#warnings: sexism

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[kflixnet]

[read warnings thouroughly] Check out our member Cath's fic!

So Many Signs (Taehyung x OC)

Summary: Dilara tries to ignore the obvious, while Taehyung finally loses his cool.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 13 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, sexism, mention of assault, infidelity, longing, heartbreak

A/N: I didn’t think I’d be posting this so soon but I do want to reach a certain point in their story before I continue posting for other members. This one’s long, but I hope you like it! It takes place about a week after Chingu.

This is also a submission for the 2023 K-Pop Fanfic Bingo Event “The Sound of Music”, using the square with one of my favourite childhood songs, Moon Glow by Benny Goodman.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @dreaming-with-happiness @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: “moon glow” by benny goodman

It’s close to the end of the calendar once the Portuguese GP rolls around. It seems to have awoken both PR teams as well, for the schedule suddenly tightens up and two photoshoots, one advertisement and a Run episode filming are all squeezed into a single week.

The first of the photoshoots takes place in a nice, leafy garden in the outskirts of Portimao, rented for the entire day for the shoot. For once, the participants from the F1 side of things nearly match the BTS members in number, with not just the Red Bull drivers there, but also the AlphaTauri ones, along with Max’s girlfriend Kelly accompanying them.

Maybe it’s the peace of the outdoors; maybe it’s the fact that on the plane ride over, Dilara had a front row seat to the view of Taehyung sleeping as he hugged a pillow. Either way, for the first time in forever, Dilara realises she isn’t counting down the minutes until the shoot is over.

The next day, the Thursday before the race weekend, the same day BTS is meant to join as well, she goes for an early morning run at the paddock before her own team PR begins for the day. A Run episode is meant to be filmed on the circuit and wrap up before the other drivers arrive, and Dilara watches as the crew sets up at top speed, even before the members arrive.

After her run, she’s getting a glass of water in the Red Bull enclosure when she feels someone come up behind her. When she turns, she almost spills the water on herself when she sees maybe three inches of distance between her and Jaden Park.

“Shit!” she mutters, taking a step back right into the water cooler. Jaden grabs her arm to steady her and, when she tries to take it back, doesn’t let go for a moment. Dilara’s heart skips a beat but then he drops her arm and sort of forces a smile onto his face.

It does nothing to comfort her, and she suddenly wishes more than ever that Chris or Fred were here. “Hi - hi… Jaden,” she stammers, taking a deep breath to slow her heart.

“Hey.” Jaden shoves his hands into his pockets. “I, um… I saw you last night.”

“Excuse me?”

“At Albert’s Bar?” He nods, assuming her acknowledgment. “You were with BTS, right?”

Fuck. Aside from the fact that she had stepped out for drinks with her housemates the previous night that now seems to have been seen by people, she thinks she can predict what Jaden’s line of thinking is with this. 

“Um… yeah, Max and all of us did a photoshoot with them yesterday, so we went out for a drink after,” she tells him, pleasantly surprised at how normal she sounds.

“That’s nice. Feel up to going again?” He cocks one eyebrow and gives her a small smile.

Unsurprised and unimpressed, she exhales. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jaden,” she says firmly, not in the mood to try and let him down easy. She moves to walk past him but he blocks her way. Heart hammering, she looks up at him, slightly incredulous. “What are you doing?”

“So you can have a drink with seven guys but not one with me?” he asks, that strange frown still on his face.

Dilara scoffs. “I wasn’t having a drink with seven guys, I went out for drinks with a few colleagues,” she clarifies through gritted teeth, part of her wondering why she’s even giving this guy an explanation. “It wasn’t a date.”

“You really made up your mind about me after one date?” he demands, frowning. “It's… I mean, you're free to reject me if you don't like me but…" He shrugs, "... this just seems unfair."

She raises her eyebrows. "Listen, Jaden," she continues quickly, now reaching the end of her fuse, "I told you, alright? It's nothing to do with you. I'm just not dating. And I'd really appreciate it if we didn't have this conversation again." She moves to walk away again and, yet again, he steps in front of her. 

"Then what is it? The least you can do is give me an explanation, Dilara." He's dropped all pretense of politeness, practically glaring at her now.

She stares at him, contemplating. There's a hundred things she can rip into this guy regarding his behaviour, but she knows there's only one thing that will work with a guy like him - she hopes. 

"Look, I…" Dilara exhales, heavily resenting that she has to do this, "when you asked me out, I'd just got out of a relationship, okay? It was complicated and - and I was still working my way through it. There’s - there’s another guy," she clarifies, disgusted yet unsurprised at the sudden understanding on his face. 

"So… I was, what? A rebound?"

"No," she says immediately, sensing a bruised ego. "I didn't realise I was still… not over it until we went out. And I didn't want to lead you on any further," she explains, suddenly realising she’s not totally lying.

"Right." Jaden nods, jaw clenched. "And, uh… this guy. Your ex. Is he here? Is he in F1?"

It's a complicated answer, but Dilara is out of patience with him. "I don't think that's important," she says hastily, wanting to shut down whatever man-to-man ape nonsense is going on in his head at the earliest. "And, uh… yeah. So I think we can just put this behind us now? And be colleagues? Great," she says in one quick breath, and without waiting for him to respond, she sidles away, letting out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

It rankles Dilara all day, how entitled some men are and how only the mention of another man can get them to back down. She takes it out on all the men around her, refusing to pass Max a bottle of water when he asks, and later in the afternoon, sniping at a reporter for asking her how she manages her personal life. She knows she’s not a good person to be around right now so when she goes back to the house, she heads straight away to the home gym to work out some of her frustrations before she snaps at someone else.

It works; she over indexes on the weights and barbells, working up a good sweat. She loses track of time, too; when she glances out of the window towards the end of her session, the sky is a dark indigo, almost black, and she feels a light and cool breeze blowing in, feeling incredible against her damp skin.

She runs into Jimin as she’s leaving, who offers her a can of beer and a smile.

“It’s a race weekend,” she says in explanation, her hands still in her pockets.

“You drank last night,” he points out. 

“Exactly. I think I maxed out my quota of booze for the week. Especially booze with this many calories,” she adds, tapping the can and moving to walk past him.

“No worries,” he says easily, falling into step beside her. The walk to the house is a few minutes away; Jimin manages to keep the silence going for about half a minute before speaking again.

“I don’t mean to… what’s the word? Pry?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I don’t mean to pry, but… you and Taehyung seemed to be getting along well yesterday.” 

Dilara looks up after a moment, surprised to see how hopeful his smile is. “Was that a question?” she asks after a moment.

