a way, we understand one another. Both of our dreams were stolen away far too early. Yoongi injured his shoulder so severely that he could never play basketball the same again. I lost my leg and would never be able to swim again—two sides of the same coin.

“Heard about the new guy?” Yoongi whispered when we got to our seats.

Sarah and Frank were in the back brewing coffee for everyone; I guessed since they were not in the group room, I could smell the heavy scent in the air. My mouth watered lightly in anticipation. I loved Community coffee. It was comforting to me.  Almost just as comforting as diving into a pool. However, it has been years since I was able to do that. So long that I could hardly remember the sensation, but I could never forget the serenity over me under the water. Never. I could use a drink.

“Yeah, Janice called me yesterday. Didn’t say much.”

“He’s a doctor or something. He’s working at Children’s Hospital.”

“A pediatrician?”

“Yeah, he’s a pulmonologist,” Taehyung practically yelled.

“What the fuck?” I jumped, yelling loud enough for the entire building to hear.

“Jesus Christ, Taehyung. Stop doing that shit,” Yoongi clutched his chest and glared at the younger man.

“Heh, sorry, guys,” Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck.

Taehyung Kim was a sweet guy. If someone had told me he was a recovering addict, I had to admit I would not believe them. He was so bright and full of energy. I could not see him sleeping in a sleeping bag and smoking crack in an abandoned building. Meeting Taehyung today and knowing who he was only a year ago is unsettling. It is crazy what drugs can do to someone.

“What the fuck is a pul-monopoly or whatever you said?” Yoongi curled his eyebrow up.

“Lung doctor. He’s coming from New York,” Taehyung lit up like a Christmas tree. “Hyung! He’s Korean, too.”

“No shit?” Yoongi smiled a rare gummy grin.

I knew how much that meant to Yoongi. While Taehyung was born in the states, Yoongi was not. His parents are in Daegu, South Korea, and he has not seen them. They had spoken about six years ago when Yoongi was still deep in his addiction. He told them about him being a father, and they did take it well. He refused to get married, and his father told him he only had one son from that day on, Yoongi’s older brother, Geum-Jae. He never talked about it much, but I knew he liked to speak Korean. It reminded him of home. It is the main reason I started to take lessons. It is the same reason Yoongi watched the Olympics with me. People like us stick together.

“Coffee is ready,” Frank called out, voice deep and husky.

I liked Frank and his wife Sarah; they were good people. Frank was the man who started this whole thing up about six years ago after his son, Leon, died in a drunk driving accident on Highway 42. I had known Leon, we had grown up in the same small town, but he was five years older than me. He had a drinking problem during his senior year, no one found out why until after his death, but I could remember Frank and Sarah knocking at my parent’s door in the middle of the night, asking if they had seen him. That night Leon had snuck out to go to a party at Jake Harvey’s, got plastered, and then decided to drive home. Fell asleep at the wheel and flipped six times. Frank and Sarah fell apart but founded the local AA support group to offer help to those in need before it was too late. It reminded me about Him.

I looked at Yoongi. We usually took turns getting coffee for one another, and a nod was all I needed. He shook his head. Weird. I rose my eyebrow in question. Yoongi never said no to coffee. It was his energy source. It had always been our only way to make it through these meetings. The town was small, and everyone would know if you had a problem coming here. In my case, they would know I had a problem if I did not show up every week. I could see the bags under his eyes and become more concerned.

“I’m trying to go decaf. The wife has been commenting on my caffeine addiction. Mai is starting to whine about not drinking coffee like me.”

“That bad?”

“I’m up to three pots a day now.”

“Holy cow,” Taehyung’s eyes were wide. “And I thought Y/N had a problem.”

“Go to hell,” I joked and stood up to get a cup.

“Get me a cup?” I heard Jin call out. He must have just walked in.

“On it, Jin.”

The coffee room was a tiny supply closet that Sarah had converted into a makeshift kitchen. It was big enough to fit a small table, a mini-fridge, a coffee pot, and a small shelving unit for snacks, water bottles, and coffee grinds. No more than two people, except Matilda and Frank, could fit in at once. He was so small three of us could do it. Matilda was too large for anyone else but herself. Foam cups were placed beside the pot, and I double-cupped both of us to prevent the coffee from burning our hands-off. The cups were very cheap and horrible at insulating. Jin enjoyed his coffee with the caramel creamer Sarah loved. I drank my black like Yoongi. As I finished mixing Jin’s, I heard a commotion from the front of the house. The doctor must be in.

A small crowd had formed. I noticed Matilda had finally gotten here as well as Hoseok. In the middle of it was the man of the hour. Jimin smiled brightly, teeth on full display, and I felt the air leave my lungs. He was gorgeous, undeniably so. His hair pushed back and jet black, lips plump, and smooth pale skin glowing under the lights. His chest strained against a white turtleneck and the black dress pants he worse fit him nicely. Jimin was handsome, and I felt I could not approach him. Of course, that was not plausible since Taehyung caught my eye, a giant grin on his face. I would be social and friendly, I told myself. Yoongi and Taehyung are both handsome, and we get along great. Hell, Jin was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. Up until now, my subconscious screamed. I ignored it.

“Y/N! Come here. Meet Dr.Park!” He shouted, excited.

And then we made eye contact. It was brief and hardly even a moment, if I could call it that—just a fraction of a second. Jimin’s eyes were a beautiful honey brown, shining brightly, dazzling me. It felt as though I was drowning. For just a second of a second, I was floating. We were alone, him and I, and no one else mattered. I felt myself breathe and managed to give him a small smile. He responded with another blinding show of teeth, and I swore I saw my entire life play out at that moment. Who the hell is this man?

I walked over far more confident than I felt and gave Jin his coffee. He thanked me softly before turning his attention back to Jimin. I did the same. He looked expectant, and I realized he was waiting for another warm welcome. I was horrible at those. I felt my hands clammy, and the room was a hundred degrees warmer than when I had left. Why am I acting this way?

“Hello, you’re the new guy, right?” I lamely asked and made no move to shake his hand.

The handsome stranger did not need to know how badly my hands were shaking nor how much sweat was pooled on them.

“Dr.Jimin Park,” His voice was sweet and melodic, “It’s nice to meet you.” He sounded genuine. I loved honest people.

“Y/N. I hope you like it here.” My face was burning, my embarrassment at how awkward I was taking over.

“I’m sure I will.”

“Y/N get this,” Hoseok wrapped his arm around me, far too close for comfort, “Jimin is from Vegas.”

“I grew up in Vegas; I was born in South Korea.” Jimin corrected shyly.

I melted.

“And he went to Harvard for medical school.” Matilda chimed in.

“Please, this isn’t necessary,” Jimin again stepped in.

I could tell he did not enjoy being the center of attention. His feet shuffled uncomfortably in front of him, and he twiddled his thumbs together. He bit his lip when he was nervous; I knew that before I had learned anything else. The way he ran his fingers through his hair. How he giggled and ducked his head down. His neck turned red, and his breath picked up ever so slightly.

“That’s nice. Good for you,” I said softly before shrugging Hoseok’s arm off me. “Now, can we please get the meeting started? We’re here to talk about feelings, not our accomplishments. That’s for the end of the month.”

Yoongi laughed, as did Jimin, while everyone else rolled their eyes and complained about my “party-pooping.” I did not care. I wished to go home before I got any more wrapped up with the good doctor. I completely remembered my situation and wanted to go home even more. I wore a dress to work today, which meant I wore a dress to the meeting, which told that Jimin had seen my leg. Or lack thereof, I should say. I suddenly felt even more insecure than I had before. It was time to reexplain again. It was time to watch pity fall upon another face. I had yet to find someone who wanted me after the accident, and a man like Jimin, a beautiful man like him, would never give me a second glance. I shuttered in my seat and closed in on myself.

Here we go again.

Frank started the meeting as he always did, introducing himself and telling us about his week. Sarah always followed, and then the floor was ours. Frank and Sarah had plumbing issues, and it cost a pretty penny for them to fix them. They are struggling with money and ask everyone to pitch for the communal snack bar for the rest of the month. No one would have a problem with that; I was confident. I would pick up coffee and creamer. Everyone else could do what they wanted. Sarah was struggling with her mental health but was feeling better. Frank said they had had a bad day or two but felt okay other than that. And then it was our turn.

“Hi, my name is Taehyung. Tae started. I’m an addict.”

“Hi, Taehyung.” Everyone replied.

“This week was nice. I had no bad days; I still struggled to sleep, but I was good overall. Uh, I was busy with work,” He turned to Jimin, “I work at the shipyard repairing boats.” He returned his attention to Frank, “I’m thinking about getting a dog, so I don’t feel as lonely at home. I think having a responsibility could help me not get bored.”

“I think that’s a great idea, Tae,” Sarah smiled. “Remember how much Jin’s sugar gliders helped him?”

We all laughed. Seokjin Kim, or just Jin, was an odd man. He had moved here not long after I returned from college and started working at my father’s auto shop. He had been in recovery for eleven months and still going strong. He was an alcoholic who got into fights. He sometimes tells stories that are hard to believe at times, but Jin was never one to lie, so I never doubted their truth. I had never seen anyone in this room in active addiction, though a good majority saw me in mine- Jin included, and it never ceased to amaze me the changes they had made.

“I’ll help you look around,” Jin offered. “I guess I’ll go next. Hi, my name’s Jin. I’m an alcoholic.”

“Hi, Jin.”

And the same thing happened all around the room. Nothing crazy had happened. Everyone had a lovely week. Jin had bought a new car on Tuesday. Matilda finally got a raise at the nail salon. Hoseok completed his month of fasting and was happy with the results. Even Yoongi, who usually did not speak much during meetings, opened up about how excited he was to go to Mai’s first dance recital. Little Mai Min loved tap dance, and Yoongi and his wife, Megan, had invited me to go with them. Jimin was up next.

“Hi, my name is Jimin. I’m an alcoholic.”

“Hi, Jimin.”

“My week has been very eventful. Big move from New York and all. I am excited to be here. I hope to get to know you all very well and become friends. I brought my cat with me; her name is Serendipity, and she’s my emotional support animal. I finished my residency about two months ago and am working out at Children’s.”

“Nice to know you, Jimin. Hope we get to hear more about you next week.” Frank smiled at him and then turned to me.

Let's get this over with, I thought to myself.

“Hi, my name’s Y/N. I’m an addict.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

I took a deep breath, “I had a good week until yesterday afternoon. It’s still hard to be around the pool, but I can’t find it to stop, you know? The boys were meeting as usual on Tuesday, and Jungkook- the Jeon boy- beat my old record. And as happy as I was for him, I screamed, shouted, and hugged him so tightly that it felt like things were over. I was finally out of the pool forever, and it hurt. It hurt.”

“It’s okay to feel that way, honey,” Sarah assured, voice gentle and not unkind.

“No, it isn’t,” I felt tears coming to my eyes. “It’s been almost four years since the accident, and I still feel stuck.”

“Now,” Frank chastised, “Everyone processes things differently. You’re not ready, but you’re getting there. These things take time, Y/N. Your whole world flipped upside down within a few hours; no one expects that to go away.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Well, they don’t have to live your life. You do. They get to judge without being in your shoes. You lost Namjoon, your leg, and your career in one night. That’s a lot to process on your own.”

“Be kinder to yourself,” Yoongi said softly, rubbing my shoulder.

“Exactly,” Sarah smiled at me, eyes filled with concern.

I nodded but said no more. I wanted to leave even more now. I was angry with myself for oversharing. I briefly made eye contact with Jimin and was embarrassed at the look on his face. He looked sad for me. And confusion is expected when you are unfamiliar with the story. I send him a glare, my anger at myself being taken out on a nice man, but I could not find it. This week was shit. Today is shit. I want to go home.

I found that alcohol called my name more often than the pills did. I drank more than I popped until the end, and in a way, my brain almost justified the drinks. It was not illegal. Neither were the pills until I started buying them off the streets. I shook my head in disgust. I needed to get home and distract myself—anything but sitting through this meeting for another second. I kept my mouth shut for the rest of the hour, listening to what everyone was saying in between losing myself in my thoughts again. Joon would not be happy about this. I shook my head again to get his name out of my head.

“See you all next week!” Sarah shouted, startling me out of my thoughts.

I got up quickly and said my goodbyes to Yoongi and Taehyung. The both of them were grabbing a burger with Dr.Park. I declined the offer to tag along. I had neither the appetite nor patience for chit-chat. I wanted- no- needed to get home. I could feel my anxiety beginning to boil over. Therefore, I never shared in the group. Every time I try, I choke up, and it is impossible to have a typical functioning day afterward. I loathe these Monday meetings as they usually set the tone for the rest of my week.

I heard laughing as I unlocked my car and saw the group of men leaving. Both Jin and Hoseok decided to tag along. I was even happier I had declined. As much as I enjoyed them individually, Jin and Hoseok put together asked for a migraine. I smiled and popped my truck to throw my bag back inside. It was such a mess that my hatchback was the only space not littered with papers, receipts, and old McDonald’s bags. I need to clean my car, I thought. I knew I would not.

Then I heard it. It was loud but sweet, almost childlike in its inflection. I heard around just in time to see Dr.Park with his head thrown back and the biggest smile I had ever seen. He was probably laughing at something Taehyung said, if I was taking a guess, and he lightly stumbled on his feet before laughing harder at himself. I found myself smiling. His good mood was contagious, and I envied him for being able to laugh so freely. He had a dimple. Joon had two.

My smile was gone again. I needed to go. I slammed my trunk shut and quickly got inside, missing the pair of eyes following my every move.

“Let’s go, guys!” I yelled, blowing my whistle to catch my team’s attention.

The twelve boys got quiet immediately. We had just finished warming up, and I allowed all of them a water break. They needed to have periods of rest in between our strenuous practices. I had a 2800-yard routine prepared, 800 of those done during our warm-ups, and the rest divided between our main set and cooldowns. Jungkook was smiling brightly at me. I smiled back and swallowed my bitterness. I wanted to be him. I wanted to be young and swim in this pool again. I cleared my throat.

“Alright, so we have a 1600 main set. In between each of our reps, we will be doing a switch out of easy breast and backstrokes. Clear?”

“Crystal!” They shouted in unison, making me chuckle.

“Alright. We’re starting with a 4x100 with 15-second rest; the first 25 butterfly. 3x100 with 10-second rest; again, first 25 butterfly. See the trend? Following?”

No questions were asked, and a few guys voiced they were good for me to keep going.

“Good. Then we have a 2x100 with 5-second rest. First 25?”

“Butterfly,” Jungkook replied.

“Thank you, Jeon. Okay, and we’re finishing up with 8x50 freestyle. Fast and easy.”

The boys started to get ready to swim. I waited for the question I knew was coming. Oliver Beck always had to ask me something about the practice list. While I did not mind, I was also not fond of having to repeat myself often. For any of the other members, I would not. However, Oliver has ADHD and gets mixed up easily. He was a phenomenal swimmer, so I did not want to lose him over something he could not control. We made eye contact. I braced myself.

“Coach?”

“Yeah, Beck?”

“What’s the cooldowns?”

“Um,” I looked at the list I made for myself, “4x100. We’re doing free, back, breast; frees by 100s.”

“Got it! Thanks!”

“Never a problem, Beck. Now, get in a position like everyone else.”

Practice ran smoothly. The boys looked great, and I was proud. An ache was always in my chest, looking at the water. However, I got satisfaction watching my students improve. Especially, Jungkook. He was destined for greatness. He reminded me of myself back in my prime. The kid was a bullet in the water with a level of cockiness that he could back up. His ego made him endearing. It was even better when he got scolded and froze like a deer in headlights. I enjoyed him as a student. I liked my entire team. They worked hard and played hard.

Andy called me while the boys were wrapping up their cooldowns. She was a nurse at the hospital Jimin worked at, and they were throwing him a little welcome party at Spotty’s, the local bar. An odd choice to bring a bunch of recovering addicts. Jimin declined the offer, and they moved it to the high school’s gym. Megan was not going to go since Yoongi would not have been comfortable in a bar, but she brought Mai and asked Andy to call me since they had moved it. I agreed. I adored spending time with little Mai. She reminded me of happier times.

After dismissing everyone and letting them know what time practice would be on Monday, I made my way out of the pool building and towards the gym. The parking lot was packed, and I shuttered. I would not be here for very long if I could help it. I hated crowds, and everyone knew who I was not too long ago in this little town. They still look at me like I am crazy. I still felt like I was. Hoseok was out front with Matilda, and we shared a knowing look. We had the worst reputations in town, but those two had significantly worse than I did. Everyone blamed Namjoon’s death on my addiction. Hobi and Tilly were just “the wrong crowd” in high school who became junkies because that is what happens to “people like them.” I was surprised they had shown up.

“The pool is cleared out if you guys want to just get away for a bit,” I called out.

They smiled and nodded before walking that way. We always did this when things happened at school, like clockwork.

Megan and Yoongi were laughing happily with the couple that lived next door to me. They were new in town, and I had not gotten the chance to introduce myself, but they did not attempt to greet me. News travels fast here. I would not be surprised if Dr.Park and the two heard about the “pill-head, drunk without a leg in the Loch.” Yoongi had known more about me from town in five minutes than at his first seven meetings. A wildly exaggerated and embellished version of events, but that was not the point. Secrets do not exist in Loch Keen.

“What’s shakin’, baby?” Jin squeezed my shoulder.

I had not realized that I had dazed off in the middle of the doorway. Words could not describe the relief I felt to know Seokjin had gotten here before anyone could have seen that. Even if it were normal for me to drift off after everything that happened, someone would find a way to bring up my sobriety tonight. I prayed I could go all night without anyone bringing up Namjoon but would not hold my breath. They always did.

“Wrapped up practice when Meg called. She invited me.”

“That was sweet of her.”

“Did you hear they wanted to go to Spotty’s?”

Jin laughed loudly.

“Ah, yes. Bring the alcoholic to the bar. What a great idea.”

“You know this town is full of geniuses.” I joked back, earning an elbow to the ribs and chuckles from the taller man.

“Yeah, geniuses with their heads shoved so far up their ass- Good evening, Mr.Stanley.”

Victor Stanley was not only Jin’s boss but the father of the woman he was attempting to court. To me, Mr.Stanley was the kindest man in town. When I was homeless, he let me sleep on the couch in his basement. If I did not have money for food, he fed me. I was never alone during that time. I tried explaining that to Jin. Stanley was the sweetest guy and would like him more if he was just himself; it fell upon deaf ears. Jin wanted to be a catch. He desperately wanted Victor to think he was good enough for Andre, but he was only successfully putting his foot in his mouth so far. Something Andy thought was charming.

“Jin,” He replied curtly before giving me a giant smile and hug. “It’s good to see you, girl. How’s work?”

“Bittersweet,” I replied honestly, reaching out to fix his collar. It was partly popped, and those things drove me insane.

“It’ll get better. I told you they have that physical therapy place in Esther-”

“I know, Pops.” I interrupted and looked for a way out of this conversation. “Where’s Andy?”

“By the food, you know her.” He laughed, and I forced myself to go along with it.

I desperately wanted to get the fuck away from him. Vincent Stanley was too good of a person. I did not deserve his kindness. I always pay attention when he speaks for its worth, but I hated the topic. I would not subject myself to that. I refused to do that. I could hear Namjoon chastising me already, and I wanted to scream. I did not want more therapy. I could walk and run, and that would have to be enough.

“Oh, let’s go say ‘hi!’” I excitedly gripped Jin’s arm and started to drag him away from Vincent, throwing a quick wave over my shoulder and practically running away.

“I have never met someone less subtly in my life,” Jin complained once I let go of his arm.

“Baby.”

“What’s so wrong with trying it out?”

“Just not ready yet.”

Jin nodded, and I heard him gasp once Andrea came into view. She was beautiful, and I would give her that. Her skin was like milk and covered from head to toe in freckles. Her eyes were hazel, a mostly ocean blue with the prettiest dots of green throughout them, and her lips full. Her nose was slightly bumped, a flaw on anyone else, but Andy embraced it with confidence that it was somehow one of her best features. Her hair was pulled into her usual “Frizzle bun,” and red curls framed her face haphazardly. Jin was smitten with her, and I thought it was apparent that Andrea enjoyed their cat and mouse games, so it was only a matter of time before something finally happened.

“Go ahead,” I sighed and smiled.

“Love you,” He patted my head before going up to Andy.

I could not tell who was happier to see the other. I rolled my eyes and turned back around. It seemed like everyone was happy with someone. I used to be…, but he is gone, and I am back to dancing on my own at all the town functions. My eyes found Yoongi and Megan again, and this time, they were joined by Dr.Kim, and I immediately tried to find my way back into the crowd. As much as I loved Namjoon’s mom, she looked too much like him, and I could not do it tonight. He had already been on my mind far too much lately. Seeing her smile at me would ruin everything. I briefly considered joining Hoseok and Tilly in the pool but decided against it. Matilda would kill me if I interrupted her Hoseok time. Or, as she says, “Stop stealing my mojo, man. I was so close to getting in his pants.” We both know that is not valid, but that does not stop her from saying it every time.

I saw Mai playing with the other kids in town and decided against disrupting her. It had taken forever for her to warm up to anyone, and I did not want to stunt her growth. God, she looked and acted like Yoongi. Poor Meg would be stuck with two antisocial assholes for the rest of her life. I hoped another social butterfly around our age would move to town to be able to make her life a bit easier. Yoongi would never leave the house if he had the choice. Knowing him, he only came after Megan swore to get takeout on the way home. I laughed at my joke before feeling a light tap on my shoulder.

“Oh,” I was surprised to see Jimin there. “Dr.Park.”

“I just noticed you were here. I thought I’d say hi.”

“Sorry I didn’t say it first. Hi.” I scratched the back of my neck and felt myself growing hot.

I had not been this flustered around a man since Namjoon. Like last Monday, Jimin’s hair was slicked back and professionally groomed. He had a pair of metal-framed glasses resting on his nose and a long white coat over his business casual attire. He looked nice. Too lovely for Loch Keen. Too good for you, my mind whispered, and I attempted to ignore it. That was neither here nor there.

“No worries.” Jimin smiled kindly. “I heard you coach the swim team here.”

“Yeah,” I wanted to slap myself for sounding so lame.

“That’s so cool. I figured you coached since talking about it at Monday’s meeting. I don’t know why I thought it would be someplace else.”

He tried to hide it, but I saw his eyes glance at my prosthetic. I was never good at biting my tongue in these situations, but I reminded myself of his place. He was new. He had probably heard all the town gossip and was not expecting me to be allowed to work at the school. Most schools do not hire the crazy bitch with one leg. I had Namjoon’s dad to thank for getting me this job once I sobered up two years ago. Perks of being engaged to the principal’s son.

“Principal Kim was kind enough to give me the job after I got clean. The swim team went without a coach for a year, and Jungkook, he’s the swim captain, was trying to keep it together, but they couldn’t compete. I took over about two years ago, and we’ve won nationals ever since.”

“Very impressive. You a swimmer?” Jimin seemed excited by our conversation.

I was confused by it. I was not sure why he was speaking with me at all. Everyone in town seemed to like him despite his past, and this party was to welcome him. I had so far been the most unwelcoming and blunt person he had encountered. Well, at least until he met Ernst at the bait shop. However, I doubt he ever would since he did not seem like the type to go fishing, and Ernst never left that damn shack. I guessed that he figured we were similar since we were both in recovery. It was nice to make connections in AA, and after spending time with Taehyung, you could see why he thought everyone who goes was like him. He could not be more wrong.

“I used to be,” I finally responded. “I got sober almost three years ago and haven’t found my way back into a pool. Don’t think I ever will.”

I was always honest with my AA guys. It was the only way we should be with one another. It may seem odd or oversharing to others, but it was essential for us to be this way. I was aware of this when I was in my right mind. In one-on-one conversations, I had no problem. Meetings were complex for me. Looking at Tracy and Frank made it hard to talk. They did not understand. However, Jimin did. Maybe not the drugs but the alcohol for sure. Plus, he had to know something already.

“How long ago did it happen?” He asked, voice gentle.

“4- almost 5- years ago now. Bad car accident.”

“Yeah,” Jimin looked at the floor and ran his finger through his hair. It did not move an inch. He must use great products.

“Some nurses at the hospital brought it up. I didn’t listen, though. I’m not a fan of talking behind someone’s back.”

I smiled at him, “As much as I appreciate that, Dr.Park… it’s not necessary. I knew about you the minute Sarah caught wind. Scratch that,” I looked at his face but quickly turned away out of embarrassment, “Andrea told me a new doctor was getting hired when you got the position. Tracy just told me your name once she found out.”

“News travels fast, huh?” Jimin scoffed and took a sip of what looked like water.

“Welcome to the Loch.” I sarcastically raised the pitch of my voice and did jazz hands.

While I felt like an idiot for doing so, it quickly disappeared once he laughed; Jimin had such a nice laugh. Just like last week, I could not help but smile at him. He was so cute. He almost reminded me of…

“Coach! Doc!” I wanted to strangle him.