“Um…” He looks mildly confused for a second. “Not really. It was nice, that’s all.”

She nods, not knowing what else to say. The last thing she wants is to mislead anyone - especially when she has no idea what she wants herself.

“Does that mean you’re…” Jimin trails off but when Dilara doesn’t respond, he sighs uncomfortably. “Do you think you might… I mean, will you two be okay?”

Deliberately not looking up at him, she responds carefully. “What does okay mean?”

“Just…” The leaves under their feet crunch in the silence. “Will you go back to normal?”

They’ve almost reached the house. She stops in her tracks a few feet away from the porch. “And by normal you mean… before we broke up?”

Jimin doesn’t say anything for a moment, and it’s apparent he’s already regretting bringing it up. “Maybe? It’s just… I mean, what more needs to happen? He can’t take it back, you know… what he did.”

“I do know,” she says forcefully. “And, yeah, a lot more needs to happen. Starting with him having this conversation himself,” she mutters, starting to walk away when he pulls her back. Startled at the second time today, she jerks back.

“S-sorry. Just… God, please don’t tell him about this,” he begs, eyes wide. “He’ll kill me.”

“Then why are you? Is he that miserable to be around?”

“Oh, yeah.” A brief smile flashes across his face before it fades. “But it’s not just him, okay? When I said it was nice seeing you together yesterday… I mean it was nice to see you like that, too.” His gaze falls slightly. “I think we’re friends, too, right?”

Dilara frowns, for she hasn’t the faintest where this conversation is going. “I - sure. But if you’re asking me if us having a conversation yesterday without breaking down means we’re going to get back together… then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Jimin sighs and nods. “I know it doesn’t. But… I don’t know, are you waiting for something?”

There’s something about that question that makes her bristle. “Waiting for something? Like I’m just sitting here, waiting for him to prove himself and pass some test so I can take him back? Do you think I’m having fun or something?”

“That’s not what I -”

“Because the answer is no, Jimin. No, I am not waiting for anything. I waited enough, alright?” she reminds him. “I waited a long time for him to say something before I blocked him and made sure he never could. All I’m doing right now is just… I’m just trying to not be so angry anymore. Because it’s not helping anyone.”

She starts walking backwards towards the house as Jimin processes this response, hoping he gets it. Just as she’s about to turn, he looks up.

“I’m sorry, Dilara. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

“I’m not angry. That’s my whole point.”

He raises his eyebrows but thankfully lets it go. “Fine. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business.”

Dilara nods. “I’m not waiting for anything,” she repeats after a moment, a little calmer. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not… hoping for something.”

Jimin frowns. “Like what?”

She bites her lip before sighing. “Like - like a sign. Maybe. This is not an easy decision - not least because I don’t even know what he wants. It’s -” But she’s interrupted by his scoff.

“Come on, I’m sure even Max Verstappen knows what Taehyung wants,” he tells her, laughing softly.

Dilara narrows her eyes. “I wouldn’t take his word about this. He’s too complicated for me to guess.”

“Max?”

“No, T- you’re… V,” she stutters, rolling her eyes at the blatant slip. “He can’t just waltz back into my life because a PR plan forced me to let him back in.” She starts walking backwards again, careful not to miss the steps on the porch. “That’s what’s always happened. He’s just had to sit back and everything has fallen into place for him. I need an indication, at least, that it’s different this time. I don’t know what that is, I don’t know what it’ll look like… but I need -”

“A sign.” Jimin nods, looking at least somewhat as though he understands what she means. “I get it.”

“Good.” Hoping the conversation ends here, she turns on the spot and opens the door, almost getting a heart attack when she sees Taehyung standing there and pulling on a jacket.

“What - How did you -”

“Gwaenchanha?”

It takes her a moment to be able to answer as she catches her breath. “No, not really,” she gasps, wondering if all the men on the planet have planned to constantly startle her wherever she is. “I - were you standing here this whole time?”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows. A lock of blond hair falls elegantly onto his forehead, the rest of his face absolutely still. “What do you mean?”

Dilara stares at him, suddenly mortified at the thought of him overhearing her talk to Jimin about this, or worse, her need for a sign. “I mean… you know what I mean,” she finishes lamely.

“Not really.” He glances at Jimin behind her and nods in acknowledgment before turning back to her. “The team wants to take a couple of extra shots at night, so I’m heading there with Jungkook. You want to come?”

He asks so casually, as though he’s asking her if she wants to go to the grocery store with him, that her heart flutters unexpectedly. “I - your staff won’t like that,” is her first response, before she cringes inwardly. “And also… no. No… thank you.”

Taehyung nods, looking as though he expected it. “No problem. I’ll see you later.”

Dilara watches him leave in silence, his gait cool and smooth as he passes by Jimin, murmuring something in Korean before heading out. She tries to count herself lucky; it doesn’t seem as though he’d overhead her - but if he has, she may as well just begin avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of her life. 

Jimin, apparently waiting for Taehyung to be fully out of earshot this time, grins at her. “That kind of sign?”

“No,” she says immediately, entering the house. “Never that kind of sign.”

“Are you sure?” he presses, following her into the house and shutting the door behind him. “It’s him - he’s the sign,” he explains dramatically.

Dilara gives him a pointed look, stopping at the door to her bedroom. “Never that kind of sign.”

—

The next day when Dilara sees BTS in the paddock, her gaze goes straight to Taehyung and Jimin. They're walking next to each other, albeit talking to members on their other sides. She tries to look elsewhere; it's officially race weekend again and she can't afford to be distracted. It's hard, though, because her situation with Taehyung is complicated enough; the last thing she wants is for a private conversation to have been overheard by him, however accidental it may have been.

So Dilara avoids them all day, all of them. She tries not to make it obvious because she’s glad that they’re all finally getting back on decent terms, so she opts to spend time in the garage with the rest of the team, going over free practice times and tyre strategies for Qualifying tomorrow. Even when Jaden Park, who's supposed to be in Max's garage and not hers, accidentally-on-purpose bumps into her and she notices Seokjin looking at them and frowning, she keeps her goal in mind and handles it herself.

It’s a success, for the most part. Her car feels fantastic and the paddock generally seems more lively this weekend for some reason; she doesn’t know if it has to do with the nice weather or the fact that Portimao is generally an exciting race every year. Either way, it’s good for her because in her effort to avoid BTS and give them their space, she ends up spending time with all the other drivers.

Later in the evening, when the paddock is emptying out, Dilara is on her way to the Red Bull conference room for a team briefing when she gets a notification from Jimin. Heart hammering slightly, she swipes it open.