Leave it to Taehyung Kim to ruin the atmosphere. Well, I thought, at least he stopped my brain from doing that for me. He was wearing a disgusting Hawaiian shirt, a signature of Tae’s, and glasses without lenses. He liked how he looked in them but had 20/20. Usually, I would be happy for Taehyung to rescue me from a stranger, but I was not wanting that right now. I was starting to become comfortable in the conversation. He was far more laidback than I had initially thought, or maybe he did not feel the need to be wired up since we are cut from the same cloth. Either way, I quite liked talking with him.

“Tae!” Jimin smiled even brighter, if that were possible, and raised his cup in greeting.

“You.” I deadpanned, crossing my arms over my chest and shifting my weight from side to side. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Clothes.” He replied, giving me a tight squeeze that I did not return.

“It’s good to see you, man.” Jimin and Taehyung exchanged hugs, and I began to distance myself again.

I did not do well in these situations. Jimin’s attention was focused on Taehyung now; unlike the welder, I was not the party's life. Not anymore. As they started an animated conversation about how Jimin’s work was going, I snuck away into the sea of people to go and find Megan and Yoongi before I left. I wanted to at least see Mai before calling it quits for the night. At times like this, I missed being with Namjoon the most; he always demanded attention and did the talking. Namjoon made me laugh and come out of my shell long enough to have enjoyable conversations with my neighbors. These events are all a painful reminder that it is just me now. He is gone and never coming back. I was alone.

I finally found Yoongi and Mai at the buffet table. The two were laughing and playing together. I never see Yoongi as happy as he is around his daughter and wife. It was sweet, and I was pleased he decided to get better for both of them. Megan was just some girl he slept with a few times before she fell pregnant. He could have just left. However, that is not Yoongi. Now they are married and have the happiest, most energetic little girl; he loves every second of it.

“I wanted to get sober for Mai,” Yoongi had once told me, “I fell in love with Megan during those 90 days, started to get excited about becoming a parent, and realized that I needed to get sober for myself so that I could keep it up. I’ve never been happier than I am right now.”

And it shows. Yoongi had the biggest gummy smile on, a smile that Mai had, and his eyes were smiling with him. His entire aura was soft. His love for her was written all over his face, and how he gently caressed her head, and when he picked her up and smiled wide when she squealed loudly and exclaimed she found unicorn cupcakes, to which Yoongi gave her three. She would bring two home later, I was sure. Megan would never allow her that much sugar this late.

“There you are!” I heard Megan call out from behind me.

The two of us hugged.

“Sorry about that. I saw you guys talking to Dr.Kim and didn’t want to deal with that.”

"I figured that was the case.”

Megan was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Her skin was the prettiest brown, clear, and smooth, and she always smelled of cocoa butter and cinnamon. Her hair was usually in twists or braids, but she had decided to start a natural hair journey two months ago and buzzed it all off. She was very skinny, her legs had a nice-sized gap between them, and she was very tall. While most would not like her figure, she rocked it without shame. She had no one to impress when Yoongi worshipped the ground she walked.

“Hear Jungkook is killing it in the pool.”

“Yeah. kid’s a beast.” I smiled in pride. I had helped mold him. “Better than me, probably.”

“Bet his parents are proud. Taking the boys to state this year?”

“Of course,” I scoffed.

“Mommy!” Mai yelled out; frosting smeared all over her face.

Megan was back in mom mode, and I once again disappeared. However, this time did not feel as bitter. I would never want to part from her if I had a Mai. No one else would matter. Fuck conversations with the judgmental assholes in here. Yoongi shared the same sentiment. We greeted one another, and I told everyone I was leaving. Mai and I had a big hug, and I started to go to my car. I was not comfortable here. Every second I got sucked into my what-ifs, I needed it to stop. Kitchen Nightmares would help. Or maybe the new season of The Great British Baking Show?

I pulled my keys out of my back pocket as I got closer to my car. I always kept a spare on my lanyard. After quickly texting Matilda that I was leaving and locking up the pool, I spotted my car and quickened my steps so I could leave. However, it was impossible. Someone had parked too close to my driver’s side door for me to get in. I hated Loch Keen.

“Who the fuck parked like this?” I groaned into the empty parking lot.

It was Brenda Richards’ car, by the looks of it. That makes sense. Brenda had to be one of the most entitled people I have ever met, and that is an accomplishment in the Loch. I realized I had been wrong about Jimin getting the worst welcome from Ernst. At least the man just did not speak or entertain a conversation. Brenda was just a bitch. Unsurprisingly, she fucked up her parking job this bad and just left it. She always believed she was the center of the universe because she won Miss Loch twenty-five years ago.

“Everything okay?” I heard someone ask.

I turned to find Dr.Park standing not too far away from me.

I shook my head, “Everything’s fine, just Brenda.”

“Mrs.Richards?”

“That’s the one.”

“What’d she do?” He walked over and whistled when she saw the small space between our cars.

“She can’t fucking park, and now I can’t get out.” I sighed and leaned against the back of my car. “I bought a Fit for this exact reason, and she still somehow got this close? Does she park with her eyes closed?”

Jimin laughed, “I can help you back out if you’d like. You can make it.”

“I know that it’s the getting in part.”

“There’s always the passenger side.”

I paused my tantrum and stared at him. I doubt he realized how small my car was. Or how ridiculous I would look. Or the fact that my leg did not work that way anymore. I would have to take off my leg for that. I refused. I forced myself to smile.

“I can’t climb over like that anymore. The space is too small, and I’d have to take it off.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jimin flushed and looked at the ground. “I forgot for a second.”

“It’s okay. You’ve got all your limbs, don’t expect you to know much about being an amputee.”

I popped my truck and sat inside it with my legs dangling off the edge.

“I’ll just wait for her to leave, I guess.”

Jimin stared at me for a few seconds. I could not look at him, but I felt his eyes on me. I wondered what they were focused on, and my insecurities told me it was my prosthetic. I began to swing my good leg and stared at the metal appendage without thinking about it. It was of excellent quality, costly, and brand new. I had gotten a new leg three months ago since my old one was beginning to show signs of wear and tear. I could not wear high heels anymore, something I had never done before, and I scowled at the Sketchers on my feet. I hated sneakers. However, wearing heels with my leg was like eating ice cream without a tongue.

“I’ll back it out for you.” He finally said.

“You sure?” I was weary. Usually, strangers were not so lovely.

“Yeah, it’s no biggie. I was thinking about getting a Honda Fit. I heard the gas mileage was great.”

“Yeah,” I smiled at him and handed him the keys.

He offered me his hand and helped me down. I thanked him.

“I drove a Jeep, so it’s a nice change.”

“I have a Lexus, but she’s old,” Jimin opened the passenger side door. “I’ll be quick.”

I moved from behind the car after slamming the trunk. I saw him crawling across the center console and couldn’t help but smile. He was nice. He reminded me of Namjoon. He was the only person who’d do something like this for someone else. Jimin smacked his forehead against the door, and I burst into laughter. He laughed, muffled by the car, and sank into the driver’s seat with his shoulders shaking. It took him ten seconds to back out and hop out of my little car.

“I like it.” He smiled at me. “You’re good to go, little lady.”

“Thanks, Dr.Park,” I gave him a small wave goodbye and got inside my car.

We awkwardly waved at each other again as I drove off. He was cute, not as untouchable as I once thought, but his looks made him hard to be around. Especially when he smiled. I did not like to look at him when he smiled… at least not if he could see me. He was a gentleman, seemingly perfect, but I knew better than to assume that. For him to come to see us meant he had his skeletons, which soothed me. Jimin was a treasure to the community already; I had picked up on that; however, we had more in common than he had with most of the town. Drifters. His problems just did not bleed into his professional life, it seems. My problems were my professional life.

Realizing that I was still holding my keys, I tossed them into the cupholder only to discover something was in it. I refused to take my eyes off the road until I made it back home. Once you lose everything in a crash, you learn to become a diligent, defensive driver. I never listen to the radio anymore. The only distraction I ever allowed myself was the AC. I turned on my blinkers and got on my street. A nice thing about the Loch is that everything was close. I only needed a car when I drove to see my parents or doctor. Both were in Esther.

I pulled into my driveway and narrowly avoided a cat that refused to move. Honking, my horn made its runoff. I killed my engine and finally allowed myself to look at my cup holder. My keys had fallen out on the drive over, and I would have to get them from the passenger side floor before going inside. In their place was a phone, a much nicer one than mine, and I almost screamed in frustration. Jimin must have accidentally put it in there and forgot about it. I felt guilty. After being so nice to me, I drove off with his phone.

I called Taehyung and explained what had happened. Ten minutes later, he knocked on my door, but Jimin was not with him. I found myself disappointed, which was ridiculous. Of course, he would not come when Tae could get it, and certainly not when the whole town threw him a party. He did not seem like the type to let others down that way. Or maybe I was projecting Namjoon on him yet again? Taehyung and I bid one another good night, and he returned to bring Jimin’s phone back to him. I took a cold shower and went to bed.

Like clockwork.

It was not until the following Monday that I saw Jimin again. He was in scrubs today, the baby blue looked so beautiful against his skin, but I did not approach him. I stayed in my car until he was inside the building. He made me nervous, and I was not too fond of that. It felt wrong. So wrong. I did not want to think he was pretty, but I could not help myself. He walked around with this confidence and had an almost ethereal quality. He was dangerous.

Matilda bombarded me the moment I stepped inside, helping me get another break from the doctor, and though I pretended that I was annoyed with her, I was silently singing her praises. She looked frightened, and if her fast pace was anything to go by, Matilda was ready to burst at the seams with whatever was bothering her. She had not told me what she wanted; she grabbed me up and said we needed to talk, which was not ordinary. Tilly often became overwhelmed by even the most mundane things. Since Hoseok was already here, I assumed she did not want him to overhear anything. She finally stopped once we were safely hidden away in the restroom.

“You know I can’t walk that quickly, Tilly,” I scolded, my thigh aching from her fast pace.

“I’m sorry,” She apologized but continued pacing around. “Hobi is taking Opal out this Saturday.”

“What?”

It made sense now. Matilda had been in love with Hoseok for years, and they had hooked up a few times that I knew of, but nothing ever came of it. This would be heartbreaking news for her. If Hoseok had been interested, he had only ever hooked up with others and always went back to her after. To hear him taking a girl out was shocking even to me. He had never been the one to be tied down.

“He told Jin, who told me. She had come into the body shop Thursday, and they hit it off. They’re getting dinner at the burger place on Maple.”

“Wait, wait, wait, Hoseok is going out with Opal? Like… Opal Richards? The girl who got him arrested?”

“Yes.”

“I thought she moved out for good?”

“Andy told me that she just got her masters but had trouble finding work. She will be teaching calculus at the high school next year and working at Spotty’s until then.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I laughed in disbelief.

Sure, Opal was pretty. I would give her that. The blonde hair and blue eyes were a turn-on for most. However, in attitude and personality (from what I remember), she had nothing on Matilda. Opal was a holier-than-thou bitch who got Hoseok expelled and arrested after ratting him out for smoking weed behind school. Tilly, on the other hand, was funny and unapologetic in every way. Her jokes always landed with Hoseok, and she understood him in ways no one else could. They both hit their rock bottom together. Then again, the two of them were terrible for one another. Their entire relationship was one violent, drug induced rage fueled by lust and trauma bonding. I hated to admit it but I was happy Hoseok was moving on.

“I wish I was,” She sighed.

“Fuck that guy,” I said and hugged her.

Matilda broke down then. Her body shook with the force of her sobs. I never wanted to punch him in the face more than at that moment. I always knew their thing would never end well. I always held my tongue out of loyalty to them, but I knew this day would come. While I wanted to be angry with Hoseok, I could not. I understood his position. The two of them were much better friends than lovers. Matilda relied too much on him. Hoseok could not be with her because it constantly reminded him of his mistakes. Tilly could not let him go because of all their memories. A rock and a hard place.

“Why doesn’t he like me?” She cried out, holding onto me for dear life.

“Who cares if he doesn’t like you? I like you.”

We stayed in that bathroom for a while. The meeting was almost over when we finally joined everyone in the main room. I sat by Yoongi and me today instead of her usual seat beside the man of the hour. No one questioned us. I assumed it was because they could see how distraught she was and how she clung to me for support. For the remaining 15 minutes, Matilda held my hand as if it were a lifeline, and I never loosened my grip. She needed me to be there for her. I knew she would be dry-eyed and stable enough to head home after this was over. She would likely call me tomorrow and apologize though she does not have to.

“See you all next week,” Frank finished and cast me a look.

“She okay?” He mouths. I nodded in response. This satisfied him enough to let it go. Matilda stretched and quickly left. She wanted to be alone. I squeezed her hand once and let her go. I would have feared a relapse a year ago, but she was more substantial than that. The two had not hooked up in a year and a half now, and her progress without him dragging her down was noticeable, not to her. She always thought she was better with him. Everyone, including Hoseok, did not agree.

“Is Tilly okay?” Speak of the Devil.

“Yeah, just overwhelmed right now.” I brushed him off quickly, not wanting to deal with him right now.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” Hoseok held my shoulder. “You’ve always been such a good friend to her, thank you.”

“I do it for her. Not you. Don’t thank me.”

I was not happy with Hoseok and felt bad for not saying why. Matilda begged for me to keep things calm for now. She was not ready to speak with him about something, and it was not my place to speak on her behalf. They would sort it out amongst themselves later. I was sure that Hoseok would not fall in love with Opal overnight. Plus it was rude to assume she did not grow up. She had just come home after getting her master's and could be a completely different person now. I hardly knew her then, and I do not know her now. I would not ruin my friend’s date because of teenage angst. That was beneath me.

I wanted to go back and apologize.

“Y/N!” I heard someone call out to me from across the parking lot.

Jimin was waving his arms in the air to catch my attention. He smiled once we made eye contact and gestured for me to come over. I felt my stomach drop. I enjoyed his company, but I wanted to stay away from him. He made me feel things I had not felt in a long time, and I wanted them to stop. Still, out of not being rude, I obliged. He seemed excited that I decided to stop for him.

Hoseok was forgotten about.

“Hey! I just wanted to say thanks. I always misplace things.” He looked embarrassed.

How cute.

“It’s okay; I felt bad for diving off with your stuff.” I kept myself neutral.

“How does dinner with me sound?” He yelled out, briefly locking eyes with me before turning his gaze to the car next to us.

I could not show just how excited he made me. That would be bad- very bad. Once it was known that I found him attractive, all attempts as subtly would fail. I was just that kind of person. However, I also had the self-control to stop this from becoming something. I was in no position for a relationship. I did not think that I ever would be. Jimin deserved much better than a woman who may or may not be around emotionally. No one would understand us together. He belonged with a Beyonce-Meagan Good-type. I belonged to a man on the ground with a memorial on Highway 32.

I smiled softly, “No.”

His entire face fell, and it broke my heart. As much as I wanted to say yes, I could not. It would be wrong. Everything about this felt wrong. He liked me, which felt nice, but I did not know his feelings. He was unbelievably handsome, but we did not know one another. How could I say yes when Namjoon was mine forever? Well, he was supposed to be. I promised him that when I put that ring on. Subconsciously I rubbed the band. I had never taken it off. That is why I said no.

“Oh,” He let out a forced laugh. “Yeah, that’s fine. Worth a shot, right?”

“I can’t say yes; it wouldn’t be fair to either of us,” I explained, noticing him trying to brush it off like it was not a big deal. He was hurt; that was obvious. I felt terrible once more.

“Why do you say that?”

“You and I don’t know one another. I’m sure you know more about me than I know about you, this town loves to jump on my case whenever given a chance, and that would make you look terrible.” I took a deep breath and continued. “And, if I’m being completely transparent, I don’t know if I’m ready for a date. I’ve been out of the game for eight years now, haven’t been with anyone else except my former finance, and the idea of moving on hasn’t crossed my mind. I feel guilty.”

“What if it’s just two friends grabbing a bite?”

I snapped my head up and found him looking at me fondly. I was surprised that he would clarify something like that just to be able to take me out. Had I read into this too much?

“So, you weren’t asking me out?”

“Oh, no, I was,” He smiled reassuringly at me, “But you’re right- we don’t know each other. And if you’re not ready to date, I get that. I still enjoy your company and would like to buy you dinner. If you’d let me anyway.”

“No ulterior motives?”

“Not at all,” He smiles softly. “I’m okay with being friends. I do genuinely want to get to know you.”

“Okay then,” I rubbed my hands on my pants and looked at my car on the opposite side of the lot. “Follow me. We can grab steak and eggs at Bronco’s.”

The blinding smile he gave me left me dizzy. Park Jimin was a dazzler. One side of me wished I had said no to avoid this. However, the more selfish side was excited to have him to herself for a while.

Jimin was a gentleman by anyone’s standards. He held the door open for me, always allowed me to speak first, and never tried to over talk me. We had been mostly quiet except when ordering our food. I felt awkward and out of place. While Bronco’s had great food, I knew everyone who frequented the area would find it odd that I was out and about. I never ate out anymore, and seeing me outside work with anyone besides Yoongi, Megan, or Matilda would cause gossip. Having the new doctor in town would make things worse. I could already imagine what I would hear at work tomorrow.

I had learned in the short time that we had been inside that Jimin loved sweet tea; the sweeter, the better, and he always added Splenda to it. His mother did the same thing. He only ate his steak mid-rare and hated if his egg yolks were not runny. Over-easy or sunny side only. I thought it was interesting. In my eyes, this was the first time he had wholly derailed from Namjoon. Joon loved scrambled eggs and a mid-well steak. He despised tea and ordered orange juice every time we came here. I scolded myself for thinking about him yet again.

“People are staring at us,” Jimin whispered, sinking a little lower in his seat while taking a sip of his tea.

I briefly looked past him and made eye contact with Fred Coops, who immediately looked away. I scoffed and shook my head in disappointment. Fred was the sheriff in town and the first person to find Namjoon and me that night. He locked me up three times afterward. He had always been up there with Brenda of my most prominent critics.

“You’re eating with the junkie, Dr.Park. It’s to be expected.” I took a large sip of my coffee. “Just ignore Coops. He’s a jackass.”

“Isn’t he a cop?” Jimin asked, thanking Taylor (our waitress), who stopped by to give him a refill.

“Yeah. He’s the first person ever to hit me besides Ozzie- he’s a guy I went to high school with. He accidentally hit me while we were playing Just Dance.” I laughed to myself at the memory. “Anyway, I was still in my wheelchair, and Hoseok had relapsed not too long after my drinking got out of hand. We were at Spotty’s and got super drunk, and I’m a mean drunk. Well, I got into it with Brenda’s youngest boy, Eric. Coops showed up, and I don’t remember what happened other than Hoseok hit him, he was pushing me in my chair to help me get in the back of his cruiser, and then he just tossed me out, and I landed face-first in the concrete. They scrapped, and Coops accidentally kicked me in the face. I had a black eye but didn’t catch a charge. No one liked Sherriff Coops after that.”

“What the fuck?” Jimin looked shocked, and I did not blame him; it was a strange situation. “He still has a badge after that?”

“Yeah, small town. They don’t like him, but they don’t like me more.”

“I couldn’t imagine living someplace where everyone knows about your private business.”

“Start imagining it. There’s no such thing as secrets in Loch Keen.”

A silence lapsed. It was more comfortable than the last round we had. I could tell he wanted to say something, or at the very least, had something weighing on his mind. He made a similar face to Jungkook, eyebrows scrunched up and a lower lip pout. It was cute. It affected me more than Jeon. Jungkook made me roll my eyes, but Jimin made me want to smooth his forehead wrinkles over with my fingers. Taylor brought our food out and left us alone just as quickly. I always liked her. She knew how to mind her business.

“Can I ask you something?” Jimin said, popping his yolk.

“Sure,” I replied, mouth full.

“How did your addiction start?”

I put my fork down and thought for a second.

“I got into a car accident on Highway 32 at three, coming back from a party. I was in college at Edith University, and Namjoon came to pick me up. I was so wasted and couldn’t drive myself anywhere. I was going to stay the weekend at his. We got hit by an 18-wheeler. The driver fell asleep at the wheel and ran a red light. Joon died on impact, and I was in critical condition for days.

“My leg was crushed beyond repair. The doctor said it was pinned between the light pole we wrapped around and the car. I was lucky I survived, let alone kept my knee. I lost my best friend that night, my leg, my swimming career was over, my college days were done, and my parents held resentment against me for the accident. They loved Namjoon more than they loved me. I was alone most of my time at the hospital except when Tilly or Hobi came by. Jin was going to meetings in Esther, and we didn’t know each other. The others hadn’t been in town, and Leon had only been dead for a year at that point.”

“No one noticed?” Jimin asked, voice gentle. He was being careful. He felt bad. Or maybe he understood? “No one noticed me either, but I was also in college at the time.”

“Everyone was more concerned with Namjoon than me, which is fine, but it left me with quiet time. Before realizing it, I drank every day at home and took more pills than prescribed. I can count how many times I was checked up on aside from my medical team. I didn’t exist for anyone anymore. Namjoon was dead, and we were all in mourning. Hoseok went on a huge bender after that with Matilda, my parents moved to Edith to get away from me, and everyone else never asked. No one cared. It wasn’t a problem until it became their problem. Victor Stanley was really my only safe space.”

Another silence. I took deep breaths to calm myself down. It hurt to talk about my parents. I hated thinking about that time in my life. My addiction ruined me, and I have no idea if I will ever recover from it. I still had nightmares and ached for a drink to numb the feelings. I still yearned for the sense of nothing that took over once I popped enough pain pills that I felt like I was floating. Nothing felt. Nothing hurt. Most days, I wish I had died in that car instead of Namjoon. He was always loved and cherished; he had more potential and would have been loved during his loss. I would have been the better sacrifice. However, that does not matter anymore. He is dead, and I am here- though it never feels like I am living. I exist at best. He would have lived. He would have been amazing.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin said, “You didn’t deserve that.”

“What you deserve and what you get are usually very different.”

We finished our meal in silence. Jimin always opened his mouth to say something, but nothing ever came. I kept trying to focus on my food to keep the thoughts away. I wanted a drink but needed to settle for coffee. We said we paid for our meal and bid one another goodnight.

“And Y/N?” Jimin called out; he had parked directly behind my car on the other side of the lot.

“Yeah?”

“I wrote my number down on the receipt. If you feel… weird tonight, just give me a call. It got heavy. Sorry about that.”

I smiled at Jimin. Of course, he would figure that out. I was never a great liar, and my poker face was as convincing as a mascara commercial. I felt ashamed for thinking that he would not understand my pain. We were both addicts. Comparing trauma is never the right call. It still led us to the same AA group. It still led us to addiction. We are family now, and I needed to remember that. We stick together. We always stick together.

“Don’t be. I’d rather you hear it from me anyway. Whenever you’re ready, you’re more than welcome to do the same with me.”

And then he was smiling again, and my heart did backflips.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jimin.”

I pulled into the parking lot, struggling to squeeze into my usual spot since Jin parked his monster truck beside mine. Tilly usually parked on the other side of me. This led me to squeeze through the small opening and bang my knee on my car door. I noticed that Jimin’s car was nowhere to be seen. It would be the only white car in the lot and very noticeable. I shrugged this off as he ran late and went inside. Though disappointed, I knew my nerves would settle once I saw him. I was even looking forward to it.

It was strangely quiet when I went inside, and everyone was sitting strangely. I first noticed that Hoseok was sitting alone, and Tilly was nowhere near him. Instead, she was next to Yoongi on my side of the room. Taehyung and I made eye contact from across the room. He shook his head at me. He had no idea what was going on either. I had a feeling I knew the problem. I continued walking inside like nothing was wrong and sat in my seat.

Yoongi and I made eye contact when I sat down; he looked tense. I was sure everyone was the same way. Hoseok and Tilly spats often drifted to us, and being thrown into their battles was a complete shit show. I always ended up being neck-deep in their drama. It came with the childhood best friend title.

I hated to admit it, but I leaned more toward Tilly’s side for this one. Hoseok had led her on for years, never actually wanted to commit to her, and treated her terribly for a long time. Of course, Tilly stuck around for all of this and had her downfalls in their relationship, but I had always thought Hoseok played the most significant role in their downfall.

Friend or not, I knew bullshit when I saw it. The two had sex in the pool house for Jimin’s welcome party. Matilda finally admitted that to me a few nights ago, which only worsened his date with Opal.

“Hope you’re all having a good night,” Sarah sat at the front and smiled.

“Looks like we’re missing someone,” Frank said, sitting beside her.

Dr.Park

I looked around and confirmed my suspicion. Jimin had not shown up. My heart sank as I was looking forward to seeing him tonight. My brain was on overdrive, trying to figure out what was happening with him. Meetings were the most crucial part of staying accountable. Missing a meeting was never good, and I worried about my friend.

“Must be busy at the hospital this evening,” Frank said, then launched into the meeting like usual.

Taehyung had gotten a dog last week. He and Seokjin had driven to the shelter in Yaw, a small town outside of Esther, and he found the perfect Pomeranian puppy. He called him Yeontan and spoiled him rotten. Jin got a new cat while they were out since he felt lonely at home. He went for coffee with Andrea and thinks he might ask her soon.

“Hi, my name’s Hoseok, and I’m an addict.”

“Hi, Hoseok.” We all chimed.

Except for Tilly, I noted.

“I had a date Saturday. It went well,” Hoseok briefly looked in my direction. “This is the first time I’ve tried seeing anyone since getting sober, so it’s been hard to keep up with everything.”