Jimin [19:52] Dilara. Please stop avoiding him because of me.

Dilara [19:53] I’m not? Why would you think that?

Jimin [19:53] Have you said anything to him at all today?

Dilara [19:54] I have gone many many days without saying a single word to him. Did you by any chance tell him what we talked about yesterday?

Jimin [19:56] Of course not. Please don’t avoid him because of that. He’s really confused - I can tell.

Dilara [19:56] Jimin. I’m not avoiding him. Really. I just don’t know what to say to him, to be very honest.

Jimin [19:57] What? Things were getting so much better between you two. 

Dilara [19:58] Well, sure. We weren’t throwing things at each other and screaming anymore. That’s a pretty low bar.

Jimin [19:58] Fair enough. Will you be joining us for dinner?

Dilara [19:59] Not sure. I have to go for a briefing. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

Jimin [20:00] Want me to tell him to pick you up? You guys could talk.

Dilara [20:00] Omg NO. Jimin!

Jimin [20:00} What? He’ll be happy to do it.

Dilara [20:01] I’m sure he would. Look, Jimin, I know you feel guilty about your part in this, okay? If this is your way of trying to help - you’re off the hook. I forgive you.

Jimin [20:02] Really?

Dilara [20:02] Yes.

There’s no response. Dilara slows down slightly, wondering if her hunch is actually right. She’d only said that to shut him up, but his silence seems to indicate otherwise.

Then -

Jimin [20:05] Did you kiss last week?

Dilara [20:06] I fucking beg your pardon?

Jimin [20:07] Hobi hyung said he saw you guys hugging. If I remember correctly, you two had no problem going further than that in public.

Dilara [20:08] Jimin. Shut up.

Jimin [20:09] Just a question. Jeez.

Dilara [20:09] I dare you to go ask him this.

Jimin [20:10] Well played.

Dilara [20:11] Look, Jimin, I have to go. Just… I’m not avoiding him, okay? And even if it seems like it, it’s probably for the best.

When Jimin doesn’t reply, she breathes a silent sigh of relief. She’s almost at the conference room now and she’s getting late, but she needs to know this conversation is closed. Then, just when she thinks she can move on with her day, a picture pops up on the chat. It’s of Taehyung, shockingly, in the backyard with his blond hair catching the setting sun as he points - her heart skips a beat - the Polaroid she’d gifted him at the horizon.

Realising with a start that she’s been staring at it for almost a minute, Dilara types out a reply, fingers shaking slightly. 

Dilara [20:15] What am I looking at?

Jimin [20:15] He’s been out there for an hour now. He looks like he’s in a k-drama.

If by that he means that Taehyung looks tall, handsome and tragic all at once, he’s right. Dilara feels a familiar rush of mild envy and pride all at once, and knows she needs to nip this in the bud.

Dilara [20:16] Well, he certainly acts well enough to be in one. I have to go. I’ll see you later.

All through the briefing, Dilara can’t help but think that her decision to avoid them is for the best, if Jimin’s reaction is anything to go by. Even after the briefing, she dilly-dallies near the enclosure, wondering how to kill even more time before she has no choice but to head back to the house. 

Dilara sighs and glances down at her phone. It’s barely seven; she can’t hang around here for five hours… she looks around, wondering if she can possibly hang around with her pit crew to fix her car or something, when she suddenly catches sight of a small group of them and sees Jaden Park in the middle of it. Her heart in her mouth at how narrowly she’s avoided him, she turns the opposite way and starts walking towards the parking lot.

Then, a miracle happens.

Dilara’s phone pings and she groans softly, not in the mood for more of Jimin’s guilt trip. Honestly, she’s glad that her confession of sorts seems to have indeed been kept from Taehyung, but she’s more convinced than ever that both of them need this space to clear their heads. 

Max [22:40] Komyshan. Heading out for a bite with Daniel, Lando and Charles. You’re coming, right?

Her heart leaps and she thinks if her taste were slightly different, she could kiss Max Verstappen. She types out a reply, not even trying to suppress the relieved smile she can feel on her face. Rapidly saying a quick yes, she skips over to the parking lot.

As she nears it, she feels something nagging at her, tugging at her heart. She reopens her chat with Jimin, slowly scrolling up until she finds it. 

He’s really confused - I can tell. 

There is no reason this should evoke any sympathy in her. She should want him to feel bad for everything he did, but that angry part of her feels like a past version, like a person she used to know. If anything, she knows how he feels, with the confusion - and she realises it’s not sympathy, but empathy she’s starting to feel for him, especially if he’s had Jimin breathing down his neck the entire time as well. 

Dilara scrolls further down to the picture Jimin sent her of Taehyung; of course he looks like a model, like a stock photo. Perfect body proportions, perfect jawline silhouette, perfectly falling hair, capturing perfect pictures, looking perfectly heartbroken.

She sighs again, struggling. Things were getting so much better with you two. It’s the validation she didn’t know she needed. She recalls how his unexpected appearance behind the front door had taken her breath away last night. 

Feeling apprehensive, she opens her chat with Taehyung to see only two messages, from the night Chris visited. She bites her lip, deciding that she needs to tell someone where she is anyway or they’re bound to get worried. Thumb hovering over the keyboard momentarily, she types out a message.

Dilara [22:50] I’m going out with some of the guys. Not sure when I’ll be back but let’s talk later?

Dilara hits send and immediately panics. Talk? Talk about what? She groans out loud, attracting the attention of her fellow drivers. When Max calls out “Komyshan!”, she waves back tiredly and walks towards them. After they’re all strapped in and Charles is reversing out of the parking lot, she receives a reply.

Tae [22:52] I’ll be waiting.

---

He isn’t, not exactly. 

It actually ends up being an extremely late night for them; Dilara and her friends go back to the same club that she’d gone to with BTS two nights ago and although they don’t drink nearly as much and definitely don’t dance, it ends up being a pretty fun night overall and actually succeeds in making her forget about her love life for a couple of hours. When it’s finally time to go, it’s almost one in the morning, just as she’d hoped. 

Dilara is pleasantly surprised when Max drops off the other three before driving her back to the house, remembering that they can’t let the group’s location be revealed to anyone. They don’t talk about it, thankfully, but when he stops the car and she’s about to open the door, he finally speaks.

“How’s it going, by the way?” Max points to the house. “Are you two good now?”

She shrugs. “No idea, honestly.”

He frowns, looking mildly curious. “Oh. Looked like everything was fine at the photoshoot the other day. You two looked like you were sneaking around again.”