“How did it make you feel?” Frank asked, a smile on his face.

I had not realized I was smiling until then. I quickly adjusted my expression and sank lower into my chair.

“It felt… great,” He laughed and looked down in embarrassment. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting much, but she surprised me. We have much more in common than I thought, and she’s very different from what I remembered.”

“That’s nice, Hobi.” Sarah chimed in. “Anything else?”

“Nope,” He smiled. “Passing the mic to Yoongi.”

“Hi, my name’s Yoongi. I’m an addict.”

“Hi, Yoongi.”  We replied.

The meeting went on. Mai could not make her recital after getting the flu the day before, which turned into pneumonia. Of course, Megan had already told me all of this, but I still listened to Yoongi. He was more honest with his feelings here than anywhere else. He often hid how he felt to make Megan feel more comfortable leaning on him for support.

“It’s been scary,” He said, “But she’s a fighter.”

Mai Min was one of the toughest little boogers I had ever met.

“Let us know if we can help with anything,” Frank said, and Sarah nodded in agreement.

“Y/N,” Yoongi said.

I sighed.

“Hi, my name’s Y/N. I’m an addict.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Well,” I started, “I’ve been doing better than usual.”

“Anything new?” Sarah asked.

My suspicions grew. It was an odd question to ask, first and foremost. I rarely did anything out of the ordinary, and my schedule never changed. Alarm bells began going off in my head. The only thing I could think of was getting dinner with Dr.Park last week and I did not categorize it as “something new.” I just got dinner with a friend. However, with the way this town likes to talk, I could only imagine what people were saying, especially if Coops was the one spreading it around.

“Did you hear something?” I deadpanned, raising my arms to stretch.

“Brenda heard from Sherriff Coop’s wife that you were out with Dr.Park,” Sarah admitted, face flushing.

“We got dinner after the meeting last week. And?”

“Everyone is saying you looked very close.” Jin chimed in, a large smirk across his face.

I hated that stupid cop.

“Everyone also said that you had herpes when you had that cold sore.”

Yoongi choked back a laugh. Taehyung shamelessly laughed. Jin laughed and disbelief and flipped me off.

“Enough,” Sarah said, laughing herself. “I was just trying to say I’m happy to see you branching out again. It’s been a while since you’ve tried to make friends.”

“I guess.”

With him fresh in my mind, I began to worry again. Why was he not here? Was he safe? If he were missing or hurt, we would have already found out about that. My leg began shaking with the new wave of anxiety. I hardly paid attention to Tilly. She barely spoke, so I felt less bad about it, but I could tell she was upset. My mind was occupied with Jimin, but I made a mental note to check on her before she left.

He seemed fine whenever we ate. He was pleasant and showed no signs of relapse or possible relapse in the works. However, I realized I did not even know Jimin’s story. He had spoken briefly about his addiction, starting in college and ending before attending medical school, but the details were not there. He was private. My worries increased. No one would know how to help him if he was in a bad place. I still had the receipt with his number in my cupholder. Would that be overkill?

Suddenly Matilda was standing up and walking away. The meeting was not over. The clock on the wall showed we had at least fifteen minutes left. I had been so wrapped up in my head that I did not know what had set her off. I called out to her, but she responded by walking faster. Then she slammed the door shut.

No one said anything, and Frank dismissed the meeting not too long after. Yoongi and I made eye contact and knew he was just as clueless as I was. No one looked like they had any idea what had happened. Not even Hoseok, the guy who always knew everything, Tilly.

“She’s so melodramatic,” Taehyung complained, pouting. 

“She’s hurt right now,” I argued, taking up for my friend.

She was in pain and needed time to heal. This would not be easy. It had always been Matilda and Hoseok. Double-trouble. Namjoon and I were the sidekicks, and Ozzie was the one who brought us all together. I hoped she would be alright but was unsure. This was unchartered territory for me. I should call her…

“Matilda and Hoseok have practically been in a long-term relationship for 12 years,” Yoongi chimed. “This would hurt her. I’m just happy he’s breaking off the toxicity.”

“They’re much better friends.” I agreed, chewing my bottom lip.

I said my goodbyes and started for my car. As I walked, I searched for Tilly’s number on my phone, her car was long gone, and my concern grew. Not only was Dr.Park AWOL, but my best friend was also in the middle of a spiral. My anxiety was palpable, and my hands trembled as I attempted to call Matilda. I could only hope that she would answer, but I was not confident. I tried six more times before giving up and texting Andrea.

Y/N: Bad meeting. Tilly’s torn up about Hobi and won’t take my calls

I sat inside my car and waited for a reply. It came five minutes later.

Andy: I’ll stop by her place after work

Andy: You and Doc, huh?

I groaned. I did not want my new friendship to get blown out of proportion by everyone else. Yes, Jimin had expressed an interest in me, but I was firm in my decision to keep him in the friendzone. The boyfriend train has not and will not take off.

Then I remembered how worried I had been about him and decided that was far more important than saving face.

Y/N: Thanks

Y/N: Just friends, babe

Andy: More for me

I was tempted to ask about Jimin but refrained. That would only make the talk worse. I wondered what Jimin thought about all of this. I was lucky to only deal with those I chose to speak with, and most of the Loch never bothered with me anymore. However, Jimin was a new favorite despite his past. According to Taehyung, a man like that could get away with murder. I could not help but agree. Dr.Park’s smile alone could get him anything he could ever want.

Did he not come because of me?

I fished in my cupholder for the receipt. I always had wrappers shoved in the holes, so it took me a minute, but I eventually found it. His handwriting reminded me of chicken scratch and was always in italics. Another difference was that Namjoon wrote in the most beautiful script I had ever seen. He even enjoyed calligraphy in his spare time. I punched in the number and pressed call before I could second guess the decision.

I was just checking in on an AA friend. That is all.

“Hello?” Jimin answered, sounding more tired and annoyed than usual.

“Hey, Dr.Park,” My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. “It’s Y/N… from AA.”

“Hey!” He was more alert than before and maybe even excited.

“Just noticed you didn’t come tonight, checking in.” I gave him the same lame excuse I gave myself.

I just wanted to talk to him, but I would never admit it.

“Just got stuck at the hospital. I’m getting some new patients, so it’s been hard to get anything done when I’m off besides sleeping.”

I hummed in response. I felt silly for calling him now. Of course, he would not be able to make every meeting. It is why no one seemed fazed that he was not in tonight. I was just the last one to catch on. Or maybe I was looking forward to seeing him?

No, not that.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” I apologized, resting my head on my steering wheel in embarrassment.

“You never bother me,” He assured me before laughing. “I’m glad you called. I’m about to go home for the night and was not motivated to shower.”

“Glad I could help you bathe,” I joked, a smile on my face.

“Oh, no. Still no shower, but I do feel up for the drive home.”

I chuckled.

“Glad to be of service,” I glanced at the clock and knew I had to let him go.

I was tired myself.

“I’ll let you go,” I said.

“Be safe.”

“You, too.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Jimin.”

I felt better about the ride home, too.

It had been three weeks since Jimin had come to a meeting now, something we all understood him becoming busy at the hospital, and I was sure that he would come back as soon as possible. Andrea told Jin that Dr.Park was swamped with new patients since Dr.Greyson’s last day was three days after we got dinner together. From what I gathered, Dr.Greyson lived in Ester and was finally retiring to go traveling with his wife. I felt terrible for Jimin. He had not had a night off in weeks and was expected to fill the shoes of one of the most beloved doctors in the area.

I had a lot on my mind during the night. I always had too much to think about on Saturdays as nothing could distract me from my thoughts. This has led me to my current situation- boredom was deadly. However, unlike most would assume on these nights, I came to the pool instead of crying or drinking. It was a calming feeling to be in the pool hall at night. It was quiet and comforting, my phone playing music softly from a chair not too far from the pool, and I could just take my leg off and enjoy the feeling of the water on my stub.

The water was refreshing, and I had an urge to jump inside—a horrible idea. I knew I would sink if I went in, and no one would find me until Monday if I drowned. I considered the concept of physical therapy in Ester like Victor suggested but shuttered at the thought. I was afraid of failing at this. It was cowardly; as someone who never backed down from a challenge, it sickened me to admit it, but it was the truth. The thought of failing at the only thing I still had hope for one day broke my heart. It was not right and counterproductive, but it was my reasoning.

It looks like a limb torn off

Or altogether just taken apart.

We’re reeling through an endless fall.

We are the ever-living ghost of what once was.

I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. Namjoon loved this song. Band of Horses was one of his favorite bands. I remembered road trips with Cease to Begin as the soundtrack, and on our first anniversary, he serenaded me with Infinite Arms. I could still hear the way his chest rumbled as he laughed at himself, his voice cracking, and the dimples on his cheeks never fading. I had never seen him more nervous. Oh, to be 18 again. I found myself laughing at nothing. Then, I was crying, and it would not stop.

Would it ever go away? This hole in my chest? This feeling of something always missing? I hoped for the day that I would suddenly realize that I had not thought about him in a while. I wanted to scream. I wanted to drink. I tried to swim. I took a sharp breath in and eyed the pool.

No one would find me until Monday…

Ring, Ring. Ring, Ring.

My ringtone pierced through the night, and I jumped, startled. It must be important if someone is calling me at this time. I slowly made my way towards the chair. I lift my butt before setting my legs back down. It was easier this way than to attempt to stand without any support around. And I hated hopping even if I was very good at it.

“Hello?” I answered, not checking the caller ID.

“Oh my- Y/N?” Megan frantically called out. “Where the fuck are you?”

“The pool?”

“Alone? Are you crazy?” She screamed at me, and then I heard her call out to someone, “The pool!”

“Meg, what’s going on?”

“Mai is in the ER. We came to pick you up, and you weren't home, and we were worried.”

My stomach dropped.

“What happened?”

“She’s coughing up blood again. We think she’s got another round of pneumonia.” Someone called out in the background, and I assumed it was Yoongi, “Yoon is on his way to get you. We’re already at the hospital.”

“Where’s your leg?” Yoongi asked when he saw me hopping into his car.

“It hurt too much to try and put it on,” I threw it into the backseat and then got into the passenger side.

“Your chair is still at our place,” Yoongi said before driving off.

Mai had been diagnosed with lupus last year after getting multiple lung infections. Megan had noticed her joints swelling, and Yoongi had mentioned it at a follow-up appointment. We were all scared for the 7-year-old. Her doctor had always said the likelihood of a transplant was not high at this time, but it was not off the table. Hearing her back in the hospital again sent us into a frenzy. When Yoongi and I arrived at the hospital, the entire group was already waiting. Matilda was comforting Megan with Jin. Hoseok paced. Sarah and Frank were talking with a very troubled Taehyung. Megan cried out when she saw us. Yoongi held her closely, and I rolled myself towards everyone else.

“Hey,” I whispered, taking hold of Sarah’s hand before looking at Taehyung.

It was no secret that he loved Mai. Taehyung could not have children of his own and latched onto the little girl as soon as they met. She loved her uncle Tae, and he would babysit her when Yoongi and Megan needed a date night. He was in a lot of pain. That much was extremely obvious. These flare-ups gave all of us an intense amount of anxiety.

“Why are you in a chair?” Taehyung wondered aloud, leaning his head into my shoulder.

“I wasn’t wearing my leg when Yoongi picked me up. It hurt to put it back on, too.” I ran my fingers through his hair. “She’s okay, Tae.”

“I know.”

Frank rubbed my arm comfortingly. Out of everyone, Frank and I had a deeper understanding of our roles. We were often left to comfort those around us, even when hurting. We have grown to lean on one another in times like this. Yoongi and I did the same thing, but he needed to be there for his wife. He and I would have a moment together soon. Right now, just squeezing Frank’s hand in thanks was enough. I needed to be vital to my friends right now. I needed to be there for Mai.

“What’s going on, baby?” Yoongi asked.

“Um,” Megan sniffled, “Well, right now, they said that her antibody levels were low. And, um, they’re bringing her to the ICU to get some treatment. They’re giving her a bone marrow biopsy. I was going to go, but I wanted to wait for you.”

“That’s okay, baby.”

Megan and Yoongi had a sweet love though they were opposite in every way. Megan was outgoing and bubbly, her smile contagious, and her free spirit always attracted people to her. That is what made Yoongi fall in love. However, while most would never understand how someone as unique as her could fall in love with Yoongi, I knew better. These moments proved that. Yoongi was able to be vulnerable with her while still providing support. His loyalty was unwavering, and his commitment to the things he loved the most was his most attractive feature. Megan loved Yoongi because Yoongi loved her like she deserved to be loved. Yoongi and I looked at each other and nodded at the unspoken question.

Staying?

Yes.

Yoongi and Megan went to the ICU to be with Mai, while the rest of us stayed in the waiting room to hear the news. Frank and Sarah were the first to go home after an hour and a half. Frank was due to work in the morning; otherwise, they would have stayed. Tilly left to bring Hoseok home not too long since he fell asleep in his chair. Jin, Taehyung, and I were the only three left for a long while. I could not tell how long we had been sitting there in silence, just waiting for something. Jin went about twenty minutes ago to shower and get a change of clothes. Then it was just Taehyung and me.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen to her?” Taehyung suddenly asked, eyes trained on the floor as they had been for hours.

“Well,” I started, “The infection could lead to sepsis. That’s probably the worst thing that could happen.”

“Do you know how fatal that is?”

“Not off the top of my head, no.”

“Around 48%.” A soft voice called out from beside me. “But she should be fine.”

Jimin looked tired. His usually perfectly styled hair is unkempt and flyways everywhere. The bags under his eyes were deep and purple, and his smile did not reach his eyes. Dr.Park looked beat. Yet, he was still beautiful. Beautiful enough to get my blood racing for the first time in weeks.

“Hey,” He said to me.

“Hey,” I parroted, voice hardly there.

“Hey, Tae.”

“Hi, Jimin.”

The men hugged and spoke quietly to one another. I could not understand what they were saying, but I did not try too hard. I wanted to give them privacy. I was sure that Jimin had heard about Mai, and he was good friends with Taehyung despite not being around for long. Taehyung just had that effect on people. And as I had been finding out, so did Jimin. I tried to ignore the men and play Solitaire on my phone.

“I’m going to smoke,” Taehyung mumbled, “Be back.”

He needed some time to regroup.

“Okay, be safe,” I smiled at him and ran my finger along the back of his hand.

Physical touch was Tae’s thing.

Jimin took Taehyung’s seat after he was out of earshot. It felt surreal to have him around me like this. It had just been a few weeks but felt like so much more. That night opened my eyes a lot, and wanting Jimin in my life was one. We were family, and he enjoyed me. He… liked me. Even if I was not ready for that, I still wanted to be sure I held him close. Jimin sighed loudly and leaned back in the chair.

“How’d you know about the sepsis?” Jimin asked lightheartedly.

“Got warned about it all the time,” I replied, voice devoid of any emotion.

This seemed to throw him for a loop, and I felt terrible. He had not done anything wrong, and I was rude to him. He was trying to distract me.

“As soon as I finally get the night off, Mai gets brought in.” He sounded upset.

I listened but did not interrupt.

“It killed me to know I couldn’t help even if I wanted to. My supervisor isn’t letting me work anymore. I’ve just been inside with Yoongi and Megan, trying to be comforting and explain things to them in more detail after doctors come in and out.”

A beat of silence.

“I’m happy to see you.”

I finally looked at Jimin. He was smiling that lazy smile and had his hand underneath his chin. Elbows rest on his knees. I hesitantly reached out and placed my hand on his knee for support.

“I’m glad to see you, too.”

He dazzled me then. I swear, I would never tire of seeing him smile like that. He looked like an angel, and a wave of unadulterated possessiveness overtook me. I did not want anyone else to have him like this. I did not want him to smile at anyone else that way. Then I remembered who we were and laughed at my stupidity. I had no right to feel that way. I withdrew my hand.

“Go home, Dr.Park. You’ve been non-stop. Rest.”

“Don’t ‘Dr.Park’ me, Y/N,” He giggled.

“Just did,” I tried to hide my growing grin. “I’m serious; you’re exhausted. You need to rest.”

Jimin sighed, “Are you okay?”

I shook my head but still answered yes. I knew Jimin would notice the conflicting actions but did not care. Mai was hurting, and I could not go and see her. After doing this for a long time, we all knew that Yoongi and Megan would be the only two who could visit to limit the spread of germs. Yoongi would leave before Megan would, even if he did not want to. Work was his escapism. Megan could not function at work if she knew her daughter was sick. Suppose Victor would even let her come in. She was the manager at the tiny, primarily unused hotel on the loch. The view was beautiful, but Loch Keen was not a high tourist destination. Victor owned it, and it paid the bills as a “vacation home” for the town.

“Me either.” He finally replied.

“What’s going on right now?”

“She will be sick for a few days, and her biopsy was sent to labs an hour or two ago. It’s a waiting game at this point.” Jimin ran his fingers through my hair and scratched the crown of my head lightly. “You should get some rest, too, Hot Wheels.”

I froze at the contact. My heartbeat radically and was so loud that I feared everyone in the waiting room could hear it. A gentle hand on the knee was one thing. That was a passive show of affection to ground me. It was for the sake of comfort. However, head scratches and a gentle caress on my head were entirely different. And while I knew it was wrong, I did not protest or move away from his touch. I welcomed it. I allowed myself to enjoy it. I hummed in appreciation.

“Careful Jimin, I might ‘accidentally’ roll over your toes,” I bit back, eyes closed, and body relaxed.

He gently laughed in response.

“Please have dinner with me again,” His hands moved to the nape of my neck, and I practically purred with satisfaction.

“When?” I breathed out.

“Friday night. We can drive to Esther.”

I smiled.

“I’m usually resting my leg then. I might be in my ‘Hot Wheels.’” I joked.

“I’d be honored to escort you everywhere we go,” He joked back.

I thought, “No, I’ll put it on my leg.”

“Any reason why?”

“I don’t want to embarrass you by being in this.”

“It wouldn’t embarrass me. Whatever you decide,” He ran a finger over my ear lobe, “It wouldn’t change anything.”

Tonight was another sleepless Saturday, and my mind filled with Namjoon, Mai, and Matilda. I was restless and unable to sit still, so I came here. The water was calm and felt nice against my skin. All the tension in my body seemed t melt away as soon as I put my feet in the water. I wanted to go in but was afraid of hurting myself. It still shocked me how much I feared the water when it was once my second home.

Music played softly in the background, and I sighed. Mai was okay, she would make a full recovery, but bed rest was a must. Yoongi and Megan were thinking about homeschooling her again. Too many germs at school, and she would keep getting sick. I knew it would be the best, but mental health-wise, it was dodgy. Mai was just starting to make friends, and now she would be pulled away again. Whatever they decided, I would be behind, but it still hurt to think about. I remember isolation. I hated it.

Waiting on an angel

I smiled. I loved Ben Harper, and this was one of my favorites. Namjoon and I listened to Welcome to the Cruel World on repeat during our cross-country trip to Seattle the summer before we started college. Neither one of us could sing, but we sure did try. Late nights sleeping in the backseat of his car with him humming along made the sweat worth it. Even if I woke up with knots in my back and an ache in my knee that did not go away for a few days… I would not trade those nights for the world. Even now, I feel my heart grow fuzzy from the fond memories.

I looked at the water again. It was crystal clear and calm, my leg swinging disturbed the perfect stillness, but I was happy with how clean it was. The chlorine treatment I gave yesterday afternoon hung around in the air, but I embraced it. I loved that smell. I took a deep breath, relaxed even more, and leaned back, supporting myself with my hands, and continuing to kick my foot. It felt so lovely.

So speak kind to a stranger.

'Cause you'll never know

It just might be an angel come.

I sang along, my voice cracking, and swayed with the guitar. The first time I heard this song was at a swim meet in College Park, and Namjoon had taken the drive with my parents to support the team and me. We were leading the competition from the start, and I had led my team right to first place. We had even broken a record.

The crowd screamed, and I could hear feet rumbling the bleachers. My team was in a group hug when I got out of the water, and I rushed to join them. Tears streamed down my face, and I laughed in disbelief. Ozzie and I made eye contact before he made way in our huddle for me to squeeze through. Jessica and Dinah were sobbing, and Shay was giving a speech that no one was listening to. Ozzie buried his head in my shoulder.

Coach Guy clapped us on our backs and was jumping with excitement. Our little huddle finally broke when Ozzie’s mom broke everything up.

“You did so well, Marie!” She screamed.

This was before Ozzie had come out to his parents. I noticed his face crumble but quickly schooled his expression before she could see the disappointment. He would tell his parents not too long after this event. Namjoon and I saw one another before I saw my parents, and we both quickened our efforts to get to one another. His arms were so comforting, and I relaxed as soon as I was in them. All the anxiety I had within me was gone, and the win finally sank in. We won. We did it. We would bring a trophy home.

“Dude, you were like a bullet out there, Nemo!” He yelled in elated disbelief, rubbing my head.

I did not respond. Instead, I pulled him closer and allowed myself a moment of peace. Namjoon never ceased to make me feel like the most important person in the world. He always showered me with compliments and words of encouragement. Coach let him get on the bus ride home with us, and as the stars shined, Namjoon and I shared a pair of headphones and let Ben Harper sing us to sleep.

Namjoon loved to watch me swim. Ironically enough, he could not. Namjoon was afraid of the water, but even then, he always jumped into the loch to make me happy. He always wore a bright yellow life jacket and brought along a pool noodle for good measure… I always laughed at him, too.

“Stop laughing,” He whined, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You just look so cute, Joon.”

“I’m taking this off.”

And then he stormed off, pouting the entire way, before throwing all his “gear” into the supply closet in the pool hall.

My eyes snapped open. There’s no way…

The closet had not been touched in years. In fact, I did not even use it. Coach Guy used to keep it unlocked to put bags in before the school had finally built a small locker room for the team, and since we did not have any equipment, I went untouched. Namjoon used to keep his swimming gear with the rest of our things, and I doubted anyone had cleaned it out. I had to beg for a budget to afford cleaning supplies, and I could imagine that no care had gone into keeping up with anything.

I dried off my stump before putting my leg on and heading towards the closet. I felt my anxiety growing. If this was inside, it would be more Namjoon to have around. Besides my ring and a few CDs and books his parents had given me, it was almost like he never existed. Luckily, the door was still unlocked. It creaked loudly, and I made a mental note to purchase some oil.

The room was very dark and dusty. I noticed a few backpacks still lying around. I even saw Ozzie’s old, checkered bag from sophomore year. He had sworn it was lost and never going to be found. Really, he just wanted something new. There was a fanny pack next to it, and I gasped. Hoseok’s stupid obsession with those things back in the day had always been questionable. Still, when he and Tilly started hooking up in our senior year, they had started to suspiciously disappear.

Those dirty rats.

I fished my phone out of my pocket and found the name I was looking for. Snapping a picture of the two bags, I sent the photo before calling.

Ozzie picked up after the third ring.

“Hello?” His voice was much deeper than the last time we spoke.

He had started taking T after he went to college.

“What’s up, Oz?” I greeted, smiling and crouching down to inspect more of the closet.

“Nothing. Dean and I went for drinks.”

I chuckled.

“You and brother-in-law getting along?”

“Oh yeah,” Ozzie coughed. “We’ve been bonding over beard growth. Don’t ask. It’s weird.”

“How’s my best friend-in-law?” I joked. “Oh, did you see the picture I sent you?”

“Whitney’s great. Busy with work and all.”

Suddenly, he was laughing.

“Holy shit, that’s still in there?”

“Yeah, man,” I laughed along. “Right next to this very inconspicuous fanny.”

He groaned, “How did they even get in there?”

“Coach was terrible with locking up.”

We laughed together. I missed Ozzie. No one has seen him since moving to Maine a few years ago. We did not talk for the longest time. I never reached out when I got addicted, and he did not want to come back after his family refused to accept him. The last time I saw him was at his wedding two years ago. I missed him dearly and always made jokes about following him up there. Of course, I did not think I could do something like that.

“How are they, anyway?” Ozzie asked, and I knew who he was referring to.

“Well,” I sighed. “Hoseok’s trying to move on, and Tilly isn’t happy about it.”

“Okay, so the usual ring-around?” Ozzie sounded exacerbated.

We all were.

“This time feels different,” I admitted, “Hoseok went out with someone else. He seems to like her, too. You remember Opal Richards?”

“No fucking way.”

“Dude, I don’t know, but she seems to be super different now.”

Ozzie laughed in disbelief.

“I’ve heard It all,” He mumbled. “At least it’s progress. Tired hearing about the drama between them.”

“Yeah, well. Hobi and I haven’t talked in a minute. Miss him a little bit. Tilly, too.”

A beat of silence.

“Andrea called and spilled all the gossip on you the other day.”

I groaned. Leave it to Andy to run her mouth about things. Jimin and I were nothing right now. It was just dinner and maybe a hug goodnight. I was unsure what I wanted, but I enjoyed his company and knew that what we were doing was more than friendly.

“It’s just dinner,” I argued.

“’Just dinner’ after how many years of being single?”

“Yes.”

“Liar.”

I rolled my eyes and started digging around again. I wanted to find that life vest. I might feel better about the pool if I had something like this to keep me afloat. It did not hurt that it was also Namjoon’s. He always made me feel safe. I wonder how he would feel about Jimin?

“I don’t really know what’s going on, Oz,” I admitted, “On one hand, I like him, but I feel so guilty about it. I mean… what about Joon?”

Ozzie sighed from the other line. It felt nice to tell someone about how I really felt. Even if Yoongi was a good ear, he was too busy with his own life to get any of my baggage. No matter how much I loved them, the rest of them did not know how to keep a secret. Trying to keep up with rumors on top of everyone else’s two cents was exhausting. I just wanted to figure things out and instead was getting unsolicited advice from people who have no idea what I feel like. I found another old bag but was not sure who it belonged to

“I mean this in the politest way possible; what about him?”

I laughed in disbelief. What? I felt anger bubble inside of me at the comment. Everything was about him. My entire life up until now revolved around all things Namjoon Kim and suddenly I am supposed to just be okay with seeing other men? How could anyone get that impression?

“Before you get mad,” He continued, “Just think about it, Y/N. Would he want you to waste your life away?”

I did not reply.

“Alright, different question: would he like this other guy?”

“Yes,” I answered without hesitation.

Namjoon would have loved Jimin.

“Would he approve of you two?”

“I think so?”

“Would he want you to be happy?”

I answered yes again. If nothing else, I knew that. Namjoon always put my happiness first, even when it made him want to rip his hair out. I knew he would not be mad at me for seeking out companionship- that was never my problem. I did not deserve that love. At least I felt like I did not. I was only starting to realize that I could be happy about things again, and a relationship was so far out of the picture it was odd to think about anyone. But Jimin is so friendly and warm, handsome, dazzling and dizzying, and most of all, Jimin understood me like Namjoon did.

They were so similar but so different. Rocks who were strong for the people they cared about. Namjoon was shyer than Jimin, less confident in what he said, and far less likely to put himself out there in the same way Jimin had for me. However, he had this warmth that surrounded him. Where Jimin dazzled me, Joon comforted me. I knew I would be done if I let Jimin in this weekend. No second-guessing myself or putting things off. Because unlike anyone else, Namjoon included, Jimin gave me hope.

“Go out and have fun, okay?” Ozzie said.

“I’ll try.”

“I have to go. Whit’s home, and she looks stressed.”

“Alright, Oz. Talk to you soon.”

“Love you, Nemo.”

“Love you, too, Crush.” I laughed.

I spotted the bright yellow jacket as soon as the phone call ended. It was more faded than I remembered, and the buckles were navy blue instead of the red I remembered. Beside it was a pool noodle, and I laughed. Maybe I could float around? Namjoon would be shocked to see me in something like this. Especially after all the shit I gave him about being unable to swim. Ironic.

I snapped the jacket on and grabbed the noodle before returning to the water. I took my leg off and slowly sank into the water. I relished the feeling of the water and closed my eyes. I kept the noodle by the pool's edge until I was ready to grab it. I held onto the ledge tightly; the feeling was foreign yet familiar. I laughed in elated disbelief. I was doing it. I was in the pool.

I was in the pool!

I kicked my legs and attempted to get used to the new feeling. I was tired and had not even been a full five minutes. I was out of shape. Even if I ran every morning before work, it had nothing on the water. Swimming worked with different muscles and strengths. While mainly running relied on my abs and legs, swimming was a full-body workout focusing on core strength, upper body, and feet more than anything else. Even the neck was worked out during a freestyle swim. I tried to remember to breathe properly. Even if I was not doing any strokes, I still needed to rely on the short, quick bursts of oxygen to keep myself in a swimming mindset. I continued to kick and felt the exhaustion take over. I needed a short break.

I took a few moments to catch my breath before pulling my body up and grabbing the noodle. I placed my arms over it, took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. I can do this, I told myself. Using my good leg, I gently kicked off the side of the pool and drifted away from the ledge. A wave of anxiety crashed over me, but I held onto the noodle and forced myself to keep my breath steady. I would cramp up if I tensed. Just relax. Slowly, I opened my eyes and found that I was not as far away from the ledge as I had thought. I was far enough to kick around without support. My goal for the night would be to reach the ledge again.

I would not leave until I did. I could not anyway.

I kicked for twenty minutes taking short breaks in between, and had not gotten any closer to the ledge. My balance was thrown off, and I was unsure how to stop going in circles. I groaned in frustration. I was so tired. But I kept going. I needed to get to the ledge.

“Come on, Nemo!” Namjoon called out, his voice echoing off the walls.

“What?” I demanded, breathing heavily and taking my goggles off.

“You were two seconds later than usual.”

“Fuck.” I cursed, securing my goggles back on.

“Again,” I said, diving before Namjoon could say anything.

If he could only see me now. I kicked again and went into another circle. My eyes started to water. I was an idiot for thinking I could do this. Why did I even come in here?

“Why are you so upset?” Namjoon asked, hugging me.

I cried, tears soaking his sweatshirt and snot beginning to stain it.

“I lost!” I wailed.

“We all sometimes do,” He reasoned, patting my head.

“Not me. I’ve never been a loser.”

“You still aren’t,” He scolded gently. “You’re still the coolest person in the world, Y/N.”

I kicked around again, trying to understand what was wrong. I had hardly noticed how unbalanced my hips were. My left side was significantly lower than my right, and I knew I needed to figure out how to get them on the same level. I began feeling out different positions for my leg and, at first, had no progress.

Then something happened. I kicked my stub up too far out of the water. In fact, it was so high up that I knew any coach would be repulsed by my form. However, it propelled me forward. As my leg came down, I was straight instead of around. I did it again. I moved forward again. I started kicking faster.

“Y/N?” Dr.Kim was still tying her robe as she opened her door.

I was sat on the front step, hardly able to sit up, and my eyes continued to shut. I had popped 20 Xanax before coming here. I did not even realize where I was going until I popped up on the Kim’s front porch.

“Oh, honey,” She sounded so pained.

I knew she had put her hand on my shoulder, but I could not respond.

“It’s cold out. I’ll call Vic to come and pick you up.”

“No,” I said, the word slurred and drawn out.

“Come inside then.” She insisted.

“Why can’t I be happy?” I was surprised she even understood me.

“Namjoon would hate to see you like this,” She caressed my face and forced me to face her.

She looked so much like him.

“Listen, Guppy, Namjoon would want you to be happy. Your happiness meant more to him than anything. To us, too. Please, stop doing this to yourself.”

I made it to the ledge and screamed. I did it. I cried and cried, the sound bouncing around the room. I used the last bit of energy to pull myself out of the water and continued crying on the floor.

“I did it,” I cried out. “Joon, I fucking did it.”

I knew he would have cried with me. He would have held me. He would have told me how proud he was of me.

“Your happiness meant more to him than anything.”

I was excited for Friday.

I put on a liner and a liner liner to ensure sweat did not cause my socket to slide around. The dry skin and scabs formed hurt like hell, and my dress’s fabric was scratching at them. Though I had initially wanted to go in my chair, and despite the pain, I put my leg on in the end. I knew I should allow it to heal until Monday so I could wear it to work without issues, but my insecurities made that hard. People would make fun of Jimin for going out with me. I looked over myself once more.

I had decided to keep everything simple. My hair was only slightly more put together than usual, and I was wearing more makeup than was the custom for my everyday style, but I could admit that I looked pretty. I reminded myself before, and I smiled sadly in the mirror. The dress I had managed to pull out of my closet was ancient, and I believed I had bought it a few weeks before the accident. It was a below-the-knee, white shirt dress that was very casual, and I planned on wearing my green bomber jacket since it was a little chilly out tonight. I remember I had planned to wear it to visit Namjoon’s parents' house. It still looked as lovely as it did before. I was satisfied.

While I was disappointed that I could not get some rest for my leg tonight, there was one thing that I could do that made it all better: wear heels. Or, well, heeled boots that my prosthetic foot would fit in. I spent a long time picking through my closet to find the “perfect” heel for the night. Of course, this was more about savoring the feeling of rummaging through them again. Before the accident, I had been the girl who never left the house without being done up. I wore makeup and dressed nicely, and heels were the only things I owned besides the sketchers I wore for working out. It felt good to get back to how things were again. I wanted to do this more often. I ended up picking a nude, heeled boot to keep things casual.

My phone chimed with a notification. It was the girl group chat Megan, Matilda, and Andrea were in.

Meg: Have fun! Mai’s okay

Y/N: I will

Andy: Yeah, Dr.Park’s yummy

I laughed out loud when Andy replied with nonsense and random emojis. Even if it was Friday night and she was at work, she was still checking her messages. Andy was an RN in the urology department and was so good at her job that no one cared about her sneaking texts when they were not busy. Andrea was also the most expressive of the four of us and was always with Megan laughing over coffee on her days off. I wished we could meet up more often.

Meg: I second that

Y/N: How do I look?

Y/N: sent picture

The photo was a regular mirror shot. My legs were crossed, and my hip slightly poked out. I never smiled in pictures and opted to keep my face out of sight. I knew Andy would make a big deal out of it. She always loved to blow smoke up my ass. Tilly had been radio silent since the hospital, and I was not expecting her to respond. Megan would be sweet. She and Andrea would usually be on the same page, but with Mai still recovering in bed at home, I knew her usual enthusiasm would not be present.

Meg: You look cute. Love the jacket

Andy: Sexy. Get laid, bitch!

Meg: Andrea!

Y/N: I’m muting the chat.

Andy: I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything ;)

Meg: Also muting. D-I-S-G-U-S-T-I-N-G!

My face felt hot. It had been a very, very, very long time since I had had sex. Namjoon was my last, and before Jimin, I had not been very interested in the activity. My disability made it hard to be naked with myself, let alone another person. Especially someone who looked like Jimin. However, he also made me feel safe. I thought about it; I realized that I would not mind having sex with Dr.Park. Not tonight, probably not anytime soon, but I could picture myself letting that happen. He would be nice. It would not change a thing. However, that is not on my list of priorities tonight.

A buzz tickled my palm.

Dr.Park: I’m outside :)

Y/N: Coming!

Taking a deep breath and looked in the mirror for the millionth time. I looked pretty. I felt pretty. I was going on a date with a nice guy. A handsome doctor wants to take me out. Jimin Park wants to take me out. I smiled and gave myself a few words of encouragement before locking up my house and getting inside Jimin’s white Lexus.

Jimin loved R&B. So far, Bryson Tiller and Usher had been playing softly in the background and helped fill in the moments of silence between us, and Jimin never failed to hum along softly. I was nervous, and so was he. His hands fidgeted in his lap like they did the first time we met, and I wanted to reach out and calm him. We were not close enough to do that, and I did not want to make him uncomfortable, so I kept my hands.

Jimin looked great tonight, and I felt giddy to be out with someone as gorgeous as he was. Even if we never went anywhere and stayed good friends, being out with Jimin was a nice stoke for the ego. His hair was slicked back as it usually was, not a single hair out of place, and his aftershave made the entire car smell like cedarwood. Jimin in semi-formal fashion was also a welcome surprise. He was all black, and the black button-up seemed to be screaming against his chest. Dr.Park was far more toned than I had initially thought. I forced myself to look away from a small piece of skin visible through a button.

“You look nice, by the way,” Jimin said.

“So do you,” I smiled and looked out of my window to hide my blush.

I felt like a teenager again.

“So,” He started, “I looked around Esther and chose the place that looked the most interesting.”

“Let me guess, Feugo Dragon?”

“No, actually,” He laughed. “That place looked like bad news.”

“You’d feel like you were dying before we got home.” I laughed at the look of disgust that came across his face. “One time, Hoseok-”

“Yeah, yeah, I got the picture in my head.” Jimin waved his hand around. “We’re going to a cafe out here.”

I hummed in response.

“Ross’or Rising Shine?”

“First one.”

“Perfect,” I smiled, and we briefly made eye contact. “The food’s better.”

Like the first time we went out, Jimin was a complete gentleman. We ordered coffee and pastries and sat at a table next to the large windows in the back while waiting for a barista to bring our food. Jimin wanted to wait by the counter, but an old friend was at the register and wanted any reason to escape work, even for a few moments.

“So, how do you know him?” Jimin asked, running a hand through his hair.

It was a habit of his. He told me a few days ago that he had always done it, but it would happen even more when his nerves were bad. His father did the same thing.

“Jackson?” He nodded. “We went to college together.”

“What college did you attend?” Jimin smiled; he was excited to pick at my brain.

He admitted that he liked hearing about me. I realized that I did not know much about him, though. A fact that bothered me. I did not want to seem pushy, but I was curious about him. Especially since I was beginning to come to terms with the fact that I did have something going on with him, whatever that may be.

“Edith University. It’s two blocks from this place. Jackson’s been working here since junior year.”

“When did you graduate?”

“Last year,” I waved at Chloe, Jackson’s long-time girlfriend, when we caught eyes from across the room. “The accident was our senior year, I was 21, and after that… well, you know. Namjoon’s dad is the principal at the high school, and they needed a coach for the swim team, so I got my instructional certification and redid all my CPR classes again.”

“What’s your degree in?” Jimin rested his head on the palm of his hand and got closer.

“Athletic training. I had originally gone for sports medicine and had a full ride for being on the swim team. But after getting the leg, I hate doctor’s offices and hospitals, so I changed directions and cut my losses with the non-transferable credits.”

“That’s understandable,” Jimin smiled at me. “I was in biomedical engineering, pre-med at Loyola before going to Harvard for medical school.”

Jackson finally came with our order wearing a significant smile. I was happy to see him and was even more delighted to know that his relationship was still intact. It was comforting to know that some things never change. Jackson would leave eventually; however, that was nowhere in sight. Chloe still sat in the same spot, waiting for him to get off. She still wore that ugly red, knitted scarf. Jackson still smelled like cinnamon. He still smiled at me as if nothing had changed.

“You look great, Y/N!” Jackson said kindly. “It’s nice to see you. You never come out to Esther anymore.”

I looked down, suddenly bashful, and scoffed.

“I’m out here all the time,” I confessed, “I see my doctor pretty often, but I never stop anywhere else.”

“Well, don’t be a stranger.” He winked at me. “You know I’m always in need of rescue.”

“I’ll come by more often, then.” I laughed, taking a sip of my coffee.

Then he was gone and embracing Chloe. He still had 30 minutes left on his shift. I knew Jackson was exhausted but chose not to think about that for too long. He let me off the hook for being out with a man, and I would do the same by not mothering him. I hoped he would text me later to hang out. Jackson was a great gym buddy.

I realized that I never called him either. Maybe I should hit him up instead. I barely recognized how little I had tried to keep friends after Joon passed, and Jackson was a very close friend. He called me a lot whenever I was trapped in my house… I just never picked up. I felt horrible. I would call him later, and we could go jogging. Or maybe a swim? I had not opened up about my successful experiment to anyone yet, and I knew Jackson was always up for a dip.

“He’s nice,” Jimin said

“Yeah, Jack’s cool.”

We finished our coffee and pastries with light conversation. Jimin has a little brother Jihyun who is getting a political science degree. His mother owns a restaurant on Las Vegas Strip, and his father is a casino dealer, explaining how he could afford school. They were so loaded that he never had to take out a loan or pick up a part-time job for books. His family home was massive, far too big for the four of them, and his father had recently spent $100,000 to landscape their backyard wholly renovated. His father wanted a pool, and Jimin’s mother wanted a waterfall, new foliage, and a self-watering system.

His childhood stories were sweet, and he was hilarious. I could not remember when someone made me laugh as hard as he had. It was nice. I admitted to myself that this was something. We had something going on, and I chose where we would go. That I was not sure of yet, but this was enough. For now, Jimin and I laughing in a cafe about his 12th birthday party disaster was enough.

“So now you’re terrified of clowns?” I was still laughing as I put my jacket back on.

Jimin had suggested a walk. My stub screamed in protest, the chaffing making walking extremely painful, but I pushed through it. I wanted to go on a walk with him. I ignored the pain as much as possible.

“When they pie you in front of your crush- one thousand percent.”

I winced as I put down weight and fought against my urge to gasp in pain. I was lucky Jimin did not notice my momentary break. I wanted this walk but did not want to wear my leg another second. The pain felt searing, but I pushed on, following behind Jimin and forcing myself to smile.

I did not want to ruin this. Even if Jimin said that he would not have minded me wheeling around for the night, I refused it. I wanted to be happy and carefree. I wanted to enjoy our time together without my insecurities messing up everything. I needed to calm down.

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, suddenly concerned, and reached out to me.

I stared at the point of contact. I cleared my throat and nodded my head. Again, I forced myself to smile and ignore the protest my stub with giving me.

“You’re limping,” He said. There was no room for arguing.

“Oh, yeah,” I brushed things off, “I’m just a bit tired.”

Jimin furrowed his eyebrows at me, and his lips parted slightly. He was so… pretty. I wished that things were different. That I was not disabled. That I was not afraid. That I could just be honest. However, I would be married in that timeline, and Jimin would just be the new doctor in town. I licked my lips nervously.

“Are you sure?”

This question surprised me. Usually, I would have been interrogated and forced to sit down. Andy would have taken my leg off and made Tilly carry me back to the car. Megan would give me a stern talking, and Hoseok would dig into me at our Monday meeting. Jimin seemed hesitant in his response and most definitely did not buy my lame excuse, but he still chose to let me go.

“Yeah! I’m usually asleep by now,” I lied coolly.

“Okay,” His grim expression suddenly became happy once more.

I felt horrible.

“How does a walk by the Loch sound?” He asked, smile dazzling as ever.

“Nice,” I again lied; the water made the air cooler and my skin dryer.

The walk was concise. Ross’ was only a block away from the dock to a layman; however, I knew the shortcut as someone who grew up in the area. Walking through the walking trail in the woods was a short 3-minute walk, and the prettiest part of Loch Keen was yours. The town was much closer to the sandy parts of the Loch; however, Esther was more marsh-like and dirty. Trees framed the body of water in a picturesque way, and fireflies loved to roam here in the summer. Jimin seemed on edge about the timesaver but relaxed once the opening at the end came into view. I admitted that I never took the trail if I was alone. He seemed pleased by this.

The water was calm tonight, and crickets chirped all around us. Megan hated the background sounds, but I loved them. I knew skunks roamed around these woods and tried to watch. Hoseok got sprayed in high school and was mortified by the stench that followed him around. I snuck a glance at Jimin and smiled to myself. He looked at peace and was not bothered by the sounds around us. I allowed myself to look at him, and it felt so lovely to stop thinking about everything else. I did not care what anyone else would say or think, how much I kept holding myself back, or the waves of guilt that hit me whenever he was around. I looked at Jimin without a care in the world.

I liked him. I wanted to keep looking at him. I never wanted this moment to end.

“Your happiness meant more to him than anything.”

“Can we get closer to the water?” He asked, eyes still on the Loch.

“Yeah,” I scrambled, looking around for a bench until one not too far away caught my eyes. I sighed in relief. “There’s something over there.” I pointed.

The world around us never stopped moving. Even with the water so calm and still, the occasional splash from fish caught a meal. I could hear the frogs now and chuckle at the loud ones. Crickets and owls still played the backtrack to our time by the Loch. Jimin still looked on quietly. So, I did the same.

I admired the way the moonlight reflected off the water. Even with its slow currents, the water never honestly stopped. I used to swim in the Loch during the summers back in high school. Tilly, Hobi, Namjoon, and I would swing from a rope Ozzie had set up and scream at the top of our lungs. Joon and I would race- him constantly losing- and Tilly would keep scoring as the other two cheer us on.

“Kiss me,” Namjoon whined, hugging me closer.

“Let me go,” I demanded, giggling and pushing on his chest without much effort.

“Kiss me first.” He bit my ear in retaliation.

“Joon,” I squealed, bringing my shoulder up to hide my neck from his greedy mouth.

He chuckled against my skin, and we made eye contact.

“Come here,” I sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “I’ll give you a kiss, big baby.”

I smiled at the memory. I would give anything to return to our senior year of high school when Namjoon and I were at our peak. Before all the fights, hurtful words, and not speaking for days at a time. Before he was gone, I had so much fun at this place, many cherished memories, and I felt myself sink.

No one would find me until Monday.

I shuttered at the thought. I knew I should see my psychologist again and get back on something. I knew I needed to. However, getting the courage to do that was impossible. And I was afraid of what people would say. I was so over the gossip about me and the side comments. I hated Loch Keen. I hated this place. And now, I hated the water, too.

But when I looked over and found Jimin already looking back at me, I realized that I did not mean a word of that. I loved the water, missed it, and yearned for it. The loch was still the most beautiful thing about this small tri-city. And Loch Keen had all my closest friends in the world. It even had my new favorite of them all.

“I was in a frat back when I got my undergrad,” Jimin suddenly said.

“Yeah?” I smiled at him. “I’ve been to my fair share of frat parties. Who were you with?”

“Beta Tau Sigma,” He looked back to the water. “That’s when my drinking got out of hand.”

“In frat?” I asked, my voice suddenly soft.

I was afraid that he would stop talking if I got any louder.

“Yeah, drinking and doing drugs is glorified in a situation like that. You know how it is; we’re expected to get as fucked up as possible every night of the week if we can.” Jimin paused.

“I joined because my dad was in the same frat back in the day. Loyola and Harvard are both his alma maters, just like me. I never really had a choice with what I wanted to do. It was either a doctor or a lawyer. My dad’s a lawyer, and I didn’t want to work with him, so I picked doctor, and here I am.”

“But you didn’t want this?” I asked, shifting closer to him.

“Everything in my life was handpicked for me by my parents. I understand why they did it. They were first-generation immigrants who struggled to make it big in the states. They didn’t want that for Jihyun and me. But it just backfired once I was out in the real world. I was a sheltered kid who had no idea what I was doing when I first got to college.

“Then, shit changed. My dad and I got into a huge argument when I told him I was considering changing my major to graphic design since I had always wanted to do something art-related. He disowned me over the phone, and I started a huge rebellion spree. I drank, smoked, and started popping the guys and roll. I would get so fucked up, but my grades never dropped. I stayed for my mom’s sake, but I walked around campus drunk for my last two years at Loyola. I snorted coke every morning to keep myself going and drank all day to keep the shakes away.”

“When did you quit?” I asked, voice even smaller than before.

“A year after I graduated. I was in the middle of applying to medical schools all over the place and took a gap year to get myself straight. I didn’t get sober until my dad came to my apartment in New Orleans, and we finally spoke. He’s the one who checked me into rehab after finding me in my condition. After six months of sobriety, I finally applied for Harvard Med and got in. Been doing alright ever since.”

Silence came over us. The once calming view of the water felt suffocating. I wanted to look at him, but I did not want this to end. Jimin was finally opening up to me, and the implication touched me. He never talked about this in our meetings. Sure, I heard a story about something dumb he did when drunk, but all the other stuff was kept under lock and key. So why would he share this with me? Was it because I spoke with him? Whatever the reason, I was grateful he trusted enough to talk with me. These things are never easy.

“Are you and your family okay now?” I finally asked.

“Yeah, we’re closer than we were before.”

“Are you okay now?”

I finally looked at him. I wanted to see his facial expression. I wanted to touch him. He looked my way, but not directly at me, with his hands clasped together in his lap. I was hesitant to go for it. I did not know if he wanted physical comfort or not. But…

I placed my hand on top of his. He looked at me.

“You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.” I smiled at him. “Honestly, my parents and I don’t speak at all, so I get that… I also understand if you don’t want to answer. I don’t like talking about my feelings either.”

I went to take my hand from his, but Jimin grabbed me before I could get too far. His hand was warm and had a light sweat, but it did not bother me. I looked at him, confused. Jimin leaned closer and tugged at my hand to pull me towards his body.

“I’ve never been better.” He whispered.

And then he was curling his fingers in my hair and kissing me. His lips were chapped from the cold air, and I could taste the coffee from earlier on his tongue. It was perfect. His mouth moved, commanding me to keep up, and his tongue tickled at my lip. I opened my mouth, and everything deepened after that. Suddenly, I realized the water was not the most beautiful thing in Loch Keen, it was Dr. Jimin Park, and my body rushed with heat. And just like the first time we met, I saw everything I could ever want or have play out behind my eyelids. I could see my whole life with Jimin.

I wanted him. I wanted this.

“Take this off,” He whispered when we finally separated.

He ran his fingers over my prosthetic.

“No,” I breathed out, holding his shirt tightly.

“But you’re in pain.”

“Just please,” My voice was small, and I dropped my head. “Please just kiss me for a little longer.”

“Okay,” And he sealed our lips together once more.

I took a deep breath and looked over at Jimin. He had shown up at the school so we could head to the meeting together. Even if I was flattered that he had gone out of his way to pick me up, even going so far as to offer me a ride to work in the morning, I had a massive pit in my stomach. I was anxious to be seen together, especially since people were already gossiping about us. Jungkook made a joke about us today at practice and explained that his mom had told him about seeing us together in Edith. And for Mrs. Jeon to know about us meant that it had already spread to the entire town. The Jeons, much like Victor, was not a fan of talking about anybody else’s business. Jungkook, however, was a big mouth.

“I’m nervous,” I admitted, looking down at my hands.

Jimin sighed and placed a hand over mine. He was always so warm. I closed my eyes and held onto his thumb tightly.

“Me too,” He replied, “But I want to show you off more than I want to run away.”