We were? Dilara’s confusion must show on her face, for Max chuckles. “Obviously, I’m wrong. Anyway,” he says abruptly, and she takes that as her cue to step out, “good luck for tomorrow. Go get some sleep.”

When she enters the house, it’s to see all seven members huddled on the sofa, with Jungkook, Yoongi and Hoseok sitting on the back of the couch. She frowns and stares as the door clicks shut behind her, wondering why on earth they feel the need to pile on top of each other while there are two more perfectly comfortable couches right next to them. 

Then she spots the laptop perched on the coffee table in front of them and when Jin says something in Korean and a couple of them laugh and Jimin replies, she realises they're live.

All their eyes flicker up to look at her, though, before quickly darting back to the screen, their expressions carefully unchanging - all except Taehyung. 

He meets her gaze; with his long hair brushing his ears and a green cardigan making him look warm and inviting, it’s no wonder she doesn’t look away for a couple of seconds before he tears his eyes away to look back at the screen. 

Sensing this as the ultimate opportunity to avoid whatever conversation he has in mind, Dilara swiftly makes her way into her bedroom and quietly shuts the door. Hesitating for exactly one second, she crosses her bedroom and opens her tablet, the only device she has that still has the Vlive app, and joins the stream.

Taehyung looks up again in the direction of her room before turning his attention back to the screen, and for a moment it feels like he’s looking right at her. He glances vaguely over at the rest of them before he locks eyes with Namjoon and - it happens in a split second - Namjoon gives him an imperceptible shake of the head.

Dilara lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, somewhat thankful yet regretful that she won’t hear a knock on her door right now. The next moment, though, she sees Taehyung look down at his lap again and pick up his phone this time, fingers flying over the screen. Right on cue, her phone buzzes next to her.

She scoffs quietly, ignoring how her heart leaps in spite of itself, unsurprised to see a message. 

Tae [01:10] How was your night?

Dilara [01:11] Tiring.

Tae [01:12] Still up for that talk?

Dilara [01:13] Aren’t you live?

Tae [01:13] I go live a lot.

Dilara [01:14] Namjoon looks like he could kill you if you left.

Tae [01:14] Hold on, are you watching?

Dilara feels like slapping herself. When she looks up at the screen, she sees his cheeks pulled back slightly, head still bent over his phone. 

Dilara [01:15] Just a guess. Can we take a raincheck? I’m pretty tired and I have Qualifying tomorrow.

On screen, he freezes for a moment and she thinks she notices his shoulders fall slightly. He types something before locking his phone and looking up at the camera, tossing his hair out of his eyes, face completely unreadable. Her phone pings, and her heart thuds softly at his reply. 

Tae [01:16] Of course. Sleep well. 

The next day, the flaw with her proposition comes to light when Dilara, once again, sees them in the paddock. She’s been in the garage for nearly two hours by the time Taehyung, Jimin, Jungkook and Namjoon arrive. Given the public setting, the most she can do is wave to them from afar and ignore Jimin giving her a pointed look.

She’d thought long and hard about it as she fell asleep last night, the content of their “talk”. We need space, she’d rehearsed in her head. Just to think. Just to figure this out. Short and vague, the best way to go. 

Of course, talking about space isn’t the best decision, especially since none of their conversations have ever gone as planned. They either fight or cry or both, and she’d really rather avoid any of that. As a result, she avoids all of them, specifically Jimin’s texts and even Jungkook when he comes up to her car, eyes shining in admiration. She engages with him while the cameras are on them but the moment they drift away, she immediately excuses herself and hurries into her changing room.

It’s Qualifying day, though, so there’s enough to do in any case. Dilara goes out for FP3, having long and serious discussions with Christian, all his attention on her for once since Max will start tomorrow from the back of the grid due to his penalty. 

Dilara feels strangely stressed, still. Part of it is Qualifying, part of it is having Max all the way back in P20 and therefore of no support to her, part of it is Jimin’s continuous texts, Taehyung’s presence, their impending conversation, and Jaden bumping into her yet again - except this time, he’s openly cold.

“Good luck,” he says shortly, brushing past her.

“Thanks,” says Dilara automatically, stumbling slightly while he continues walking.

“Pity you didn’t get the new engine,” he adds, turning around and walking backwards.

“Bite me, Park.” 

She shakes her head as he disappears around a corner, the competitiveness emerging in full force. One date, one date and this is the fallout she has to deal with. She makes sure to continue thinking about it, enjoying the anger she knows will help when she gets into the car and zooms into Q3, eventually qualifying P3 for the race tomorrow. 

Everyone’s happy; Christian hugs her, Max comes from inside the garage in jeans, hugging her for the cameras, and Natalie Pinkham interviews her, Lewis and George, all the top three qualifiers, one by one. 

Dilara still evades the group, though; she sees Namjoon smile at her from across the garage and tentatively smiles back, but looks at no one else. She’s aware of what a terrible job she’s doing with this; she doesn’t even want to imagine what Taehyung’s face looks like when she ignores him. But there’s only so much she can focus on during a race weekend, or at least that’s what she tells herself.

Dilara does have one moment of pleasure, though; on her way back inside for a shower, she passes Jaden again. 

“Looks like I won’t be needing that engine after all,” she says innocently, mimicking his shrug and ignoring his scowl as she walks away.

She manages to sneak away from the paddock without the group. There’s a sponsorship meeting they have with the Red Bull marketing team, which was the reason they even showed up today, and the moment she spotted them shuffling into the conference room between engineers and press officers darting about, she hurried away, keen to get back home and lock herself up in her room until she has to go to sleep.

The house is a fifteen minute walk from the paddock. Dilara tries to let go of everything else for a while and just enjoy the weather in silence, along with her P3 starting position and her jab at a bitter ex-flame. It’s peaceful, the last rays of the sun lighting up the sky while the cool breeze makes autumn leaves crunch under her shoes. The house is two minutes away now, within her view, when her phone pings yet again, followed by a series of pings.

Frowning - and panicking, slightly - she opens her phone to see eight messages on the most ridiculous WhatsApp group she’s a part of: Taehyung’s true loves, courtesy Jimin, who added her and Jungkook in an effort to convince her that their friendship is independent of her relationship with Taehyung. Neither she nor Jungkook had ever said anything on it, too awkward to, so eventually after a series of whiny messages, Jimin had stopped as well.

Dilara has no desire to start becoming an active participant now. With all the strength in her, she locks her phone and is about to slip it into her bag when it buzzes, the ringtone loud in the quiet of the street.