I scoffed

“Show me off? Really?”

“Really.”

“You’re not embarrassed about what people are saying?”

“Hell no,” He looked flabbergasted.  “I’d give you a lap dance in the 7/1. They’d talk regardless of whether I shook my ass or bought you a taquito.”

I laughed wholeheartedly. The image of Jimin twerking in the middle of the gas station was both visually appealing and hilarious. He had hips to die for and a great ass, but I could not imagine him having much rhythm. Or enough confidence to pull it off without laughing at himself. Then it dawned on me that the situation sounded familiar, and I began to laugh harder.

“That’s like a scene from Magic Mike.” I managed to get out.

Jimin smiled at me.

“How much for the Cheetos and water?” He asked.

My eyes widened, and a choked on my own spit. How the fuck? Dr. Jimin Park just quoted Richie. Fucking Big Dick Richie. I have heard it all.

“You watched XXL?”

“I also watch the first one.”

We laughed together this time. I noticed that my nerves were gone. He was right. It was stupid to care what anyone had to say about us when we were both into one another. Why even bother when Jimin and I could fawn over Matthew McConaughey together? I snorted, and Jimin laughed harder, tears pooling in his eyes.

“You snort!” He cried, clutching his stomach.

“I do not!” I exclaimed in between laughs.

“You just did!”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

A knock on my window stopped the feud. Instead, Jimin and I both screamed and looked to find Yoongi laughing his ass off. I opened the car door, feigning anger, and lightly kicked his leg.

“You scared the shit out of me, asshole.”

Yoongi continued laughing, and I got out and stormed off before he could compose himself enough to respond. Even halfway across the parking lot, I could still hear his laughter. Jimin caught up with me a bumped my shoulder. I bumped his back and grinned at him. He returned the gesture.

“Y/N!” I heard someone call out from behind me.

I turned to see Hoseok sprinting towards me. Jimin and I stopped walking and waited for him to catch up. When he was close enough, I could tell something was wrong. I abandoned my place beside Jimin and quickly got closer to the brunette.

“I’ll see you inside,” I quickly said to Jimin, not sparing him a look back before Hoseok was right in front of me.

“We’ll be quick,” Hoseok shouted towards my partner and grabbed my wrist to get somewhere more secluded.

We only had talks like this if something was wrong with Matilda or if Hoseok was struggling with his sobriety. With the way things have been going, though, I strongly felt something was wrong with Tilly. She had not spoken to me in weeks, and even Andrea was having difficulty contacting her. Hoseok let go of me and began to pace.

“Promise me you’ll keep this between us.” He spoke.

“Promise.”

He stopped pacing and stuck out his pinky finger. Without hesitation, I linked mine with his, and we touched thumbs. This was far more serious than I thought it was. Pinky promises were sacred in our group.

“Ozzie said you spoke yesterday,” He started.

“Yeah, I called him. I was at the pool looking through some and found his old backpack.”

“Yeah, he called me this morning and told me about it. Said you missed me.”

“Hobi, what’s going on?” I cut to the chase; his erratic behavior was throwing me off.

Hoseok was always calm and collected at times like this, and seeing him off his A-game made my fears grow. This was obviously about Matilda, and whatever it was made Hobi scared. That was a new one for me. Nothing scared him more than himself.

“Matilda’s missing.”

“What?”

My stomach dropped. Missing? Where could she have gone? Even when she has released before, Matilda was never the one who went MIA, and no one knew if she was alive or dead. That was Hoseok’s MO. I began pacing with him. She could be anywhere.

“What happened?” I demanded.

“She relapsed last week.”

“Last week!” I yelled, my anxiety paving the way to anger. “And you’re just now telling me?”

“She said she’d kill herself if I told anyone! And you know how she is when she’s high, Y/N. I couldn’t risk that.”

I took deep breaths. He was right. Matilda would probably have attempted suicide again. She had done so anytime she thought someone besides the man in front of me found out. We almost lost her the last time. I nodded.

“I understand.” I rubbed my eyes.

I had pinky promised and swore myself to secrecy. I was being forced to stay quiet about Matilda.

“Why aren’t we telling anyone?” I demanded.

“Because I want to find her and bring her home safely. Sarah would call the cops, and Tilly bought meth from Holt. I talked to all our dealers, and she’s been looking around for spice.”

Meth and spice were similar but had vastly different effects on Matilda. Meth had her up for days, picking at her skin and measuring bolts in her shed. However, spice was like bath salts in its effect on the brain, and she would be a danger if she got her hands on some. Hoseok’s fear of police presence was understanding. Matilda would more than likely get locked up again and face up to 10 years if she got charged with another felony. This is something that would not bother Sarah. She would rather her be safe in jail. Neither Hoseok nor I wanted to see her in a cage again.

“I’ll call some guys,” I finally said, looking at the ground in thought.

“Holt said she’s not far from home as far as he knows but definitely out of it.”

“What did she relapse on?”

“I found her drunk in my living room crying.”

Typical response from her. I would have to call Fern, our dealer in Edith, to see if Tilly had stopped by for anything. Fern usually had Adderall and crack, but she would buy spice for Tilly every now and then back in the day. Her brother, Gabriel, might know where she was, too. Hoseok most likely did not want to involve him. I scrapped the idea.

“Where is she?” Hoseok was talking out loud.

He was torn up inside. Despite their recent problems and long history, they still loved one another. I felt horrible for being out of touch with everyone once Jimin came around. The last time I spoke to Hoseok was when I ignored him to hang out with the doctor. I could not recall giving him any attention at the hospital either. Realizing how bad of a friend I had been, I quickly embraced Hoseok and apologized.

“It’s my fault,” He replied, crying. “We always put you in the middle of everything.”

“I still should’ve been around more.”

“I’m sorry for ruining your night with McDreamy.”

“You never ruin my night, Hobi.”

We were crying, holding one another, and whining about how sorry we were about being absent from one another. It had been years since the two of us had gone this long without speaking at least twice a week, and we were feeling it. It was relieving to be back in his arms. I had missed Hoseok. I had not even realized I missed him as much as I did until now. Hoseok sneezed in my hair.

“Gross,” I whined, not letting go of him.

“My bad.”

Hoseok let go first and wiped his face. I followed suit and groaned. I got massive headaches after crying, and my sinuses clogged from my drippy nose. It would go away soon, but it would be noticeable that I had been crying, and Frank would comment on it.

Wait…

“The meeting!”

Hoseok and I looked at one another before running inside, cursing the entire way.

We stormed in 20 minutes late and got a stern talking-to from Sarah. Everything went smoothly after that, and I felt a weight off me. Hoseok and I were okay again. We could talk again. Jimin did not push for me to speak and I appreciated that. Enough of the after meeting talk was about Matilda’s absence and I had a terrible time keeping my mouth shut. Jimin made an effort to stay clear of asking about her and instead talked about his secret love for the Magic Mike series before dropping me off with the promise to be bright and early the next morning.

Jungkook was off today. His usual perfection and sharpness were replaced by sloppy form and an even worse time. Frankly, I had noticed he had been absent all day. My star swimmer was lost somewhere, and I needed to figure out what was happening. I called him out each time he dropped below his standards, something that would typically egg him on to prove himself, but today all it seemed to do was make the situation even worse.

Oliver was doing worse than usual, and Jeremy Cohen was swimming faster than I had ever seen him, which would have been great if his form was not horrible. Everyone was in perfect synchronization. Everyone was fucking up just as badly as the other. I grit my teeth to keep myself from yelling at him again. Jungkook was swimming like he had nothing else to give me, even when I knew that he did. Jeon was born for the water, and his shitty performance was making me angry. The fact that I chose to opt-out of wearing my liner liner today did not help, my stub was slick and wet, and my socket kept sliding around.

I blew my whistle.

“Alright, we’re done. Get dressed and get out,” I called out, my voice giving away my displeasure. “Jeon, when you’re done, I need to see you. The rest of you,” my eyes found all of them, “get your shit together before our Wednesday meet, or else we’re doing a 400 IM.”

That should get them moving with a sense of purpose.

Jungkook approached me a few minutes later, and the two of us went into my office. It was a minimal space and smelled of chlorine, but I liked how cozy it was here. Whenever I was in high school, coach Guy was still working here. I would sit in here and help him make drills. Instead of pictures of his family all over the walls, there are pictures of me with my friends. My sobriety coins were on display, and my degree and certifications. Even some of my old trophies when I competed were in here. I sat in my chair while Jungkook took the seat across from me.

He looked apprehensive. This was new territory for me. I was used to Jungkook being cocky and overly confident. Of course, he had the chops to back it up. This, however, was a new look. Seeing him anxious and nervous was scary if I was not going crazy. I wanted Jungkook back.

“What’s going on, Jeon?” I asked, my body relaxed to make him chill out.

“Just an off day, coach.”

I hummed.

“Want to talk about it?” I softened.

Sure, he was a kid, but he was still my boy. All my guys could talk to me if they needed it. Jungkook never took me up on that, but I was hoping today that would change. It was apparent he needed someone to talk to.

“I didn’t get into San Diego.” He deadpanned, voice harsh and shoulders tense.

Now I understand. The University of California was a great school, and the San Diego location had been Jungkook’s dream school because of its impressive swim team. I had my eyes on it whenever I applied for schools but stuck with Edith to be close to Namjoon. I always regretted it, but Edith’s team was great, too. However, Jungkook had no interest in staying anywhere near Esther. It had always been San Diego.

“I’m sorry about that,” I said, keeping eye contact with him. “I know you were looking forward to it.”

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” He sobbed, and my heart broke.

“Kook,” I began, “You applied to so many schools. San Diego isn’t the end of it all.”

“And?” He sniffled. “San Diego was all I ever wanted.”

I took a deep breath. I could not let this idea fester in him. At all. Jungkook would never leave this place if he dwelled too long. So, as much as it bothered me to do, I became more assertive. Jeon liked being told what to do while still having an out.

“Don’t say that.” I kept my voice calm and steady.

“You applied to Stanford, Yale, and Princeton. I know Rollins has a good program. Bentley State is great. The University of California’s home base has an even better program than San Diego.” I exasperated. “Don’t get stuck here like me because you didn’t think you could do better than Edith.”

Jungkook nodded his head and picked up his stuff before leaving. I knew he needed time, yet I wondered if I had said too much. I was terrible at this. A ding distracted me momentarily.

Jimin: Heard from Jungkook’s dad that he got a letter from UC?

Y/N: Yeah… bad news

Jimin: Damn

Jimin: He okay?

Y/N: Not at all

Y/N: I think I made it worse

Jimin: Doubt that. Just let him cool down and soak it all in. He should be getting some more letters in the mail soon.

Jimin: He’s too talented not to

Y/N: He is

Jimin and I had these small conversations at least twice a day while he was working. It was almost impossible to see him during the week, and after working 70 hours, he was always too tired to meet up on his days off. We had not had the chance to see one another for more than 30-minute lunch breaks and an occasional movie night since our night together two months ago. And while we have not officially said anything, we were seeing one another. Not boyfriend and girlfriend but not friends. I was enjoying taking things slow.

Jimin: I have three days off as of tonight

Jimin: And I’m not on call…

I had a large smile on my face. He was just so cute.

Jimin: Dinner at my place?

Y/N: Will there be strippers?

Jimin: I may or may not have a copy of Magic Mike

I laughed, and another message came through while typing my response.

Jimin: I’ll get takeout

Y/N: You had me at Big Dick Richie

Jimin: But Mike has the magic

Y/N: “How much for the Cheetos and water?”

Jimin: …Touché

“You seem happy.”

I stopped in my tracks. I had been on my way to Jimin’s house after finishing up some paperwork, and there was Matilda, standing by the edge of the pool. A huge bottle of Jack Daniels was in one hand, and she was picking at his skin with the other.

Tilly had a faint sheen of sweat covering her entire body, and her eyes were lidded heavily. I could smell the booze all over her from where I was standing, instantly cautious. She was not in a good mood, her anger very apparent in how she glared at me and swayed. Her button-down was wide open, revealing her breasts and significant cuts all over her stomach. The blood oozing from them was all over her pants and torso. I found myself shaking. This was not good.

“Tilly, what are you doing here?” I attempted to be casual; my voice relaxed even if I felt like running. “Where have you been? Hoseok and I have been trying to find you for days.”

A relapse was typical in this life, I was all too familiar with the push and pull of addiction, but Matilda Frasier was a completely different ballgame. She was mean. Violent. Tilly was scary and lashed out constantly at whoever was close enough for her to criticize. When we got stoned together, it was commonplace to spit on me. She punched Hoseok in the face when on PCP and almost bit off his ear. Yoongi had to hold her down the last time she relapsed before stabbing Taehyung, thinking he was a zombie trying to eat her. Even though I could smell the alcohol in the air, I had no clue what else could be going on with her. I needed to call somebody. She took a step toward me.

I took one back.

“Why doesn’t he love me?”

I felt my eyes watering up.

“Hobi loves you very much, Tilly.”

Then, before realizing what was happening, she threw the bottle at my head. I could dodge out of the way, and it shattered on the wall behind me. My leg fell from under me, and I was on my ass faster than I thought possible. I cried out in pain when I felt that familiar burning under my skin. I was sure I would have nasty chaffing. My sweat began to pool into my socket liner, and I knew the slip would only make getting up harder. I began to cry.

“How dare you?” Matilda screamed, face turning even redder. “Are all I’ve done for you, and you take his side?”

“Stop,” I said, dragging my body further away from him.

My leg hurt so badly.

“Come here,” Matilda was on me very quickly, grabbing my good leg and dragging me closer to her before struggling to restrain me.

“You must be fucking him, too,” She spits, finally managing to get on top of me and sitting on my chest, making it impossible to breathe. “You good for nothing, little whore. How long have you been screwing Hoseok? Bet you were hopping on his dick since day one, huh? Slut!” Matilda then slapped me across my face making my eyes water more from the sting. “No wonder your parents hate you. Must hate being related to such a fucking needy cunt.”

I cried and begged for her to stop. My chest burned, and my increasing panic made it even harder to catch my breath. Berthing hurt. I continued to struggle against her. However, my leg fell off from the sweat built up, and I cursed myself for not wearing two liners today. Matilda just laughed.

“Hey, Nemo,” She yelled, a smile stretching across her whole face, and the sudden happiness mortified me. She was on something. From what I knew about Matilda, it was most likely spice or salts. I was in genuine, grave danger. “You want to go for a swim?”

I screamed and pushed her away. The panic had utterly taken over my body, and the need to get away was strong. I used the moment Matilda was briefly distracted to kick her in the face with my good leg before dragging myself to a chair two feet away. I need that to get up. I heard her curse, and I knew I would not make it. I screamed for help once more and accepted the kick to the teeth.

Matilda grabbed me by my hair and pulled my body in the opposite direction, causing my stub and leg to scrape against the concrete. Blood started spilling out of my cuts, filling my mouth with the iron liquid. I still fought against the assault and yelled for help. I would not go down without a fight.

“I love you, Y/N,” Tilly cried, grabbing my face. “You’re my best friend. Why would you do this to me?”

She was in hysterics quickly, and I did not know what to do. She had never been this violent with me before. I thought about Hoseok and began crying even more, challenged by what he must have gone through with Matilda. She began caressing my face and rubbing my skin harshly. Her tears did not stop, and the crazed look in her eyes haunted me.

“Tilly, I would never have sex with Hoseok.” I pleaded, placing my hand on hers.

This was not the right move. Because the second I touched her, that dark looked came back over her and her grip became even tighter. We were very close to the pool now. I removed my hands and began to beg for her to stop once more. And to think, not too long ago, I was sitting in here thinking about drowning myself. It looks like I wouldn’t have to wait until Monday after all. Jimin would be looking for me much sooner.

“Liar!” Matilda said, voice much louder than before. She banged my head against the concrete.

As she picked my body up, I stopped fighting. I would need my energy to get out of this pool alive. I began to pray. Even if I was not religious, I prayed for Matilda and me and our safety. I asked for forgiveness for everything I had ever done. I wondered for Jimin and my friends to be watched upon. But mostly, I asked God to let me live through this. I promised to swim again if he gave me the strength to survive. And then I was being thrown.

The water was ice cold, and I immediately froze. My panic took over as I began to sink. I was unsure how to balance myself with my legs, and my fear spiked again when I heard another splash. Matilda was in the water, too. I tried to find my footing on the bottom, but the water was too deep. I continued to splash around and keep myself above water.

I tried to calm myself enough to think and finally took a deep breath before diving underwater. My eyes burned, but I saw that I was very close to the pool wall and that Matilda was not too far away from me. She was also swimming closer. She was not very fast, and I knew the drugs and alcohol would leave her at a disadvantage. I gave myself one more second to think before going back up to catch my breath.

I could reach the wall if I pushed my body in that direction. There was no ladder, but I could use the ledge to drag myself up. My upper body strength was good enough. I began to kick out my good leg and arms to get closer. This did not work very well. So, I rotated my hips and brought my arms out much more aggressively than usual, just as I had the other night. This made me much faster, and the movement felt more fluid. I knew I could get better with practice. I coughed on the water I accidentally swallowed and kept trying to blink the chlorine sting out of my eyes. I made it to the ledge.

I cried in relief.

Matilda wrapped her arms around my mid-section and pulled me back in, and another blood-curdling scream echoed off the walls. I was under the water quickly after and could not come back up. Matilda was holding me down. My lungs burned, and I kept swallowing water. All my air was gone, and I thrashed to escape her grasp. It was useless, but I never stopped fighting.

I opened my eyes again and saw that I was face-to-face with her crotch. Her long hair was floating around, and I reached out and pulled as hard as I could to get her to let go. I quickly came up as soon as the pressure was off my head and gasped for air. I was exhausted, and my body could not handle much more of this. I hated myself for being so cowardly. I should have gone to those swimming lessons. I would have been much better off. However, should’ve, would’ve, and could’ve been were not going to save me. I used Matilda’s body to kick off and went back to the ledge. It was within arm’s reach.

I hoisted half of my body up and felt Matilda grab my ankle and pull back. Acting on instinct alone, I quickly got ahold of the metal chair right in front of me. I was lucky I had weights on its seat, or it would have been useless. I continued to pull myself up, and Matilda continued to pull me back. Her hands were off for a second, and I could get up to my hips, but then they were higher on my legs, and the force took me back down. I screamed for help and for her to stop. It was on deaf ears.

“If I can’t have him, you can’t either.” She yelled, her nails digging into my leg.

I kicked at her again and looked back to see better where she was. Tilly seemed so different. So evil. This was not my best friend. She must be having a bad reaction to something. She needed medical treatment, but that did not matter to me then. She was trying to kill me, and I needed to get away. I successfully landed another kick to the face and sent her stumbling back, letting go of my leg. I finally was able to pull myself completely out of the water.

I crawled to the chair and managed to get myself up very quickly. Matilda would be behind me, so I took the few bumps and bruises. I needed to get off the ground. I hopped to my office, something I hated doing, and slammed the door shut. I locked it and frantically went to my desk phone. I knew no one would be at the school and dialed nine and Hoseok’s number.

“Hello?” He sounded groggy.

“Help me!” I screamed, my sobs getting louder, when I heard pounding on the other side of my door.

“Y/N?” Hoseok was far more alert now. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Matilda was screaming nonsensically on the other side of the door. I slid onto the floor and struggled to breathe. The screams only got louder, and I was afraid of what she could be hitting my door with to make it shake with the force. I hoped someone could get in time to help me. Before she opened the door, she attacked me with whatever she had in her hands. Another blow to the door had the hinges screaming against it.

“Matilda,” I cried, “She’s having a bad trip and almost drowned me in the pool.”

“Where are you?” He shouted, and I heard him call out to someone. “Opal’s calling the police.”

He was breathing heavily.

“I’m locked in my office. She’s trying to get in.”

“We’re coming. Stay with me, okay?” Hoseok’s keys rattled in the background. “What’s she doing right now.”

I thanked Ted, the paramedic who bandaged me up.

“We’re going to take you to the hospital to get your fully checked out,” he said. “We’ll probably leave in about five minutes as soon as we clear. Let me know if you start feeling weird, alright?”

Everyone from our group was here, except for Jimin, who was still tied up at the hospital. I had not yet gotten the chance to call him, but Taehyung had assured me he had spoken with him. He had said he was on his way. Hoseok had been holding me in the ambulance since he got here. His eyes were just as wet as mine.

Matilda had already gone to Hoseok’s. He said she had smoked a laced blunt the night before but that he watched over her. She had tried to have sex with him, but he rejected her and stayed with her until she fell asleep. Once he woke up, she was gone. He had called some of their old dealers to see if they had seen her, and Mark, a guy who had moved about twenty minutes away, had sold her some spice. She was most likely in psychosis when she finally ended up at the pool house.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Hoseok apologized again.

“It’s not your fault,” I cuddled further into him.

He was in rough shape. Watching Matilda get restrained and sent to the hospital in the back of an ambulance was heartbreaking. She had been doing so well. Even if I was still shaking, my body beat up, and my throat raw, I did not hate her. Tilly needed help. Though I was unsure if I could see her for a while, I wanted her to know I still supported her and her recovery, and Hoseok promised to be there when she got out. I knew he would be. That was just their relationship. I hoped this would not ruin the thing he had going on with Opal.

Everyone was here now, each taking their turn to check on me. Taehyung was a mess, hugging and rubbing his tears all over my face, and Jin did not do much better. Andy called me five times since Megan had messaged our group chat, and if it were not for Mai being sick at home, she would be here. I was grateful for all of them. It had been such a long time since I had felt this important. Yoongi and I made eye contact again (the police had been talking to him about what they would do with Matilda), and I knew we would speak later. He looked devastated. We were so close, and I knew I looked terrible. Bad enough to make him tear up.

A frantic voice cut through all the commotion, and my entire body sang in relief. He was here. Hoseok removed himself from my body and called out to Jimin, who immediately ran to my side. He had been crying, the dried tear stains on his face told me that, and he looked me over intensely.

“Are you hurt at all?”

“Just some scrapes and a busted lip,” I whispered. “Going to the hospital to get double-checked.”

“She tried to drown you?” Jimin stated though it sounded more like a question.

I nodded. His bottom lip began to wobble.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry.” And he held me.

Jimin kissed the top of my head and rubbed my back. I finally let out all the tears I had been trying to keep at bay for everyone’s sake. I had snot dripping all over my face, and my entire body shook with the force of my crying. This is what I needed. I knew I would not have put up as much of a fight any other day, but the thought of never seeing Jimin again pushed me to keep going. I did not know where we were going, but I was confident that we were so much more than I had ever anticipated. And I realized that the guilt was no longer there.

I leaned up and kissed him without caring who saw. I needed this. I needed him. I wanted it to go away, and the fear of losing him forever made me desperate to be as close to him as possible. He showed no signs of complaint and kissed me back with that same want. We only pulled away when I needed to breathe.

“I’m going to meet you at the hospital,” Jimin breathed out, nodding at the EMT, waiting for him to walk away so I could get into the gurney. “I’m going to get your leg from Taehyung and then follow the ambulance, okay?”

“Okay,” I nodded and grabbed his hand before he could leave. “I’m in this. I want you to know that.”

Jimin smiled and bushed his lips against mine.

“We can talk about this later, okay?”

Two years later

I slammed the trunk closed and dusted my hands off my shorts. I was exhausted and tired, but my body buzzed with excitement. In two days, I will be in Yucaipa, California. In two days I will be swimming in my first swimming competition of the year. In two days, I will be at the Paralympics. In two days, I will be an Olympian. I smiled at the thought. Win, lose or draw, I could finally say I was in the Olympics.

“Blinky! Andy’s on the phone!” Jimin called out, waving my phone above his head.

“Coming!”

I gave him a quick kiss and snatched the phone out of his hand before walking back inside. Jimin gave me a light pat on the butt, and I gave him a playful glare.

“Going to give Felix the house keys.”

“Okay,” I replied and finally gave my friend my full attention.

“Hey, Andy!”

“Hey, baby,” I heard the chime for FaceTime. “Answer it!”

Andrea was glowing, her skin dewy and glass-like, and she was sporting a rather large bump. The last time we FaceTimed, she had just discovered that she was pregnant. 5 months fly by quickly. Jin was next to her and gave me an excited hello.

“We miss you!” He said.

“We miss you, too, Jin.”

After the attack at school, I was lucky to escape with a minor concussion and scrapes and bruises. Matilda was sent to court-mandated rehab, and I started to retake swimming lessons. We spoke a few times after the ordeal, but her rehabilitation was hours outside of Loch Keen, and one day she had stopped responding to all of our calls. Even Hoseok’s. It took him 6 months, but he eventually moved on. It made a big difference in him, and he finally moved out of the Loch last year after his fling with Opal fizzled out. He bought a house in the same neighborhood as Ozzie and got a dog.

I began competing again after the first year of my lessons and did well. My competitive nature was in full force, and Jimin never missed a meet. He was a fan of screaming as loud as possible and waving around an obnoxious sign with my name on it. At one of these meets, I met a Paralympic coach who wanted to invite me to Colorado Springs to train with his team. I turned him down, but Jimin made me accept the offer not ten minutes later. We sold everything, bought a home in the front range, and made the long drive out here. Now, 7 months later, I was going to the Paralympics with my team.

“Meg and Yoongi are in Missouri,” Andy said. “I called them before you and they asked us to pass it along.”

“Wish we were coming,” Jin chimed in, “But somebody is pregnant and prone to throwing up.”

“Wow,” Andy sarcastically replied, stretching out the ‘o.’

“I love you.”

“Jerk.”

“Still here.” I offered, smiling fondly.

I was happy they were finally together. Jin asked her on that date a couple of months after Matilda left and it was history after that. I learned more about Jin then I ever wanted to know but it was still nice to see them happy.

“Did Vic really drive down with Megan?”

Andrea sighed, “Yes, my dad is really coming to watch you swim. Even brought the home movie camera with him.”

I laughed.

“I don’t know who’s worse, him or Jimin.”

“At least everyone will know you’re loved?” Jin offered.

“Who’s that?” Someone off-camera asked.

“Y/N.”

“Is that Tae?” I asked, a massive grin on my face. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed, taking the phone and walking away. 

Andrea yelled at him, but he seemed unfazed.

“When are you leaving?”

“Tonight. I just finished putting stuff in the car, Jimin’s giving our neighbor a key to feed Serendipity, and my team’s bus leaves at 5. So we’re probably heading out soon.”

“Keep me posted. I told Megan to FaceTime me when you start.”

“Glad to know you’re there in spirit, Tae.”

“Give me my phone!” Andy slapped Taehyung on the back and pushed him.

Though he did not budge, he relented.

“He’s so… ugh!”

I laughed. Even though I missed them, I was thankful for everything I had. Leaving loch Keen was the best thing I have ever done. My friends would always be there even when we were on different sides of the country. My heart swelled, and I could not stop smiling.

And to think there was a time when I thought I would never smile again.

The front door opened, and Jimin poked his head inside. It was time. I nodded and went to say my goodbyes. Andrea and Taehyung were still arguing.

“Hey, guys.”

“What’s up, Gup?” Andrea replied. “Shut up, rat! She’s talking!”

I shook my head and chuckled. That would never get old. Andy and Tae took frenemies to a whole new level sometimes.

“I have to go.”

“Aw, well, good luck, okay?”

“Good luck, Y/N!” Jin yelled. “Kick ass!”

“Text me when you get to the hotel,” Tae said. 

“Love you,” Andrea said.

“Love you, too,” I replied.

We said a few more words before I finally hung up. Jimin was in the doorway and hovering by the light switch. I sighed and nodded before going out to the porch and waited for Jimin to lock up before getting in the car.

Jimin pressed the start button and looked at me. He leaned over and kissed me before buckling up and turning on his Spotify playlist. 

“Remember what we talked about?” Jimin asked, driving off.

“I’m a winner no matter what.”

“And?”

“If I lose, that’s okay. But I won’t lose because I’m the shit.”

“That’s my gold medalist.” He joked.

Jimin grabbed my hand and placed it on his thigh like always. Jimin knew I was uncomfortable with him grabbing my left side, so he held my hand on his side of the car instead. It was the little things with him. His thumb rubbed circles on my hand.

 “I love you.”

Jimin smiled. 

“I love you, too.”

My phone buzzed and I found a text from Hoseok.

Hobi: Keep swimming, Nemo. Proud of you

I played with the ring around my neck and smiled.

I’m happy, Namjoon. So unbelievably happy.

Taglist:  @shrimpmsg @mwitsmejk​

[doctormage]

oh important Q i keep forgetting to post abt

I signed up to co-lead a new disability-focused employee resource group at my company & I don’t have to do anything for it til mid-January but I am myself so I’ve been prepping shit already

would anyone—preferably disabled AND/OR a caretaker for someone disabled—be interested in filling out an anonymous survey abt what accommodations you have or wish you had at your job? the results wouldn’t be published anywhere, I’m just using them to compile a list of ways to better accommodate employees ! no pressure ofc just seein if anyone would be willing to give it a go

(details & disclaimer under cut)

since I haven’t met w any other co-leads yet we haven’t agreed upon any definitions of “disabled,” which is basically impossible to comprehensively define ofc, BUT

based on what folks in the interest meetings mentioned & what is legally recognized/protected, I have been compiling info and resources for:

Mobility aid (wheelchair, scooter, cane, walking stick, etc) users

Amputees / prosthetic users

Deaf / HOH / auditory processing disorders

Blind / visually impaired

Dyslexia / dyscalculia

Autism & ADHD

Other physical limitations or disabilities that may benefit from work accommodations (serious injuries, tremors, chronic pain, etc)

Other mental illness diagnoses that may benefit from work accommodations (OCD, PTSD, bipolar disorder, etc)

Disabled folks’ caretakers (in terms of like, flexible working hours & healthcare coverage, not autism warrior mommy blog shit)

Miscellaneous mental health topics (depression, anxiety, etc)

If ppl are interested in the survey I would leave a box for anything I might’ve missed; feel free to let me know in the replies here also!

‼️DISCLAIMER‼️ I know the potential perils of identifying as disabled at work; I am not saying anyone MUST tell their employer of their disabled status. (I personally have never told my employer this information either.) I am absolutely open to feedback on my approach—I only respectfully ask that folks understand I am trying to help people, not endanger them. ty ❤️

& as always please let me know if I’m misusing any descriptors or if I’m using any outdated or harmful terms! I did my best to google but that can only take you so far ykwim. thx in advance!

[ryuichifoxe]

Feeling someone brush against his mental shields is an entirely new experience that only happened once before in the sewers, and just because the contact is expected doesn't make it any easier. It's strange and unnerving for once feeling like a prey instead of the hunter.

He sees the frozen expression on Emery's face as the truth is revealed. Expects an attack more than anything else, and definitely not shooting words and casual conversation. He acts so calm, it must be a facade.

A moment passes and although the air between them is still charged with tension Em goes back to work. Relieved, he releases his grip on the device that rests in his pocket and puts his free hand back on the table.

"It takes a certain kind of stupidity if you ask me." he breaths out weakly trying and failing to show no emotion.

"Oh the hand?" short pause " Yeah I tried to fix it myself but in the end I needed someone to take a look at it. It has been bothering me for a while now." It's a good enough excuse, so sure, he lets Em think that he is no good when it comes to tech.

At least if he can't find what's missing I can easily fix that at home.

The hand is in pristine condition otherwise although it is clearly a very old model. Em doesn't see much of these, maybe one or two of his clients have them. Old veterans who came back from war or other kinds of duty are usually still equipped with them but civilian amputees definitely don't get these at the hospital.

"I am actually left handed so I don't use them for... that. Well I was right handed before but then shit happened so here I am." he scratches the ridge of his nose. Em can see now in this close proximity that it was broken before and healed just a little bit wrong and doesn't have an entirely smooth curve anymore.

Oversharing much?

"Anyway, you have a pretty nice place here. I take it the shop is going well the cilents must be satisfied" Yeah, that's right casual conversation just like a normal person would do. Doing great!

-✘

Em thinks his controlled expression in the face of small talk and the fact that he recognizes some of the stolen parts, worthy of an academy award.

”You're right about one thing," he says, steady hands removing more plates and setting them aside with their respective screws. His voice is just as even, the customer service persona dropped in favor of remaining calm. " You are a dumbass. For coming back, I mean. And I'm one for not tossing you out on your face.”

Might not be the dumbest thing Emery has ever done but it's up there. Top three.

Still unsure if the man in front of him is just another telepath or a runaway re-gene like himself. You'd think a military grade prosthesis would be a dead giveaway. It's not. Neither is the palpable paranoia. And his usual intelligence gathering strategy is off the table. Doubts it would end well for either of them if he tried.

Curious, his eyes flicker to the rolled up sleeve. Below the elbow. Tight. Nothing to show at the collar either. Similar to his own but that's a far cry from proof. He follows the movement of the other hand, really taking in the details. Prominent facial features and scars. Em doesn't recognize him. Though that's not saying much, there are only a handful of cuckoos he could confidently identify. Two were recycled before...

Emery shakes his head, trying to chase away the building migraine accompanying the memory.

Don't go poking that bear or you won't get any fucking sleep this week, Becerra.

So, he refocuses and asks him to flex his hand, observing how the inner mechanisms work in harmony. A beautiful thing, really. Calming. Technology usually was. Outdated sensor is definitely a problem.

Tool cabinets line one wall and half of another. Some smaller chests house actual tools, most are used to keep spare, specialized parts organized. He makes sure to keep his hands visible approaching them.

Blue. Second drawer has the sEMG sensors. Should try a newer processing board while I'm at it. Get everything up-to-date.

The only sound in the shop for the next few minutes is Emery rummaging through drawers.

“Most people project. Y'know? Makes the job a little easier, saves me time and customers money, avoiding unnecessary tests.” The admission breaks the silence and he glances over his shoulder on the way to another cabinet. “Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you're not, but we both know that hand is too well maintained for me to believe you don't have a better understanding than you're letting on. Unless this is some sort of test...”

Supplies in hand, Emery walks back but can't quite bring himself to sit. Instead, he looks the man in the eye. Searching for answers, a clue, anything.

“What else are you getting out of this? And if you crack some two bit joke about a hand job, I will kick your ass and throw you back in the sewer. I'll be sure to send an itemized bill via rat.” There's a crack in his mask, the hint of a smile at his own joke threat, but it's gone in a blink. A guarded weariness takes its place. “Look...if you want reassurance, I'm not interested in ruining your life. Pretty sure the name you gave is fake anyway.”

[brittapcrrys]

admins, u really gotta stop putting shit like “for every [x number of] white muse/s you play, your next must be a person of colour [i usually see it as a 1:1 ratio but have seen 2:1 and worse before].............. OR otherwise diverse in some way”

so we’re still acting like various “types” of diversity, representation & inclusion are ALL interchangeable? as though the idea that ‘for every one (1) cis, abled, thin, white fc/muse under 40.................... the next one’s just gotta tick ONE of those ~ID diversity~ boxes’ is somehow fair and balanced and reasonable???

like ??!!? really? a faceclaim of colour can be ignored in this situation if ur gonna play.....a 60yo white fc, a fat OR disabled OR trans white fc? just so long as they are diverse in ONE way, that balances everything out fairly, yeah? [/sarcastic slant, and pointed rhetorical questions. for now]

for every 1 white muse, your next MUST be a muse of colour. always. it should be at least 2 muses of colour for every 1 white muse imo but im just trying to dig away at the bare minimum of respect and inclusion, here. and an admin team’s responsibility cannot just be to passively encourage it, sort of, maybe ‘we can’t force anyone to do anything hehe sorry’. if you can demand certain fc/oc age rules, activity limits, muse numbers per person, members in the group, post formatting etc........................ expecting and enforcing ‘stricter’ rules to ENSURE greater diversity in characters / from your members is a MUST.

and that’s the obvious one to start with and the easiest one to define a minimum ratio for, because, like, if we’re going on real global demographic statistics (even in our silly little made up idealistic fantasy writing worlds), then characters of colour SHOULD be the majority by a significant margin! asking for 1:1 is letting ppl off pretty damn easily!! (this is without even going into how some ppl with Tick That Box, every single time it’s required, with a fc who is mixed, white-passing or has lighter skin... im white, im repeating ideas i’ve read from muns of colour over the last few years, and im not digging further into this here but there’s a pattern of it that needs to be acknowledged and improved - but not at the expense of the experiences and inclusion of those fcs and muns of similar backgrounds. i am not saying it is only 1 or the other bc apparently ppl take it that way smfh)

the ~ratios~ and expectations you said for gender, body diversity, disability, & sometimes age (though like.... groups that set age diversity at 35&up are reaaalllly testing my patience) are sort of.....a grey area, im not equipped to say ‘this is the Correct and Precise number u need to enforce’. personally? i think if you have a player with 2 characters, 1 of them should (as well as, obviously, at least 1 of the 2 being a muse of colour) fit into one of these ~additional diversity categories~ which feels very fucking “ugh corporate mandates spreading the political correctness extremes down the chain now” gross to name it that but it’s 2:40am and this is mostly a vent / rant, likely to be deleted within 24-28hrs. again imo, 3 muses should be a 2:1 FCoC:whitefc ratio, and you need to be including at least 2 of the other lines of diversity in ur fc and character choices (how that’s done -, separately i.e. 1 is an amputee and another is genderfluid; or ‘combined’ i.e. a fat disabled muse & a 50yo trans woman - im v flexible on but like the more u up ur character count the more im gonna expect myself & others to be looking at fcs and muses with overlapping ‘diversity criteria’). but maybe ur a 1 in 3 kinda person, 1 in 4 is probably pushing it, and frankly anything more ‘lenient’ than that is just the admin team not caring enough abt these groups of people or prioritizing their visibility and inclusion in their group.

there’s more but this is already longer than i wanted it to be, and im getting more unsettled abt the clumsy wording by the second, & ALSO wanting to re-/over-explain every single point again to justify myself to all possible reader interpretations so. that is a sign to Quit.

[ganymedesclock]

These are questions I've had for some while and it's hard to find someone who'll answer with grace. This mostly relates to disabilities (mental or physical) in fiction.

1) What makes a portrayal of a disability that's harming the character in question ableist?

2) Is there a way to write a disabled villain in a way that isn't ableist?

In the circles I've been in, the common conceptions are you can't use a character's disability as a plot point or showcase it being a hindrance in some manner. heaven forbid you make your villain disabled in some capacity, that's a freaking death sentence to a creative's image. I understand historically villains were the only characters given disabilities, but (and this is my personal experience) I've not seen as many disabled villains nowadays, heck, I see more disabled heroes in media nowadays.

Sorry if this comes off as abrasive, I'd really like to be informed for future media consumption and my own creative endeavors.

Okay so the first thing I'm going to say is that while it IS a good idea to talk to disabled people and get their feedback, disabled people are not a monolith and they aren't going to all have the same take on how this goes.

My personal take is biased in favor that I'm a neurodivergent person (ADHD and autism) who has no real experience with physical disabilities, so I won't speak for physically disabled people- heck, I won't even speak for every neurotype. Like I say, people aren't a monolith.

For myself and my own writing of disabled characters, here's a couple of concepts I stick by:

Research is your friend

Think about broad conventions of ableism

Be mindful of cast composition

1. Research is your friend

Yeah this is the thing everybody says, so here's the main bases I try to cover:

What's the story on this character's disability?

Less in terms of 'tragic angst' and more, what kind of condition this is- because a congenital amputee (that is to say, someone who was born without a limb) will have a different relationship to said limb absence than someone who lost their limb years ago to someone who lost their limb yesterday. How did people in their life respond to it, and how did they respond to it? These responses are not "natural" and will not be the same to every person with every worldview. This can also be a great environment to do worldbuilding in! Think about the movie (and the tv series) How To Train Your Dragon. The vikings in that setting don't have access to modern medicine, and they're, well, literally fighting dragons and other vikings. The instance of disability is high, and the medical terminology to talk about said disabilities is fairly lackluster- but in a context where you need every man you possibly can to avoid the winter, the mindset is going to be not necessarily very correct, but egalitarian. You live in a village of twenty people and know a guy who took a nasty blow to the head and hasn't quite been the same ever since? "Traumatic Brain Injury" is probably not going to be on your lips, but you're also probably going to just make whatever peace you need to and figure out how to accommodate Old Byron for his occasional inability to find the right word, stammers and trembles. In this example, there are several relevant pieces of information- what the character's disability is (aphasia), how they got it (brain injury), and the culture and climate around it (every man has to work, and we can't make more men or throw them away very easily, so, how can we make sure this person can work even if we don't know what's wrong with them)

And that dovetails into:

What's the real history, and modern understandings, of this?

This is where "knowing the story" helps a lot. To keep positing our hypothetical viking with a brain injury, I can look into brain injuries, what affects their extent and prognosis, and maybe even beliefs about this from the time period and setting I'm thinking of (because people have had brains, and brain injuries, the entire time!) Sure, if the setting is fantastical, I have wiggle room, but looking at inspirations might give me a guide post.

Having a name for your disorder also lets you look for posts made by specific people who live with the condition talking about their lives. This is super, super important for conditions stereotyped as really scary, like schizophrenia or narcissistic personality disorder. Even if you already know "schizophrenic people are real and normal" it's still a good thing to wake yourself up and connect with others.

2. Think about broad conventions of ableism

It CAN seem very daunting or intimidating to stay ahead of every single possible condition that could affect someone's body and mind and the specific stereotypes to avoid- there's a lot under the vast umbrella of human experience and we're learning more all the time! A good hallmark is, ableism has a few broad tendencies, and when you see those tendencies rear their head, in your own thinking or in accounts you read by others, it's good to put your skeptical glasses on and look closer. Here's a few that I tend to watch out for:

Failing the “heartwarming dog” test

This was a piece of sage wisdom that passed my eyeballs, became accepted as sage wisdom, and my brain magnificently failed to recall where I saw it. Basically, if you could replace your disabled character with a lovable pet who might need a procedure to save them, and it wouldn’t change the plot, that’s something to look into.

Disability activists speak often about infantilization, and this is a big thing of what they mean- a lot of casual ableism considers disabled people as basically belonging to, or being a burden onto, the able-bodied and neurotypical. This doesn’t necessarily even need to have an able neurotypical in the picture- a personal experience I had that was extremely hurtful was at a point in high school, I decided to do some research on autism for a school project. As an autistic teenager looking up resources online, I was very upset to realize that every single resource I accessed at the time presumed it was talking to a neurotypical parent about their helpless autistic child. I was looking for resources to myself, yet made to feel like I was the subject in a conversation.

Likewise, many wheelchair users have relayed the experience of, when they, in their chair, are in an environment accompanied by someone else who isn’t using a chair, strangers would speak to the standing person exclusively, avoiding addressing the chair user. 

It’s important to always remind yourself that at no point do disabled people stop being people. Yes, even people who have facial deformities; yes, even people who need help using the bathroom; yes, even people who drool; yes, even people whose conditions impact their ability to communicate, yes, even people with cognitive disabilities. They are people, they deserve dignity, and they are not “a child trapped in a 27-year-old body”- a disabled adult is still an adult. All of the “trying to learn the right rules” in the world won’t save you if you keep an underlying fear of non-normative bodies and minds.

This also has a modest overlap between disability and sexuality in particular. I am an autistic grayromantic ace. Absolutely none of my choices or inclinations about sex are because I’m too naive or innocent or childlike to comprehend the notion- disabled people have as diverse a relationship with sexuality as any other. That underlying fear- as mentioned before- can prevent many people from imagining that, say, a wheelchair user might enjoy sex and have experience with it. Make sure all of your disabled characters have full internal worlds.

Poor sickly little Tiffany and the Red Right Hand

A big part of fictional ableism is that it separates the disabled into two categories. Anybody who’s used TVTropes would recognize the latter term I used here. But to keep it brief:

Poor, sickly little Tiffany is cute. Vulnerable. How her disability affects her life is that it constantly creates a pall of suffering that she lives beneath. After all, having a non-normative mind or body must be an endless cavalcade of suffering and tragedy, right? People who are disabled clearly spend their every waking moment affected by, and upset, that they aren’t normal!

The answer is... No, actually. Cut the sad violin; even people who have chronic pain who are literally experiencing pain a lot more than the rest of us are still fully capable of living complex lives and being happy. If nothing else, it would be literally boring to feel nothing but awful, and people with major depression or other problems still, also, have complicated experiences. And yes, some of it’s not great. You don’t have to present every disability as disingenuously a joy to have. But make a point that they own these things. It is a very different feeling to have a concerned father looking through the window at his angel-faced daughter rocking sadly in her wheelchair while she stares longingly out the window, compared to a character waking up at midnight because they have to go do something and frustratedly hauling their body out of their bed into their chair to get going.

Poor Sickly Little Tiffany (PSLT, if you will) virtually always are young, and they virtually always are bound to the problems listed under ‘failing the heartwarming dog’ test. Yes, disabled kids exist, but the point I’m making here is that in the duality of the most widely accepted disabled characters, PSLT embodies the nadir of the Victim, who is so pure, so saintly, so gracious, that it can only be a cruel quirk of fate that she’s suffering. After all, it’s not as if disabled people have the same dignity that any neurotypical and able-bodied person has, where they can be an asshole and still expect other people to not seriously attack their quality of life- it’s a “service” for the neurotypical and able-bodied to “humor” them.

(this is a bad way to think. Either human lives matter or they don’t. There is no “wretched half-experience” here- if you wouldn’t bodily grab and yank around a person standing on their own feet, you have no business grabbing another person’s wheelchair)

On the opposite end- and relevant to your question- is the Red Right Hand. The Red Right Hand does not have PSLT’s innocence or “purity”- is the opposite extreme. The Red Right Hand is virtually always visually deformed, and framed as threatening for their visual deformity. To pick on a movie I like a fair amount, think about how in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, the title character is described- “Strong. Fast. Had a metal arm.” That’s a subtle example, but, think about how that metal arm is menacing. Sure, it’s a high tech weapon in a superhero genre- but who has the metal arm? The Winter Soldier, who is, while a tormented figure that ultimately becomes more heroic- scary. Aggressive. Out for blood.

The man who walks at midnight with a Red Right Hand is a signal to us that his character is foul because of the twisting of his body. A good person, we are led to believe, would not be so- or a good person would be ashamed of their deformity and work to hide it. The Red Right Hand is not merely “an evil disabled person”- they are a disabled person whose disability is depicted as symptomatic of their evil, twisted nature, and when you pair this trope with PSLT, it sends a message: “stay in your place, disabled people. Be sad, be consumable, and let us push you around and decide what to do with you. If you get uppity, if you have ideas, if you stand up to us, then the thing that made you a helpless little victim will suddenly make you a horrible monster, and justify us handling you with inhumanity.”

As someone who is a BIG fan of eldritch horror and many forms of unsettling “wrongness” it is extremely important to watch out for the Red Right Hand. Be careful how you talk about Villainous Disability- there is no connection between disability and morality. People will be good, bad, or simply just people entirely separate from their status of ability or disability. It’s just as ableist to depict every disabled person as an innocent good soul as it is to exclusively deal in grim and ghastly monsters.

Don’t justify disabilities and don’t destroy them.

Superpowers are cool. Characters can and IMO should have superpowers, as long as you’re writing a genre when they’re there.

BUT.

It’s important to remember that there is no justification for disabilities, because they don’t need one. Disability is simply a feature characters have. You do not need to go “they’re blind, BUT they can see the future”

This is admittedly shaky, and people can argue either way; the Blind Seer is a very pronounced mythological figure and an interesting philosophical point about what truly matters in the world. There’s a reason it exists as a conceit. But if every blind character is blind in a way that completely negates that disability or makes it meaningless- this sucks. People have been blind since the dawn of time. And people will always accommodate their disabilities in different ways. Even if the technology exists to fix some forms of blindness, there are people who will have “fixable” blindness and refuse to treat it. There will be individuals born blind who have no meaningful desire to modify this. And there are some people whose condition will be inoperable even if it “shouldn’t” be.

You don’t need to make your disabled characters excessively cool, or give them a means by which the audience can totally forget they’re disabled. Again, this is a place where strong worldbuilding is your buddy- a handwave of “x technology fixed all disabilities”, in my opinion, will never come off good. If, instead, however, you throw out a careless detail that the cool girl the main character is chatting up in a cyberpunk bar has an obvious spinal modification, and feature other characters with prosthetics and without- I will like your work a lot, actually. Even if you’re handing out a fictional “cure”- show the seams. Make it have drawbacks and pros and cons. A great example of this is in the series Full Metal Alchemist- the main character has two prosthetic limbs, and not only do these limbs come with problems, some mundane (he has phantom limb pains, and has to deal with outgrowing his prostheses or damaging them in combat) some more fantastical (these artificial limbs are connected to his nerves to function fluidly- which means that they get surgically installed with no anesthesia and hurt like fuck plugging in- and they require master engineering to stay in shape). We explicitly see a scene of the experts responsible for said limbs talking to a man who uses an ordinary prosthetic leg, despite the advantages of an automail limb, because these drawbacks are daunting to him and he is happier with a simple prosthetic leg.

Even in mundane accommodations you didn’t make up- no two wheelchair users use their chair the exact same way, and there’s a huge diversity of chairs. Someone might be legally blind but still navigate confidently on their own; they might use a guide dog, or they might use a cane. They might even change their needs from situation to situation!

Disability accommodations are part of life

This ties in heavily to the previous point, but seriously! Don’t just look up one model of cane and superimpose it with no modifications onto your character- think about what their lifestyle is, and what kind of person they are!

Also medication is not the devil. Yes, medical abuse is real and tragic and the medication is not magic fairy dust that solves all problems either. But also, it’s straight ableism to act like anybody needing pills for any reason is a scary edgy plot twist. 

(and addiction is a disease. Please be careful, and moreover be compassionate, if you’re writing a character who’s an addict)

3. Be mindful of cast composition

This, to me, is a big tip about disability writing and it’s also super easy to implement!

Just make sure your cast has a lot of meaningful disabled characters in it!

Have you done all the work you can to try and dodge the Red Right Hand but you’re still worried your disabled villain is a bad look? They sure won’t look like a commentary on disability if three other people in the cast are disabled and don’t have the same outlook or role! Worried that you’re PSLT-ing your main character’s disabled child? Maybe the disability is hereditary and they got it from the main character!