Huffing, she answers it. “What?”

“Dilara? Uh… have you left?”

“What… Jungkook?” Unexpected, to say the least. “What are you - I mean, yeah. I have. Why?”

“You should come back,” is all he says. “Taehyung hyung kind of… it’s a bit of a situation.”

This explains nothing. “What does that mean?”

“Um…” Jungkook’s voice moves away, as though he’s speaking to someone else. “I think he - I think punched your ex? That guy? Or - or he tried to, anyway. He’s not the best at -”

“He what?”

“Yeah, no, his stance wasn’t very good either and -” There’s a shuffle and she hears the phone transferred to someone else.

“Hey, Dilara,” comes Jimin’s voice, calm - and smug. “Remember when you said you needed a sign? I think you just got one.”

–

Her legs are starting to cramp but Dilara doesn;t stop, not until she gets to the garage. She spots Jimin and Jungkook hovering at the entrance, shoulders relaxing in relief when they see her.

“What - the - hell?” she pants, stopping for the first time since the phone call. 

“Holy shit, did you run all the way?” Jimin asks, ignoring her shake of the head as she tries to catch her breath. “Here, have some water first.”

“What happened?” Dilara asks desperately, reaching for the water anyway and downing half of it in one go. “What do you mean he - and who’s -” There are so many moving parts to it that she falters, her heart feeling like it’s going to fall out of her chest.

“Jaden,” answers Jungkook. “The pit crew guy. He said…” He swallows and looks at Jimin apprehensively.

Her heart skips a beat. “What? Jungkook, what?” Then she remembers. “Wait, where the hell is he?”

“The medic is trying to stop his nose from bleeding,” answers Jimin, sounding repulsed. “Hope it hurts,” he adds savagely.

Her eyes widen and she slaps him on the shoulder. “Not him!”

Jimin blinks, rubbing his shoulder absently. “Oh. Taehyung’s over there - but he’s really angry so be careful when you -” 

But Dilara ignores him, brushing past both of them into the changing room he’s pointed at. Kicking the door open, she sees Seokjin standing next to Taehyung, who’s sitting holding an ice pack over his limp hand, while Jin speaks rapidly in Korean, sounding rather like he’s lecturing him. Taehyung looks up mid-wince, face going slack when he sees her, as though he can’t quite believe she’s here.

Seokjin mutters something when he sees her and pats his shoulder before walking out past her, giving her a small nod as he does. Dilara doesn’t look away from Taehyung, though. For a moment, they’re just staring at each other, him with apprehension and defiance, and she with an overwhelming sense of anger… and fear. There’s so much she wants to say, yell, scream that she can’t choose. 

She walks forward until she’s standing right above him. “Give me the icepack.”

Taehyung’s face reacts minutely before smoothing back out. He looks back down at his hands and shakes his head. “No.”

Dilara stares at him, incredulous. “Give me the icepack,” she repeats. “And you better start explaining while you’re at it.”

“I don’t need to explain anything,” he mumbles, twisting his body away from her. When she lunges towards him, livid and missing his hand by inches, he looks up in horror. “What are you doing?” he cries. “Do you have any idea how much this hurts?”

Her chest constricts. She reaches forward and takes off his snapback, just for something to do. “Then give it to me!”

“What the - no! Go away!”

“No way. You don’t get to cause drama on my paddock and then tell me to -”

“Oh, so now this is about you?”

“Goddamnit, Tae! Why do you have to make everything so difficult!” she shouts in frustration. “Just give me the fucking icepack!”

Taehyung stares up at her, eyes wide. He takes a shaky breath and she realises with a jolt that for the first time since they broke up, she’s addressed him by his name. Tae… She hasn’t said that name out loud in months, not to Jimin, not to Lexie, not even to herself.

Silently, he raises his hand and hands her the icepack. Taking it, she kneels in front of him and takes his right hand, gingerly placing the icepack on it. He hisses but keeps his hand steady, and she carefully continues, trying not to think about how close they are, how she can feel him looking at her.

His knuckles are red and bruised, but thankfully not bleeding. She tries to hold his hand as gently as possible, but firmly enough that he can’t pull away because she really, really doesn't want to let go of him right now.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demands in a low voice, not looking up. “How could you -” she breaks off, shaking her head.

It’s a moment before Taehyung answers. “It’s not important.” When her head snaps up to look at him incredulously, he frowns and looks away, shrugging stubbornly.

“How is it -” Dilara pauses with the icepack for a moment, exhaling through her nose. “You hit him. You punched him - apparently.”

He frowns. “What do you mean apparently?” he asks, sounding almost defensive.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says sarcastically, holding up his hand and ignoring his dramatic gasp. “Look at this. Have you ever punched anything before?”

“Jungkook taught me once. Kind of.”

“That’s great. And now Jaden is with the medic getting his nose fixed! How is why not important?”

Taehyung scoffs in disgust. “There was barely any blood. Don’t worry, his stupid face will be fine,” he mutters scathingly.

Dilara glares up at him again, fighting the urge to smack the back of his head. “I don’t care about him!” She ignores how he suddenly looks up, as though surprised. “What about you? You - you hurt your hand!” She takes a deep breath. “What if he complains? He - he will complain and then Red Bull -” She gasps as something horrific occurs to her. “What if they - what if Big Hit gets involved? This - this is a PR disaster!”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to have heard most of what she’s said. “It - it will be fine,” he says finally, but she can hear an undertone of worry in his voice. “Namjoon hyung is talking to the team.” He swallows. “I trust him.”

Don’t we all. But Red Bull is a whole other matter. “God, Tae…” She drops her head before raising it slowly to look up at him. “Please tell me this isn’t about what you overheard the other night.”

He says nothing for a moment but then frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“The sign. When I told him that -” But it’s too much to explain and she doesn’t have the patience to get him to admit something he doesn’t want to - if he indeed has something to admit to. “Forget it. What did he say? Jaden?”

Predictably, Taehyunglowers his eyes again. “I can’t tell you. But he deserved it.”

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

“I mean that there’s no point if I tell you. He said a lot of stupid stuff but if I tell you, then it’s not - it’s not…” He sighs and looks away, and she knows he’s searching for the English word. “It doesn’t mean anything if I tell you,” he says finally, giving up.

Dilara stares. “Are you telling me… you punched a guy - badly - and hurt your hand and you can’t tell me because you’re trying to be chivalrous?” When his eyes light up at the sound of the word he was looking for, she snaps. “You - what? You jeopardized your career to - to defend my honour? Are you actually serious?”