The more disabled characters you have, the more it will challenge you to think about what their individual relationship is with the world and the less you’ll rely on hackneyed tropes. At least, ideally.

-

Ultimately, there’s no perfect silver bullet of diversity writing that will prevent a work from EVER being ableist, but I hope this helped, at least!

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

Penny being trans + autistic coded made me resonate with her as I am nonbinary and autistic myself. Her being a robot felt like me when I have to hide my neurodivergent traits. Her getting confirmation that she wasn't just a robot/machine but a real girl felt so validating. I don't have to look like everyone else to still be considered "real".

Ironwood's semblance being literal hyperfixiation, something I've dealt with since I have ADHD + autism would have made me feel better about myself. This is a man who, despite everything: his PTSD, being an amputee, still was a kind-hearted man. This is something rarely seen in media. I was happy.

Then they fucked up both Penny and Ironwood in ways that struck me. Penny is hacked into and forced to comply with basically forced suicide- she was to open the vault, then self-destruct.

Ironwood, oh dear god. They couldn't wait to fuck him over. He was so HAPPY to see team RWBYJNROQ. He told them everything about his plan, trusting them with literal GOVERNMENT secrets, giving them a place to stay, FREE weapon upgrades (Atlas is known for its advanced technology), hell even gave them their HUNTRESS LICENSES THREE-ISH YEARS EARLY (which Ruby later uses as a credibility source in her broadcast, which was eerily similar to Cinder's in Volume 3, when she says IRONWOOD CANNOT BE TRUSTED.)

Not to mention that she conveniently forgot she was calling for help from OTHER KINGDOMS. OF COURSE they wouldn't arrive soon enough. And no one had reason to trust her. She's a nobody. She was at the Vytal Festival and her team made it all the way to the singles? Cool. Ruby wasn't the final fighter, hell after the 4 vs 4 match she didn't compete further.

Blake would have obviously been a bad choice: she's a faunus and if anyone knows about the White Fang, they might recognize her.

Yang is more known than Ruby, but the world saw her kick an unarmed teen in the finals round. She doesn't have too good a reputation.

Weiss? She's well known as the Heiress, but also her singing. Having her give the speech is a mixed bag: on one hand, she's a recognizable face. On the other, that's a problem. Her father, the CEO of the SDC, is known for his cruelty. Blake said it herself way back in Volume 1: questionable business practices and partners.

So... How about no broadcast at all? What did her broadcast accomplish?

Nothing. Help didn't arrive and likely caused more panic. Plus, people still had a negative view of Atlas, as the last thing the world saw was Atlesian soldiers turning against civilians.

The last broadcast was before Beacon fell. So likely another hacker giving a message would be met with fear.

And what attracts Grimm? Negativity.

Ruby's broadcast could have been a DEATH SENTENCE to so many. But no, this is treated as the... Right course of action?

Ruby and co. hates Ironwood's plan, yet it's clear they don't have one. RWB spends a lot of time moping around the manor drinking tea. Team YOJR (Yang, Oscar, Jaune and Ren) actually DO SOMETHING. Oscar gets kidnapped and they chase after him. Ren rightfully points out that NONE OF THEM SHOULD BE DOING THIS. But that goes against the Hivemind™, so he must apologize and agree to whatever the fuck Ruby decides to do.

Which is NOTHING! RWBY didn't even take down the hound: WILLOW and WHITLEY did. A drunk woman and an unarmed teen defeated it.

Oscar is the one who blows up the whale (with his time bomb? huh??)

Ruby whines that it's all too much, cries on a staircase while her sister (remember that Ruby and Yang are related????) comforts her. The scene has no emotional depth because the two barely interact anymore.

OH GOD AND WHEN YANG TAKES A HIT FROM NEO THAT WAS MEANT FOR RUBY IT TAKES HER OUT COMPLETELY. AURA? GONE. HELL, SHE'S EVEN UNCONSCIOUS. I swear it's like the animation budget could only afford to have ONE character react, and it's Blake "sad kitty face" Belladonna. Not Ruby, who is her sister. WHO HAS A SPEED SEMBLANCE. But no, they just watch her fall, not knowing if she's alive.

Ruby has more of a reaction to CRESCENT ROSE, HER FUCKING WEAPON falling.

Which is retconned so hard in the Vol 9 trailer, where she tells Neo "I hope it was worth it" before falling into the void. Huh??

Anyways I'm rambling again but I am so angry!

-🎼

Never, ever, EVER apologize for rambling. I LOVE hearing peoples thoughts and sometimes it's a really nice feeling to let out your frustrations and anger towards something that has caused you harm and it really REALLY sounds like this caused you a lot of harm and so I do not blame you one bit for being hurt and angry. I should apologize for this taking so long. This was a lot and I needed to sort my thoughts and even so I probably missed some points so I also apologize for that.

Penny and Ironwoods biggest mistake was trusting and being kind to RWBY. They lied and betrayed James and treated him like garbage even though he showed them nothing but kindness and did whatever he could to help them and listened to them. Penny was told what to do and think far more so then James ever supposedly did. Ruby decided to give her a new body, decided she didn't like how James was treating her and that she thought James was a bad person, and decided that Penny was better off with them. Penny stopped being able to make her own decisions once she started hanging out with RWBY and co.

Really though what did they all think was going to happen when they sent out a message that matched beat to bear a lot of what Cinder said before Atlas fell? Did she think about the panic that would cause? Did she forget she was worried about Ironwood telling everyone back in Volume 7 because of the panic it would cause everyone??? Did that just conveniently slip her mind?

I honestly think Weiss would have been the best choice to give the broadcast of them all but I don't think they should have sent out the broadcast in the first place. It should realistically only cause panic and death but the narrative is gonna yadda yadda right past all of that.

Oh god yea RWBY and co complain and whine and scream that Ironwoods plan is bad whilst offering up no alternatives then just taking his plan and acting like it was theirs the whole time. They even did this in Volume 7 when in episode 2 they where worried about James telling Atlas about Salem and then turning around and acting all happy and shocked when James told everyone near the end of the season as if they wanted him to the whole time and not the other way around.

Man RWBY really did jack shit all volume huh? As you said all the major things side characters did: Fight James TWICE: Winter, Emerald, and JNRO.

Try and rescue Oscar: JRY

Blow up the Whale: Oscar

"Redeem" Hazel and Emerald: Again Oscar

Defeat the hound: Whitley and Willow

Launch the tower: Penny

Help defend Mantel against the swarm of Grimm: FNKI and the soldiers that all died trying to buy Ruby time while she cries in a mansion.

Like what does this girl do to help any of the people SHE trapped???

Oh god Ren, poor Ren, he's finally seeing the light but he can't stray from the Hivemind so he needs to get back in, we can't question the pure and perfect Ruby her plans are always right even if it causes Salem to get two relics and destroys the only kingdom with an army or the technology to restore global communications in the process.

Yea you're right like CRWBY can make excuses all day for why Ruby didn't react to Yang falling and MAYBE I can buy her not using her Semblance because she's in shock but not crying or reacting at ALL to her supposed death?? Why does her weapon get a more emotional response then her SISTER? Why is only BLAKE allowed to be sad about Yang supposedly dying? Why does fucking WINTER have more of a reaction to her sister dying?

Why are all the people we are supposed to be rooting for so fucking unlikeable???

[wave-wannabe]

Changes 7—The Metamorphosis of Two Women

Chapter 7 Changes in outlook on life

Time flies so fast that I will leave Flying Brother and go home soon. On the last night before my departure, Flying Brother and I enjoyed endless entanglement once again. Of course, I used my soft tongue to serve Flying Brother again. For the first time, I swallowed his wonderful semen. We lie in bed, talking about our separation.

During the conversation, I summoned up the courage to say to him, "I heard you talk about Pretender and Wannabe. I've been thinking about it for several days. I found that I like my amputeed body and that you like women whose legs have been amputated. If you can guarantee my future carefree life, I want to be your legless lover.

"I'm surprised by your idea. I like you. I like women whose legs have been amputated. But I'll never dislike you by your right leg haven't been amputated, let alone the idea of having your legs amputated."

"But since my last operation, I feel really wonderful. I think in some cases, disability is not a bad thing, because I really get a lot of fun from amputation. Flying Brother, let me try again. How about amputating my stump first? Of course, you have to guarantee my life first.

"I can assure you that your future life is secure, but we must think carefully about voluntary amputation. You know, if you don't have legs, your life will be a lot of inconvenience, you may lose the ability to walk forever.

"Well, let's all think about it carefully."

The next day I left Z City and returned home. Life is the same as before, but no one can satisfy my desire. When I am alone, if there are customers in the online store, I can also distract myself from doing things, but after all, the online store has more free time, so I can not help but imagine. I often scratch my stump with my fingertips, enjoying the pleasure that ordinary people can not enjoy, thinking about the purpose of life and my desires. I am disabled, I like my disability, but if have more limbs were amputated, it must become more disabled. Maybe I'll become a disabled person who can do nothing. However, the stump really gives me a different feeling, amputation really brings me another kind of happiness. Especially in the days after the operation, the itching feeling on the stump made me feel very comfortable. I think more and more that amputation will make me loses physical limbs and gets spiritual leaps. Balance gains and losses, the soul is more important than physics, I want to amputate again for that kind of alternative enjoyment!

I called Flying Brother, explained my thoughts to him and told him my final decision. Flying Brother was silent for a moment and said to me, "I respect your choice, but I still want to remind you that pleasure may be temporary, while disability is permanent. If you really think about it, I would advise you to amputate your stump and experience it as you said that day.

"Well, that's what I think. Do you remember the last operation? That brought me some pleasure. Especially after seeing Xiao Liu, I even love with the buttock without leg. Of course, I may not feel that way every time. These can only be considered by oneself. Where can find a doctor agree to amputate a healthy limb? If they are there, I really hope to amputate the stump and try it first."

"You don't have to worry about doctors. In this world, as long as you have enough money, there is almost nothing you can't do. In addition, if you amputate again, how do you explain it to your family?

"This is something you need not to worry about, I will prepare slowly. First of all, you know that my husband and I have not interfered in each other's lives. I just need my children to go to college and move to Z city. As for my mother, I just need to tell her that I have found someone who loves me. I want to move to live with him. I will call her several times a year later. She won't ask me about the trifles of my life.

[emophil81]

A gay amputee college story…

New student

I was sitting in the auditorium of my university. It was the first day of the new semester. Nearly everybody was chatting before the beginning of the lecture to bring each other up to date on what happened during the summer break. I wasn’t talking to anyone I just sat there and was typing away at my computer. I was sitting in the front row, my usual place during all lectures I attended. Normally I was alone in that row, because none of the other students wanted to sit there.

Then I saw him for the first time when he entered the auditorium. It was a rather strange sight. He must have been in his late teens or early twenties. He had a stylish haircut, I guessed his hair was dyed black from the looks of it, he had two snakebite piercings in his mouth and he wore a band shirt and a black skinny jeans. But what was really special about this young man was that he had no arms and no left leg.

He was sitting in an electric wheelchair, his right foot was resting on a special foot control which was mounted on the only footrest the wheelchair had. He was barefooted and I spotted that he wore two toe rings and also a wrist (or rather ankle) watch. On the back of his wheelchair mounted on his backrest was a small rainbow flag mounted with the white lettered word „PRIDE“ written over both sides. I was stunned, I was gay but also a devotee, meaning I like guys who miss some of their limbs.

This young triple amputee guy, dressed like a metal band fan- or skaterboy was pushing all my gay buttons at once. I actually got hard right there when I saw him maneuvering his wheelchair to the end of the first row, just a few seats away from me. I was intrigued would he remain in his wheelchair? He stopped his wheelchair a few paces beside the front row. Then he put his right foot in front of his chair and stood up. He made two small hops to balance himself. It was funny how he outstretched his two small armstumps to help him achieve that. It was quite adorable. I noticed, that the left leg of his trouser was just cut off and not sewn shut as a kind of rebel fashion statement I guessed. He looked around. Then he caught my eye and smiled at me.

„Hi, is the seat beside you already taken?“ he asked in my direction looking directly at me. His voice was smooth and had a nice deep timbre. „Ahm…no. It’s not taken, you can sit here if you want.“ I answered a bit nervous. „Thanks. I have just one favor to ask you for. Could you get my laptop out of my bag at the back of my wheelchair please. Normally I can take it out myself, but it takes some time and the lecture is starting shortly. Would you be so kind and help me take it out?“ he just put on the biggest boyish smile I have ever seen on a grown up man’s face. Right there, I fell in love for this cute amputated scene boy.

„Of course, no problem at all.“ I said, stood up and got his laptop out of his wheelchair bag. I put it up on the table in front of the seat right beside mine. „Is that ok so?“ I asked him. „Yes thanks!“ he said and then he started to take small steps into the first row and hopped to the seat beside me. He sat down and then he put his right foot up on the table and opened his Laptop. „I am Brandon by the way, thanks again for helping me.“ he stretched out his foot towards me and I took his right foot in my hand. The sole was only slightly damp his whole foot was rather smooth and soft. I was nearly shaking while I hold his foot. „I am Tom or Tommy, whatever you like.“ I said and shook his foot.

„I changed here over the summer. My parents moved here.“ Brandon explained to me. „Are you from around here Tom?“ „No I am living in the student dormitories. I have a single room, just got it this semester.“ I actually don’t know why I told him, that I had a room for myself. „Cool, so no parents controlling you or siblings to bother you, you are your own master so to speak of.“ Brandon commented with a smile. „Yeah, you could say that.“ The Professor came in and the lecture started.

Brandon followed the lecture quite attentive, like me. He typed on his Laptop pretty fast by using his second toe while the big toe was stretched apart. He was nearly as fast as myself with 10 fingers it was pretty amazing to watch actually. His left leg stump was sometimes twitching and flailing on the seat, I saw that out of the corner of my eye. At the end of the lecture we were given a partner task by our professor. Before I could say something, Brandon told the professor: „Sir, Tommy and I are partnering for that homework assignment.“ He pointed with his foot at me and him in quick succession to emphsize his point. The professor looked at him and just nodded in our direction.

He looked at me, „Awesome, we are going to work together Tommy. Listen, this is my number. I suggest we meet at your dorm after the lunch break. Ok?“ he was speaking so fast I nearly couldn’t keep up with him and his thoughts. In his foot he was holding a piece of paper containing his mobile number. I took it. He seemed so excited about this that I was wondering if he might also had a crush on me. „Oh…ok. So we meet at my dorm. It’s at Dormitory B, Apartment 202. But I don’t know if there is a lift for you.“ I told him. Brandon just smiled. „If not, I am always in need of some training. See you later.“ and with that he hopped back to his wheelchair and left the auditorium in his power chair. Seeing him hopping around was somewhat sexy I thought. His arm stumps and his leg stump were bouncing slightly up and down while he hopped around. I am honest with you, that made me a bit hard.

When I came back to my dorm room, I started to tidy up my room a bit. I wanted to make a good first impression on Brandon when he visited me later today. I looked at my wall, where the huge rainbow flag was hanging. We hadn’t talked about our sexual preferences yet and I hadn’t asked him about his gay pride flag on the backrest of his wheelchair. But if he would see the flag when he came over later it would be pretty obvious that we both play for the same team I thought. I was excited, Brandon would be the first real amputee I would meet who also happens to be my age and who looked pretty hot too. I set up my laptop on my desk, so that we could start right away to do our homework.

I had just finished setting up my laptop and then I walked downstairs into the lobby to wait for Brandon. Because our dorm wasn’t wheelchair accessible I thought I should at least help or rather support him to get up to my room. I had changed into some shiny basketball shorts and a T Shirt with the mascot of my old Highschool printed all over them. I was wearing a pair of white socks and a pair of Adidas slides. I sat down on some of the couches in the lobby and waited for Brandon to arrive.

With me in the lobby were some of the other guys living at the dorm. They were chatting loudly with each other or watched TV on the plasma TV that was mounted on the wall of the lobby. I saw him in his wheelchair driving up to the entrance of the dorm. Someone was just leaving our dorm and hold the entrance door open for him, so that he could enter the lobby with his power chair. Brandon looked around and when he spotted me he smiled.

„Hi Tommy, so good to see you.“ he greeted me by waving with his right foot. „Hi Brandon, good to see you again. Shall we go upstairs?“ „Oh yeah, I would love to see your man cave up there. Nice outfit by the way and cool school mascot. I love tigers. Ours was quite lame, it was a beaver.“ he laughed and pointed to the mascot on my shorts. „Well I never was that much into sports at school, but I liked the style of our mascot. So thanks for the compliment. Your outfit is cool as well, by the way.“ I said. „I try to look as sharp and cool as I can manage. It helps sometimes to break the ice, because it’s not that common to see someone like me, you know, a triple amputee with only one leg left.“ He blushed which I thought was kind of cute. I noticed that some of the other guys were starting to stare at Brandon and some were whispering with each other.

„So shall we go upstairs to my room then and start to work Brandon?“ „Sure thing.“ he said and followed me with his power chair to the staircase. „So no lift just as you told me at our lecture right Tommy?“ „I am afraid so yes, this is not one of the newer and more accessible dorms. Are you okay with going up the stairs on your own?“ Brandon laughed. „You are so sweet to worry about me Tommy. See, I have been like this for nearly 5 years now and I have learned to find my way around. But thanks for being so concerned about me.“

Brandon parked his wheelchair beside the stairs and then he did the same thing as in the auditorium. He stood up and found his balance with two small hops. Then I saw for the first time, that he wasn’t wearing his toe rings and his watch. „Please don’t tell me that your room is at the top floor of the dorm.“ Brandon said and smirked while he hopped to the bottom of the steps. „Oh no, it’s on the second floor. So, no need to worry about much more stairs then one flight of steps, Brandon, that ok?“ I asked him somewhat concerned. „Yeah that’s totally fine.“

I watched him as he leaned with his left side against the wall of the staircase. The side where he was missing his leg. It was really interesting to see how skillfully he steadied himself with his left arm stump against the wall while at the same time he hopped up the stairs one by one. He was quite fast too. „Your good at this“ I said to him from behind. „Thanks, years of practice and some pretty nasty falls too made me quite the pro in going up stairs on one leg.“ he answered. At the top of the stairs he waited for me. He looked so hot standing there on his one bare foot. „My room is the third one on the right to your left actually.“ I said and Brandon started to hop in that direction.

When we came to the door of my room, I opened it with my key and let us in. „Nice, thanks for letting me in.“ „You’re Welcome.“ I took off my slides and walked to my desk chair. „You can sit on the bed if you like, Brandon. I think that’s more comfortable.“ He hopped over to the bed, turned around and sat himself down. He folded his bare foot in front of him. Brandon glanced at my gay pride flag and smiled. „That’s the confirmation then. You are gay like me, aren’t you Tommy?“ „Well guilty as charged your honor.“ I answered shrugging my shoulders and grinned at him. „So shall we start with our homework? We can talk after that and perhaps order something to eat.“ Brandon suggested. „Good Idea, let’s start.“

We were working for two hours straight and finished our tasks in no time. He not only looked adorable, Brandon was also smart as hell I thought. When we finished sending the email to our professor with the task from my laptop, Brandon stretched out his foot and scratched his nose. „Ok so now, ask me.“ he said suddenly. „Excuse me?“ I said. „Tommy, you stared at me right when I came into the auditorium this morning and you watched me nearly the whole time during our lecture. So just ask me how it happened. Ask me how I, Brandon Taylor, lost my arms and my left leg.“ I was stunned. He caught me, but he didn’t seem to be angry at all.

„Well…ahm…what happened?“ I asked him.

„I was stupid. Just stupid. It happened a few years ago I was in highschool and a pretty normal kid, I loved to skateboard. It was a bet I made with some of my Skateboarding friends. In my hometown there is this huge and pretty steep hill. A narrow and curved road is leading up there. I made a bet, that I would beat my friends in going downhill on that road on my board and I would be the first one down at the bottom of the street. We started the race and I was in front. Unfortunately a garbage truck was driving up at the same time we where racing downhill. It hit me and my arms and my left leg got crushed. When I woke up in the hospital I was like this. And I can tell you physical therapy was one hell of a long road to go. But at the end I made it and I can live quite independently now.“ I was shocked. I looked at him and in fact I had to fight with tears. „Oh Brandon. How old were you?“ „I was 17 years old, I am 21 now. But I am used to, well, being me if you like. Oh and before you ask, I was already out to my family and friends as being gay with 15. They all supported me.“ he was sitting there on the bed and looked at his toes, while he used them to play with the duvet. „And I have one last question for you Tommy.“ I was locking eyes with him. „Tommy, are you by any means possible a gay devotee?“

I started to breathe heavily, I was shocked, but like being in trance I answered him, I whispered: „Yes, yes Brandon I am a gay devotee!“ I looked at my socked feet and I started to sob and to cry. „Oh god, I am so embarrassed. Brandon I am so sorry, you must hate me right now. Please…I…I don’t know what to…“ Brandon robbed to the top of the bed by propelling himself with his right foot. „Tommy, shhhh, it’s alright.“ he patted me with his bare foot on the cheek and he lifted my chin up with his toes so that I was looking into his face. „Tommy, look at me. It’s ok, I am ok with devotees, I am not offended that you find my missing limbs attractive. On the contrary, I like the idea, that I have that mesmerizing effect on you.“

„Really, you are not mad at me?“ Brandon shook his head. „Come here.“ Brandon put his foot softly behind my head and pulled me towards him. It was our first kiss. He tasted nice, like a mix of peppermint and lemon. I moaned into the kiss. When we finally broke up our kiss, he smiled. „So, we are finished with homework. We are in your room, no one disturbs us here, which is really awesome by the way, and we are two gay young men who are totally into each other, so come here on your bed and let’s make out Tommy.“

Brandon robbed up against the wall behind my bed by using his foot, he was smiling coyly at me and tapped with his foot beside him on the mattress. I was standing up from my desk chair and walked over to the bed. I climbed up on the mattress and crawled on all fours to him. I snuggled up to him on his right side and started fumbling with my own fingers. Looking down shyly at my own feet. Brandon started to rub his right foot against my left foot. I literally froze, when he touched me there. „Tommy, you have to relax, everything is alright! You are still so tense.“ said Brandon and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, he smiled at me. Why was this guy always smiling at me in this angelic fashion?

„Let’s start to get you undressed then.“ Brandon proposed. I watched him how he used his foot to peel my left sock of my foot. It was so fun to watch his dexterous foot and toes at work. „It’s amazing how adept you are with that foot of yours. It must have been hard to learn to use your foot like a hand, Brandon.“ „Mhm…my first physical therapy trainer really was a bitch! She outright tortured me with all those training sessions, but I am glad she did. In the end, this is all I have left and I can use it as a replacement for my hand today.“ While he talked, Brandon had managed to peel of my second sock also. They were lying crumbled up at my feet. Brandon took one sock in his foot and put it to his nose, he took a deep breath „Tommy I like that your socks are all sweaty and dirty they smell so nice. I want to unpack you, like the present you are to me today Tommy.“

Brandon turned sideways. He leaned back slightly and I watched him as he stuck his foot in the waistband of my shiny shorts. He closed his eyes slightly and looked quite concentrated while he took of my shorts with some effort. I lifted my legs from time to time to assist him, but I wanted him to do it on his own. I didn’t wear any underwear so I blushed when he looked at my half hard penis for the first time after he managed to take off my shorts. „Oh, I like what I see already.“ said Brandon, gave my penis a playful little notch with his toes and I just giggled. He just smiled.

„Can you help me a bit Tommy and lift up your arms? I want to free you of that t shirt.“ „Yes of course.“ I lifted my arms and Brandon took off my t shirt in one go by holding the seam between his toes and then he lifted the t shirt over my arms and my head. I was sitting on my bed stark naked, undressed by the most hot triple amputee I have ever met. He looked at me longingly and bit his lip. „God, you are so gorgeous Tommy.“ I blushed. „I don’t know if I am that gorgeous Brandon.“ „No you are definitely pretty and hot.“ I looked at him and he smiled again. „It’s unfair, you are sitting there fully clothed and I am naked. I would love to unwrap you too.“ „Then come here.“ I kneeled beside Brandon and started carefully to undress him. First I pulled of the black skinny jeans. Brandon was wearing a black boxershorts under his jeans, there was a bulge in it. Then I took off his t Shirt. I first saw his two short armstumps. The left was slightly longer than the right, but both were very short. At the tip there were small scars on both of them.

The surgeons did a good job I thought. I started to take off his boxer shorts. His penis sprang to attention. „Oh there is someone excited.“ I said. Brandon smirked and looked down at his hardon. I started to touch Brandon’s stumps. He closed his eyes and he moaned contently. „Does it still hurt?“ I asked him while I stroked his arm stumps. „No, not anymore, Tommy. Go on, that feels so nice.“ He pulled his right leg up and tried with his toes to grab the duvet to release some of his tension.

„I would like to make you happy Brandon.“ I started to grab his Penis. „Oh God, Tommy, yes, please make me happy!“ I started to rub his penis. Slowly at first and then faster and faster. I was using my other hand to touch his leg stump. It was as if his stumps lead a life of their own. They were twitching and flailing, while I masturbated him, I loved to lock at them. Brandon closed his eyes and bit his lip. I stopped stroking him. He looked anxiously at me. „Is something wrong Tommy?“ I smiled at him. „Are you into ass play?“ Brandon looked me deeply in the eyes and smiled at me. „Oh yes totally.“ Brandon said. I fetched my dildo from my closet and a tube of lube.