“You didn’t hear him,” he states, frowning down at her now. “You don’t know what he was saying. And no, I’m not telling you,” he adds before she can ask again. “But, yeah. What he said was horrible. And…” He shrugs defiantly. “I didn’t like hearing that about you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that. She should be flattered, and she thinks she is, but it pales in comparison to how worried she is for him right now. He has no idea the power Red Bull holds - none at all. “You’re going to be in so much trouble,” she whispers. “He could press charges. How are you not more worried?”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker. “I don’t think he will,” he says, but his fake confidence doesn’t fool her. “I - I don’t regret it.” He meets her gaze. “Everything he said was bullshit,” he blurts. “He doesn’t know you at all. Seriously, I can’t believe you went out with him.”

Dilara raises an eyebrow. “You really want to go there?”

He frowns churlishly. “He’s an asshole. He -” Taehyung stops himself, biting down on his lip. “You are so out of his league,” he says eventually, looking away.

After a moment, she dips the icepack onto his hand again, slowly, concentrating on nothing else. “You’re an idiot,” she says quietly, her voice betraying her. “Such a drama queen.” 

Taehyung rests his other hand on her shoulder, brushing his thumb lightly against her jaw. She knows he’s doing it to comfort her, but she doesn’t think she’s the one that needs it right now. “I still can’t believe you did this. You’re going to be in so much trouble, Tae,” she repeats, looking up at him again. His eyes soften when she says his name again, and she can tell it means the world to him. But right now, she doesn’t care about that. 

“It won’t be as bad as you think. I told you, I trust Namjoon hyung,” he reminds her, eyes flickering to her mouth momentarily. But then a shadow passes across his face. “I just hope I haven’t got him in trouble.”

To that, Dilara has nothing to say. The ice has almost melted now; they’re basically just holding hands, but even the realisation doesn’t make her want to let go. “What did he say?” she tries again, deciding that disdain towards Jaden is better than this worry for his leader. “Jaden?”

Taehyung’s face twists in disgust; somehow he still manages to look handsome and sexy all at once. “I told you, I’m not telling you,” he says obstinately, a slight smirk appearing when she rolls her eyes. 

“I can’t think what would be so bad that you’d do this,” she confesses, shaking her head. “You never struck me as the violent type.”

He frowns. “I’m not. But you make me step out of my comfort zone quite a bit,” he adds, cracking a smile.

Dilara holds his gaze, not sure what about the situation today could have required it. It’s not surprising that Jaden would’ve said something, maybe even something really bad. Did he call her a bad driver? A slut? A whore? She’s mildly shocked at how little those words affect her, especially when it’s in comparison to the sheer terror she’s feeling for Taehyung right now.

She’s just contemplating how she will face him and the rest of the group if it turns out that she’s the reason BTS goes from seven to six members, when he bumps her forehead with his. “Stop worrying,” he chides gently. “It’s happened now. We’ll see how it goes.”

Even as her heart races at the momentary proximity of their faces, she glares up at him. “I can’t stop worrying. You should be worrying,” she points out, jabbing him in the chest with the hand holding the icepack.

“You - ugh, you’re getting water on my shirt…”

The door behind them swings open then and she sees Taehyung’s head snap up, face going smooth, before she turns to see Namjoon walking in, Seokjin right behind him. Both of them stand up in unison and before she can register what’s happening, Taehyung is ushered out and into a meeting room.

“Wait, wait,” she says quickly, grabbing Namjoon’s arm. “What’s - who’s in there?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a couple of people from Red Bull and Big Hit,” he replies, in what she presumes is meant to be a reassuring tone. “They just want to know what happened. Although, Jaden is…” He trails off, and he winces uncomfortably.

“But what’s going to happen to - to Tae? What are they going to -”

“Dilara, relax,” says Namjoon hurriedly, starting to walk out of the room. “We have our reps. It should be over soon.”

That doesn’t sound comforting at all. “What is that supposed to - do they know it was Jaden’s fault? Apparently he said -” Here she breaks off, remembering suddenly that even she don’t know what he said.

Apparently taking advantage of her momentary silence, Namjoon starts to slip out. “He’ll be out soon,” he promises.

“Stop making it sound like prison!” she says loudly as they leave. Alone once again, she trudges out of the changing room to see…

“Shit,” she mutters, spotting her across the garage. “Vicki.”

Dilara’s press officer raises her eyebrows before beckoning her exactly like Namjoon did Taehyung, and just like her ex, she silently follows her into a secluded corner of the garage.

“Alright,” says Vicki, somehow managing to sound stern, knowing and worried all at once. “Please tell me you did not go out with someone from Max’s pit crew.”

—

“... and then he cornered me again yesterday to ask me why I wouldn’t go out with him -”

“Again?” Vicki shakes her head, incredulous. “Jesus, Dilara. Why didn’t you tell someone he was bothering you?”

“Because -” Dilara shrugs uncomfortably. “We’re racing. And it wasn’t a big deal.” When she catches sight of Vicki’s expression, she backtracks. “Okay, honestly? If he’d come up to me one more time, I probably would have.”

“You shouldn’t have to wait for that,” she declares in her usual business-like fashion. “But maybe you didn’t because he’s a member of the team…?” Vicki tilts her head knowingly.

Dilara’s face heats up. “I know it’s not technically against the rules,” she murmurs, only slightly guilty as she looks down at the floor. “But it’s stupid.”

Vicki observes her for a moment before nodding. “Still doesn’t give him the right to talk like an arsehole.”

“Okay, what did he say?” Dilara asks for what feels like the hundredth time. “Why won’t anyone just tell me?”

“Well, firstly because he said it in Korean,” she points out. “And secondly… you should ask your friends,” she adds, tilting her chin at something behind Dilara. She turns to see Jimin and Jungkook waiting at the end of the corridor, trying to look nonchalant but clearly waiting for her. The rush of affection she feels for them in that moment is overwhelming.

Dilara turns back to Vicki, not meeting her eyes. By the way she said “friends”, it’s clear she knows they aren’t just any friends. Or it’s because one of them hit a guy a member of the team. “What’s - what’s going to happen to - to Jaden?”

Vicki shrugs sympathetically. “They’re both in there,” she answers, and Dilara is grateful for how she includes Taehyung in it, too. “We’ll see. Don’t worry about it, Dilara. You have a race tomorrow,” she reminds her.

Dilara nods and watches as Vicki leaves after patting her shoulder, before turning around and walking towards Jimin and Jungkook. Suddenly aware of how much taller they are, she buries her hands in the pockets of her hoodie. “You guys want to go for a walk?” she asks in a small voice.