I smeared some lube on the dildo and then on the Anus of Brandon also. His small hole puckered in anticipation. „You ready?“ I asked him softly. Brandon nodded and he stretched his leg to his right, so that it wasn’t in my way. He looked so vulnerable in front of me, he shrugged his armstumps. I started to insert the dildo slowly into his hole. He inhaled sharply. But I continued. When the dildo was immersed fully into his hole, I stopped. Then I started to move the dildo in and out. „Oh god, Tommy, that is awesome, please fuck me!“ Brandon shook his head in pure bliss as I fucked him with my dildo.

When I found the ideal speed, to fuck Brandon, I then started to rub his penis again. „Mhmmm, that feels so good. Ahhh Tommy, it is so hot!“ I looked him in the face. I wanted to see Brandon’s cum face. I wanked him faster and faster. Then I felt his dick pulsating in my Hand. I stroked him one last time. „Ohhhh, I am cuuuuuummmmiiiing!“ he screamed. I hold his dick in my hand directing upwards. He shot four huge loads of cum, all over him, then it was oozing out of his piss slit, flowing over my hand.

Brandon huffed and he was shivering from lust, his stumps twitching uncontrollably. I patted him on the chest. „It’s alright. You’re done.“ I smiled and snuggled up to him. „Thanks for this first round Tommy, I think it won’t be the last.“

„No certainly not.“ I said.

[krisiverse]

Hey I’m the anon who sent the amputee fic, first of all thank you for letting me know. I must say I never saw it that way and I’m so sorry about that, that was callous of me and I know better now. I think I still don’t fully understand the severity of it, but I will try to educate myself better about it. The author probably didn’t mean it that way either but ah... it’s not our place. I’m really sorry it caused distress, I just really love angst and I love seeing how characters respond to pressure, so I was blinded. Again, my sincerest apologies. Also sorry to kip for sending it in in the first place.

If I may ask, what are some things to avoid when writing a disabled character? Does this mean we shouldn’t do canon character amputee aus? For future reference. I feel awful, I’d like to avoid making this mistake again.

(Sorry I sent this on kip’s blog but I wanted to make sure it reached you so I sent it here too because I really want to learn, feel free to simply reply there instead)

Hi it’s me again haha, ah forgive my ignorance but allow me to elaborate. From my understanding, the author made him independent, not helpless and didn’t need to be coddled. And I did think there would be a grieving and adjustment period after, realistically.

Throughout, I didn’t pity him at all since he figured out a new way of life. The prosthetic wasn’t perfect, it was heavy so he’d still have to work with that... I’m sure my ignorance is obscuring my view but I just wanted to let you know this is how I saw it...;;v;; but please do enlighten me on how this could’ve been done better.;;v;;

hi okay! so first things first for anyone else reading this, here is the fic i was uncomfortable about, and here is the ask i sent to kip @botwstoriesandsuch regarding it

second, i wanna say thank you for asking and trying to learn better and be respectful! and before i get into the problems i saw with the fic itself I'll say though i am disabled, i'm not an amputee and i'm definitely not a final authority of any sort, nor am i trying to call anyone out. i'm just trying to say what i personally felt was iffy about it.

you can write fics involving disability but it's important to do it respectfully, which imo the OP of the fic did not. and like you said it isn't because of any sort of malice on their part, they just didn't know any better, which is understandable! when i was first reading it i couldn't really tell what about it made me uncomfortable either, it was only after spending some time thinking about it that i figured out what exactly it was.

but okay let's get into this! essentially my problem with the fic is the way it frames disability as this enormous tragedy you can never fully recover from, which is just simply not true? obviously there will be an adjustment period, but it's just that: a period of time you take to adjust and adapt to your new circumstances. having revali do nothing but sit around and feel bad about himself for YEARS until getting his prosthetic is... unrealistic, not true to his character, and frankly insulting. I find it really difficult to believe that revali, who was constantly pushing himself to perfect his Gale despite failing repeatedly and having feathers torn out of his body by using it, would just... give up? not try to learn to use a bow by using a foot instead of an arm (which i know people can do irl, and it would be easier with rito's more prehensile feet) and he wouldn't try to learn to use a one-handed throwing weapon as a replacement, a spear, a boomerang, throwing knives, ANYTHING?

not to mention the end of the fic, where he's surprised by a prosthetic he'd stated he didn't want, by his abled friends because Clearly They Know Better :). like... he should have had a say in it. he deserves a say in it, he shouldn't be pressured by these people who are "helping" him, like i KNOW he was doing badly before that but goddamn all that's going to do is add more trust issues. and then all the struggle and difficulties of HAVING a prosthetic are just glossed over, like it just fixes everything? i mean... he says it's heavy, but it's framed as more of a complaint than an actual ISSUE, you know? he doesn't even have trouble flying, which he SHOULD considering he's off balance and hasn't been able to fly in years and i just. gah. for a fic that's about revali it sure doesn't focus much on what he's going through apart from the way it affects OTHERS, which is a recurring issue with disabilities both mental and physical, and it's basically just "revali is mean and sad and then he gets a prosthetic and it's all better :)" which is NOT HOW IT WORKS!! it's not how it works.

and there's a bunch of stuff in the writing about revali not being helpless and not wanting people to pity him but the structure of the fic and the things they show... just doesn't support that? i mean the number one thing disabled people do is adapt, because we can and we HAVE to, and you're gonna tell me that the great warrior revali can't use a spoon one-handed. and he's going to spend years just wallowing in his depression. ok.

but yeah uhh i hope that clears up the gripes i had about it!! to be clear i'm not mad at you or the author i'm just... kinda tired bc i see this So Much. disabled people aren't useless, or tragic, we just... exist. and obviously there are things we can't do, and we need help sometimes, but we DON'T need abled people to swoop in and "save" us oh my god.

anyway you asked for tips on how to write disabled characters, and i don't know if i have any general tips offhand but i do have a couple things that this particular fic could have done better? specifically revali ought to have had more agency, again i can't stress enough how Bad the trope of "fixing" things for a disabled person is, not to mention the fact that he... can still... do things? tbh i feel like it'd fit him more to, at the start, very aggressively try to find Things He Can Still Do and throw himself into them as hard as he can, so hard he gets hurt in the process. he'd still refuse pity (and any help at all, at first) but he can slowly come to learn that accepting help when you need to isn't a weakness, it's a strength, and no one sees him as less capable now (and if they did, the other champions would have Words for him.) The journey should be around him learning to accept his disability as a part of him, and learning to accept help from others, and IF a prosthetic came into the picture it should be by his choice and his choice alone.

but yeah! thank you for reading this to anyone who got this far, and i would really like to hear other opinions about it

[highfunctioningflailgirl]

My reaction to the “Troubled Blood” reading sample

I wrote my reactions to chapters 1 through 7 down while I was reading and added a few thoughts after finishing.

🚨SPOILER ALERT!!!! Read at your own risk! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!🚨

(continued under the cut)

Chapter 1

Aaaand we’re in Cornwall. We knew this was going to happen, but we’re plunged straight into a situation here, which is...

Aunt Joan! Oh no. Nonono… 😟 Did NOT see that coming. It means she is not going to be around for Cormoran and Robin to get together (or marry?), and that makes me sad. 😔

Cornish terms. Cornish names. I need to do some googling. I like a bit of local patriotism, although Dave is a bit too hostile for my taste.

I wanted to like Dave but now I want to slap him for his marriage attitude.

The one redeeming factor is how he “adopted” Cormoran at school. 

So Cormoran doesn’t have a Cornish accent. Interesting. I love listening to the Cormoran Strike audiobooks, and Glenister always gives him a heavy West Country tint. Apparently, he should sound more London. (But I do love his Cornish burr)

Ted and Joan are Strellacott shippers! Like all of us. 🥰

Chapter 2

Family time. Jack! I love seeing Cormoran with his family, even if there is a LOT of friction. And even though we’re not going to see Jack in the TV series, it appears. 

So nephew no 2 has a name: Luke. And he is an arsehole. (He really is, and I am allowed to say that, I have kids myself, and they would never run off with an amputee’s leg or be gleeful about their mishap. It’s mean, period.

But of course saying that out loud to Lucy, the mother, wasn’t the best idea. 🤣

Joan. I hadn’t expected her false optimism and pushing her opinions of what everyone (and Corm in particular) should be thinking or doing. I guess I’ve always coloured her too kind and sweet in my head. People are more complicated than that, I guess.

Strike misses Robin’s voice when he’s alone. Awww 🥰

Saul Morris, the new subcontractor. So he’s the one who gives Robin unwanted attention. Screw his black Irishman looks. WE DON’T LIKE YOU.

Anna and Kim, a married couple. Is this JK trying to prove to us how open-minded she is to queerness? (She’s not. But that’s a different discussion)

Anna saw a medium - is this where the weird stuff begins that the tarot cards alluded to?

A serial killer who beheaded his victims. *shudders* 

Chapter 3

Robin and Matt will have to go through a two year separation to divorce. Two years! Strike’s not going to make a move on her until that’s over.

12 months?! It’s been a YEAR since LW?!

Matt is an asshole. We knew that. Just mentioning it again. 😡

Pat Chauncey, the new office manager - I think I may like her. Not the smoking so much, but she seems to be good at her job, and I kinda like that she isn’t impressed the least by Cormoran and calls him out on his grumpiness. I think he needs that sometimes. We’ll see.

Saul Morris. Eww

Charlotte! She has something he wants? What on earth could that be? 

Ilsa is a huge Strellacott shipper. JK must have been reading @lulacat3​‘s fanfic. And several others.

So Charlotte attempted suicide. Twice. And one wasn’t serious, only to manipulate Strike? I never really liked how JKR mixed mental illness with intentional behaviour in the Strike books. It’s dangerous territory and inadequate representation. Not comfortable with that.

Woo-hoo, Robin is coming down to Cornwall! 🤗

Chapter 4

A grumpy Cormoran in t-shirt and boxers. Yum.

Lil’ Corm crying because he couldn’t go and explore caves with Dave broke my heart. And that he only cried twice in his life. (When was the second time?) 😢

Lucy “Leda wasn’t my mother” Ouch. But I understand why. And, of course, Cormoran bristles, always having been #TeamLeda. Although what we’re reading here doesn’t really make me like her better. Maybe someone should have called child services. 

Lucy is too abrasive in her reproachfulness. But when she says that Cormoran is good in a crisis, but has trouble with longterm commitment, she hits a sore spot.

So Cormoran was “both battleground and prize” between Leda and Joan? It’s a good analogy.

Nephew 3 is called Adam, and he’s whiny. 

I don’t think Strike will ever want to have kids, and after the week he’s had, who can blame him?

Chapter 5

I love that Robin knows how to read Corm, knows when his leg is hurting him. She has so much empathy.

Oohh... Friction between them, and it’s only due to Robin’s understanding that it doesn’t escalate. 

And of course the idiot suffers in silence rather than just asking for a Paracetamol. *exasperated eyeroll*

Did I mention that he’s an idiot?🙄

Chapter 6

 Cagney & Lacey, lol! And look at that: Strike is a cat person! (I had to think of @lulacat3‘s fics immediately)

Just a thought: Did Roy kill Margot? It would be too obvious though

That sounds like an interesting case and like a very dysfunctional family

Chapter 7

There’s an interesting parallel between Robin and Strike: While everyone tries to force them into doing something they believe is best for them, pulling and pushing and badgering, Strike and Robin, amongst each other, NEVER do that. They let each other be who they are, not attempting to get the other to change. And that’s why they get along so great.

Love the nick names for their clients.

“You can’t count a croissant. Mostly air!” 😄

Strike shares private stuff with Robin, without even being asked. That’s new! I like this camaraderie and easy friendship between them. They’ve grown closer. So much trust between them now. 

Strike, who hasn’t been able to relax on anyone’s passenger seat since Afghanistan, sleeps while Robin’s at the wheel. That’s complete trust. 

The get a whole YEAR to investigate? That’s... expensive, but Anna and Kim apear to be wealthy. And could it be this book takes us through a whole year of investigating?

I love road trips in the Landrover. So looking forward to seeing this on screen.

[atc74]

Heartbeat - Chapter Five (FIN)

Warnings: Use of spells, summoning Death, going up against the bigbad, Chuck, mentions of loss, TW: major character death, Dean’s guilt, Dean’s grieving.

Summary: Sam, Dean, and Y/N are sheltering in place at the Bunker, researching this new virus that has created a world pandemic. But what happens when one of your own is immune compromised?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 945

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches​ because she’s the best

A/N: I’M BAAAAACCKKKK, well, mostly :) I know I’m not the only one struggling with life right now, and writing has been hard. Thank you all for sticking it out until I was able to get something together for you guys. This is only temporary and will pass. Keep your chin up and try on your jeans every few days.

Here it is, the last chapter of Heartbeat. Catch up now...

Heartbeat Masterlist

Like Dean’s scent? Buy it here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Previously

Dean woke with a start, sweating and breathing heavily as the dream flashed in his head. He tossed the covers from his body and stumbled down the hall. “Sam!” He didn’t bother knocking, but burst through his brother's door without warning. “Sammy, I know how to stop Chuck!”

Now...

They stood in the library, spell ingredients spread out over the table. “We’re sure about this?” Sam asked his brother before lighting the match. 

“What other choice do we have, Sam? Let’s do this,” Dean nodded his agreement and Sam lit the match. In a puff of smoke, the atmosphere in the room changed, which Dean found often happens when you summon a powerful being. 

“What mess did you boys get yourselves into now?” Billie chuckled, taking a seat at the end of the table. 

“Billie, listen, this is probably going to sound crazy, but we think you can -” Dean started.

“Kill God?” Billie interjected, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. 

“Well, yeah,” Sam agreed. 

“I gotta hand it to you, Dean, Sam. You boys are smarter than anyone expected.” 

“Thank you,” Dean blushed slightly under her backhanded praise. 

“Dean, you’ve been in my library. What is happening out there,” she stressed, “is not the natural order of things. These deaths are not in my books. Y/N’s story ended years before her time. Decades even.” 

“Then help us,” Dean pleaded with her. “Please.” 

“Let’s hear your plan.” 

~*~

“You know I have the power. Look how pathetic you are...shaking with fear,” Billie taunted Chuck. 

“You don’t have the balls,” Chuck spat. 

“My vessel doesn’t have those appendages, no. But, what I do have is greater than anything you ever could have dreamt up on your own. I am more powerful than you and your sister, and you know it,” Billie continued. “Now, undo this mess you have created or I will end you myself. And, your sister, too.” 

Chuck shook under the Angel of Death’s glare, but he pushed her further, despite his fear. “You wouldn’t.” 

“You really want to test me?” her voice boomed out over the clearing. Billie snapped her fingers and Amara appeared next to her. She grabbed her by the collar, and to demonstrate her point, slid the scythe against the soft flesh of her neck. 

“Okay, fine!” Chuck snapped his fingers. “You get your way, you heinous bitch! Now let me go!” 

“In due time.” Billie turned to Sam. “Can you confirm this?” 

Sam placed a call to the CDC and two major hospitals. He looked at Dean, then Billie with a look of disbelief on his face. “It worked.” 

Billie turned her attention back to Chuck, Amara now chained by his side. “Termites.” She brought her scythe up and with a mighty blow, watched their heads roll. 

“So, that’s it?” Dean asked, both confused and impressed. 

“With both of them gone to the empty, the balance of good and evil remains. Now, I have some wrongs to right. I hope I don’t see you again,” Billie grinned and disappeared. 

“Let’s go home, Sammy.” 

~*~

Days turned into weeks and still the number of reported cases of COVID-19 continued to drop until they were practically nil. Sam and Dean were in awe of Billie’s power, but grateful to have her on their side. The stay at home mandates had been lifted, and the world was returning to normal. Sam had made the necessary calls now that it was time. 

“How you holding up?” Sam asked his brother as they arranged the wood for Y/N’s funeral pyre. 

“I’ll be honest with you, Sam. Not great. But, she keeps haunting my dreams, and she’s pissed I haven’t done this for her yet, so, while I don’t want to, I know it’s time,” Dean admitted. “I’m heading in. I need some time.”

“Of course.” Sam tended to the pyre and welcomed Y/N’s dad, Donna, Jody, and all the other hunters that came to pay their respects. Everyone asked after Dean, but no one questioned where he was. 

~*~

“Hey, honey. People are here to see you. I can hear them. I know I promised you I’d be strong, but I don’t know if I can keep that promise. It’s kinda like losing you twice, ya know? I really don’t want to do this, Y/N. I’m sorry,” Dean sobbed, his head laying next to hers on the cold steel tray. 

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he knew he must have fallen asleep, because of the strange dream he had. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have dreamt of her, good or bad but this was different. She was by his side, watching the sunset, just like they used to, their respective rings beating strong. He swore he could still feel it. 

He kissed the top of her head before pushing the tray back in and latching the door. He still heard voices, so he skipped the library in favor of a couple cold beers from the kitchen. Popping the top on the first one, he could still feel it. Like a phantom pain that amputees experience. He knew it was his mind playing tricks on him and maybe he should just take it off, so it wasn’t yet another constant reminder, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Dean stared at the ring, at the simple engraving and there it was, steady as his own. “Sam!” 

Several hunters came running, hot on Sam’s heels. “Dean, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. I-it’s beating. It’s beating!” Dean took off down the hall at a full on sprint. He rounded the corner to the infirmary, jumping down the steps and stopped, facing the cold storage. He took a deep breath and pulled the door open, sliding the tray out. He glanced up at the rail, seeing his brother and Jody. Dean gingerly pulled the sheet back. 

“It’s about fucking time! What took you so long, Winchester? By the way, Billie says ‘hey’.”

I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this series, but this ending...I kinda love it? Did you? The nicest thing you can do is reblog and tell me, and others, how much you liked it. 

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean​​​​ @dolphincliffs​​​​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​​​​ @meganwinchester1999​​​ @cherrycokegirls1​​​​ @closetspngirl​​​​  @roxyspearing​​​​ @flamencodiva​​​​ @blacktithe7​​​​ @sis-tafics​​​​ @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten​​​​ @amanda-teaches​​​​ @hannahindie​​​​ @wotinspntarnation​​​​ @winchesterprincessbride​​​​ @winecatsandpizza​​​​ @kickingitwithkirk​​​​  @wi-deangirl77​​​​ @hobby27​​​​ @mogaruke​​​​ @gh0stgurl​​​​ @alleiradayne​​​​ @idreamofplaid​​​​ @seenashwrite​​​​ @manawhaat​​​​ @crashdevlin​​​​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​​​​ @emoryhemsworth​​​​

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​​​​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​​​​ @maddiepants​​​  @adoptdontshoppets​​​ @supernatural-jackles​​​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​​​ @akshi8278​​​​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​​​​

Heartbeat: @idksupernatural​​​ @imaginationisgrowth​​​ @gabrielslittleangel​​​ @samsgirl93​

[tanadrin]

"Survey Anon's Gender Blog" has a post showing evidence of autoandrophilia in trans men. Also some furries seem to be in love with their fursonas and amputee fetishists are sometimes in love with disabled versions of themself. And I for one am definitely attracted to myself as a woman, although actually doing much about it beyond private crossdressing wouldn't be worth the inconvenience for me.

OK but do these usages of “I am attracted to myself as X” distinguish sufficiently from “in my fantasies I am X”, which is definitely a univeral human experience both in an erotic and nonerotic context and doesn’t require postulating weird reflexive erotic target location errors? “I have my ideal body type in my fantasies, and this makes my fantasies more exciting” is an unremarkable statement; “I have something with the dynamics of an interpersonal sexual attraction whose target is, not another person (real or imagined), but myself” smacks of an obscurantist rephrasing of the former, but even if it isn’t (and I say this having waded through a lot of the supposedly strongest defenses of AGP) also might be just conceptually incoherent.

I know there are self-identified autogynephiles out there (and maybe autoandrophiles too), and  the world is wide and full of complex people so it’s not beyond comprehension that there are some people who find the language of Blanchardianism conducive to some kind of useful self-understanding. And I would feel bad saying to people “no, your self-understanding is wrong, you must abandon it.” But AGP-the-clinical-construc-as-constructed-by-Blanchard-and-company (as opposed to any individual self-understanding through an AGP-type approach) not only obliterates a huge chunk of transgender experiences but forces the rest of it into a rigid binary. The huge variety of individual experience and the diverse phenomenology of transness as experienced by trans people all over the world can provide endless counterexamples to what is, as a totalizing theory of transness, a deeply insufficient account put advocating in weirdly aggressive ways. That is–although I remain deeply unconvinced that the terminology cuts reality at the joints–let us provisionally grant that th term “auto-X-philic” is somehow useful; even in thsoe circumstances, AGP-the-capital-t-Theory is not the same as noticing there is, in one corner of the large, multidimensional spectrum of trans experience, a set of people who identify may their attraction as “autogyno/androphilic.”

In other words, the motte (that there is a powerful component of sexual expression in some trans people’s experience of gender… which, if you replace “trans” with “cis” there is a contender for the “most obvious statement of the year, even though it’s only march” award, but anyway) in no way justifies the Bailey.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

1.☕what is your opinion on transgenderism? I have a bisexual friend and another pansexual friend, they can't come out to public so they've only come out to some people who they trust, including me (i'm straight). So this one time we all sat down with couple other people in which, one is a big gay shipper fan, and two others who are homophobes (they don't know about my other friends being bi and pan).

2.☕It all started with us discussing about trangenders and they all shared their opinions about how they think it's not right and that it means they don't accept themselves at all etc. I personally have no opinion about trans people, i believe everybody must do whatever satisfies them. Most girls are fond of makeup because it makes us feel beautiful and better about ourselves, so transgenders are doing the same as well.3.☕The topic later drifted to gays and lesbians. That is when it triggered me the most because those same "friends" of mine who always showed their pride of being lgbt to me and our other friends, were being complete hypocrite infront of those homophobes. They were expressing all kinds of hate about gay people, including the girl who ships gay people all the time. I thought they were just saying it 'cause the homophobes were with us but they said they actually meant it when i asked them later.4. ☕Like how tf are you even a part of such a thing when you hate on it ? I don't know whom to trust anymore tbh 'cause even if i'm not lgbt, i don't just go around hating on it. *sigh* oh well now that was a big one ☕ i'm sorry tho 😂 This is a long one so I’ll answer it under the cut

First off, as regards to your friends that is very strange. I’d understand if they had unresolved issues about their sexuality but you said they’re proud of being lgbt so I don’t get it. But I guess many people are contradictory and they may have conflicting feelings about it like women being misogynistic. However it’s disgusting to engage in any type of hate speech for whatever reason (other than to cover for yourself if you’re in a dangerous situation). As for my opinion of transexuality. I honestly still haven’t come to a conclusion yet and I probably won’t for some time. Half of me supports them and half of me doesn’t so here are some of the thoughts that run through my head1. where is the line between gender as a social construct and gender as a biological thing. You mentioned makeup but makeup being a girl thing is totally a social construct, so are dresses, the color pink, having long hair, etc. There is nothing inherently feminine or masculine about these stuff so is a male who likes to “be” feminine a girl in a boy’s body or just a boy who likes feminine things? where is the line that after it you’re considered transgender? Is it just the “feeling” of being a girl? but what does that mean really? 2. is it a mental disorder? I know some people stopped reading already but for those who continue please hear me out. I know how much the lgbt community loathes being made to have a mental disorder and I understand that. This is a mixed point. On the one hand I know that people who are attracted to the same sex like myself were (and are) called mentally ill and unnatural like transgender people are but for me transgenderism (is that a word?) is closer to body dysmorphia than homosexuality. There are people in this world who want to cut off their arm bec they feel like they’re amputee and they can’t stand having this arm. Do we as doctors just go ahead and chop off their arm for them? No we treat their mental illness. So if you say that you’re actually a girl and you want us to chop off your penis don’t we have to think about it first? As a doctor this dilemma really bothers me bec here I am chopping off a perfectly healthy and functional body part and permanently mutilating a person’s body based on their psychological state. Isn’t this against our oaths? 3. Hormones ESPECIALLY for young kids. It boggles my mind that some parents actually give their kids puberty blockers and stuff like that KIDS hormones aren’t a harmless thing not only physically but also mentally. As you can see my main issue with transgenderism is the medical interventions sometimes employed for them. I think we as the medical community need to do much more extensive research into the matter before we start hacking up people or giving them dangerous drugs4. ok so what about transgender people who don’t transition, Again I think we need to look into why they don’t feel like they’re their biological sex and what really is gender and see if we can reconcile this5. intersex people and 3rd genders in certain cultures also make me lean towards transgenderism/transsexuality being a normal thing. I need to read more about them. I’m a very scientific person so for me the most important thing is to do research to get to the bottom of this and find out where the issue lies and if transitioning improves the person’s mental health long term or if it doesn’t have an effect/makes it worse. Honestly I’m willing to accept the results either way bec even tho my points make it seem like I’m very anti-trans, I’m really just conflicted bec of my job. I want to help people not cause them more harm.