Even though they both nod instantly and Jungkook simply puts an arm around her shoulders, they only end up getting as far as the garage before Seokjin, who’s still outside the conference room, shakes his head silently as soon as he spots them. From this, she gathers that they’re still not in total privacy and she can’t be seen alone on a street with just two members and no production crew.

They slowly drift apart, taking seats on opposite sides of the garage. For the first time ever, Dilara initiated a conversation on Jimin’s silly WhatsApp group. Both of them reply immediately and she finally, finally gets the whole story.

They tell her how after their meeting, a couple of engineers had come in to use the printer for some data. One of them, Jaden, recognised them and greeted them in Korean, after which everyone else left, leaving only the eight of them in the room. It was small talk for a bit initially, with Taehyung hanging in the back and not participating at all, before Jaden really opened his mouth.

At this, Jungkook hesitates, wondering if Taehyung hyung should be the one to tell her. She informs them about the weird chivalrous trip Taehyung’s on and that she’s not getting a single answer out of him. After some silent begging and pleading from across the garage, Jimin visibly rolls his eyes and spills.

Jimin [19:41] He said he thought you were hot and it was good to finally having something nice to look at on the paddock

Jungkook [19:42] And he said that he went out with you in Yeongam and you… did stuff.

Dilara [19:43] Oh god. Seriously? He actually said that?

Jimin [19:44] Yeah. And then Namjoon said that we’ve all known you for a long time now and then Jaden asked if any of us had ever hooked up with you. Obviously we all said no.

Jungkook [19:45] Except Taehyung hyung. He just didn’t answer.

Jimin [19:46] Yeah, but Jaden didn’t notice. He said he thought you were cool initially but then you became kind of mean and you didn’t want to go out with him anymore.

Dilara [19:46] He said I was “mean”? That’s the word he used? 

Across the garage, she can see Jimin look up at her apprehensively before glancing at Jungkook, who simply shrugs uncomfortably. 

Dilara [19:46] Come on, what did he really say?

Jimin [19:47] He called you a spoiled brat… and a bitch. And he said that you turned him down after one date because you were still hung up on your ex.

Fuck. Dilara groans inwardly, Taehyung’s suppressed happiness and gentle yet confident caresses suddenly making sense. When she looks up at them, cringing visibly, she spots both of them biting back smug smiles. 

Dilara [19:48] Shut up. 

Jimin [19:49] Hilarious. Anyway, then Jin hyung tried to change the subject but Jaden brought it back to you again. He said if he’d known you were just good for one date, he would’ve gotten as much out of it as he could right then.

Jungkook [19:50] And then he… did a thing with his hand.

Dilara [19:51] So he’s a creep. Tae hit him because of this? Really?

Jimin [19:51] Well he said it in a lot more detail. But I can’t type that out.

Jungkook [19:52] Yeah, he called you a really bad word. And I can’t tell you. It’s in Korean and I can’t say it. It’s too horrible.

Huh. Dilara looks up to see Jungkook frowning at the screen, apparently troubled just at the thought of it. She wracks her brains for the worst thing a guy could call a girl in English. The more she thinks about it, the more she finds she doesn’t really want to know.

Jungkook [19:56] Anyway. Then out of nowhere, Taehyung punched him. Jaden got knocked back into the wall and I think his nose was bleeding.

Jimin [19:56] He deserves it. Who the fuck talks like that?

Dilara [19:57] And Tae? I saw his hand.

Jimin [19:57] Yeah, he was quite pissed. I haven’t seen him like that in a long time.

Dilara [19:58] Do you know what they’re talking about in there?

Jungkook [19:58] Not a clue. I think they’re just working on a way to keep it quiet.

Jungkook and Jimin launch into a discussion speculating what will happen now, whether their lawyers will get involved or whether they’ll try to resolve it right here, and if Jaden will try to make it a bigger deal. Dilara can’t participate; all she can think about is Taehyung in there, no idea what they’re talking about or what frame of mind he’s in. He’s smart and clever, but he’s also impulsive with his words. One wrong question or remark and he’ll respond with the snarkiest comment he can come up with, making the situation worse than it already is. 

Jimin [20:03] Don’t worry, Dilara. This wasn’t your fault.

Dilara shakes her head, not caring that she’s this transparent. Jimin’s words, while technically what she needs to hear, don't help at all because, really - isn't it her fault? Wasn't Jaden a dick because of her, because she turned him down? Wasn't Taehyung being reckless because of how far she’s pushed him? Because she entered his life in the first place? Her thoughts spiral as she imagines being the sole reason for BTS's negative publicity, for their hate, for their disbandment  -

Her phone pings again, but from a different contact. The moment she sees Namjoon's display icon, she dives for the phone. 

Namjoon [20:08] Hey. You alright?

Dilara [20:08] What is going on in there? How are you texting?

Namjoon [20:08] Hard to say. And Christian got a phone call that he had to pick up. 

Dilara [20:09] Damnit. How's Tae?

Namjoon [20:09] Pretty calm.

Dilara [20:09] That’s… not good. Right? Or is it?

Namjoon [20:10] No, he's not going overboard. I was there - I kind of get why he got so mad.

Dilara [20:10] Really?

Namjoon [20:11] Yeah. I mean, not mad enough to punch a guy in the face.

There’s a rolling eyes emoji at the end of the message. Dilara feels a tingling in her fingers and a prickle of defensiveness.

Dilara [20:12] I guess if a guy had said that about Kaya, you wouldn't have done the same. 

She doesn’t phrase it like a question; she doesn’t want it to seem like she’s challenging him… even though she kind of is. Dilara watches the ellipses appear to indicate that he’s typing. He types for a while, nearly a minute, pausing constantly. Finally, the message appears.

Namjoon [20:14] Yeah, I would’ve broken his face.

Mildly satisfied, she places the phone down and waits. Jimin and Jungkook have stopped their bickering on the group, too, but she makes a mental note to thank them later, genuinely and profusely, for being so nice to her when she’s been anything but.

It’s nearly thirty more minutes of excruciating waiting, with Seokjin, Jimin and Jungkook sitting with her. She hasn't the faintest where Yoongi and Hoseok are; she’s about to ask Jin about it, just to distract herself, when the door opens and Christian comes out.

Dilara leaps to her feet automatically, thoroughly relieved when his eyes land on her instantly and he beckons her to follow him. She jogs after him until they’re out of earshot and he turns to her, suddenly looking taller.

“Has Jaden been harassing you, Dilara?” The first question out of his mouth throws her for a loop.

“Has he -” She swallows, biting her lip. “Why - um, what have you heard?”

“That he’s been harassing you.” Christian folds his arms across his chest. “Vicki just told us. It changes everything.”

Her heart skips a beat. “Changes what? What - what do you mean? What happened? What’s going to happen to -”

“Well, Jaden has been fired,” he begins, placing his hands on his hips. “He was a good engineer, but…” He shakes his head. “We can’t have a person on the team who treats a woman like that. It would be a publicity nightmare.” His eyes snap up to her. “And it’s incredibly disrespectful to you, too, of course.”

Dilara nods, somewhat in a daze. “So, he’s… fired? Just like that? What if he goes to the press?”

“He’s signing an NDA. If he wants his severance and doesn’t want to be blacklisted, he’ll sign it.” Christian’s confidence seems dangerously unbalanced. “Plus, Big Hit would lose millions if they broke the contract now. And also, apparently, the negative publicity would be enormous if it got out that their employee was being punished for defending his… friend.”

By the way he says it, she knows she’s been made. “Christian…”

“He was the same bloke that miraculously found you on the middle of the road in Monza, was he not?”

Dilara swallows. “He was. Look, it’s not -”

“I don’t want to know.”

“No, you don’t -”

“No, I genuinely don’t want to know.” He looks at her knowingly - too knowingly. “It’s better,” he says, slower this time, “if I don’t know.” When she nods hesitantly, he pats her shoulder once. “Right. Your friend… I think he should be fine. But in the future, Dilara,” he adds, suddenly sounding tired, “do let us know if a team member is creating a hostile work environment, will you?”

Dilara nods silently as he walks away, at the last minute telling her to go home and rest for the race tomorrow. She has no intention of going anywhere, though, not until she hears from Namjoon himself that this is over. Not Christian, not even Taehyung - Namjoon. Only him.

The next two minutes are unbearable. She walks back slowly to where she was seated before to see Seokjin, Jimin and Jungkook waiting for her expectantly. 

“Well?” Jimin prompts urgently.

“Um… he’s - he’s signing an NDA,” is all that comes out of her mouth. When all three of them look completely confused, she doesn’t know where to begin. “He said Jaden - Jaden signed an NDA and I think he said that Tae -”

At that moment, the conference room door opens and three people spill out: Taehyung, with a Korean man in a suit next to him, and Namjoon a step behind. To her immense relief, the latter strides over to them first thing. He says something in Korean, to which all three of them sigh loudly in relief. Heart hammering, Dilara looks up at him and tugs on his sleeve.

“What?” she asks quietly, desperately.

“He’s off the hook,” says Namjoon in English, clearly trying to keep his own smile under control, even as the dimples pop on his cheeks. "He's going to get a warning from the company, but since it won't get out… it'll be okay. It’ll be okay,” he repeats, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly.

Dilara swallows with difficulty, the words suddenly making no sense. “He’s -” She clears her throat, unable to tear her eyes away from Taehyung. His eyes meet hers for a fraction of a second over the man’s shoulder, but his expression is as unreadable as ever. “He’s not kicked out of the group?”

Namjoon raises his eyebrows. “You would think… but no.” He chuckles. “I’m kidding. We have some pretty good lawyers, you know?”

She doesn’t comment on how ominous that sounds. Next to her, Jungkook is rubbing his eyes, smiling in embarrassment. She can’t see what Seokjin and Jimin are doing behind her, and she only vaguely registers someone patting the top of her head.

Ahead of them, the man in the suit is finally walking away. Taehyung says something to him as he leaves but she doesn’t want to wait any longer. She turns to Namjoon.

“Can I… I mean, do you mind if we…”

Namjoon doesn’t look surprised at this unfinished request. He glances at Taehyung, who’s now slowly walking up to them, and nods. “Just… I mean, I don’t want to be that guy, but…” He shrugs apologetically “… one minute. We need to get on a conference call after this.”

She nods mutely and waits for all of them to vacate the garage before finally, finally facing Taehyung.

He stands before her, a respectful few feet between them, his hands in his pockets and looking breathtakingly handsome. He looks expectant, defiant - but above all, he looks relieved. It suddenly reminds her of how he’d looked at her nearly two years ago in the Suzuka paddock, before they’d ever exchanged a single word. 

Taehyung exhales shakily, and something snaps in her. All the anxiety of the weekend rushes into her chest at the same time and she tilts her head slightly, taking a step forward as though on autopilot. He nods silently and meets her halfway, and they wrap their arms around each other in an emotional hug.

Taehyung displays none of the hesitation he’d shown in the kitchen a week ago. His long hair brushes against her cheek where he’s buried his face in her neck, breathing now slightly uneven and she knows that despite his cool exterior, he was worried, too. She tightens her arms around his shoulders, gripping his shirt and pressing her forehead against his collarbone.

“You’re such an idiot, Kim Taehyung,” she murmurs shakily, savouring the familiar scent of lotion and spicy cologne. Christian Dior Sauvage, she remembers, tilting her face and inhaling slightly.

Taehyung nods, squeezing her waist with one hand. “I know,” he whispers against her skin, voice deep and reverberating in her ear.

Every bit of frustration, exasperation, gratitude and all the unnamed feelings she’s pushed deep down threaten to resurface. There’s so much she wants to tell him, and this is it.  She doesn’t know how to tell him more; when she feels his lips press against the skin just below her ear, as though instinctive, she feels an old familiar warmth in her abdomen and she doesn’t want it to go anywhere.

Dilara vaguely registers voices, a cue that causes them to begrudgingly separate. There’s some bustling; a phone call, some instructions in Korean, and Namjoon beckoning to his members. Dilara quietly takes her leave, trying not to think about how tightly she and Taehyung held each other or how her fingers slipped out of his hand when she left.

—

Dilara is woken by the sound of raucous laughter outside that abruptly dies down when someone shushes them. She groans softly; it’s still dark outside and the time on her phone indicates that she’s been asleep for less than an hour.

She hadn’t returned to the house after leaving the paddock. Too buzzed to be by herself, she’d headed straight to the hotel where the rest of the drivers were staying. A couple of the drivers had been playing FIFA and she’d piled on, making every effort to distract herself from the events of the day. She’d come back to the house an hour ago, sneaking in and going straight to her room and crashing. 

It was a fairly uncomfortable sleep, mostly because there’s something nagging on her mind, something she’s forgetting. Dilara can’t put her finger on it; she knows it has to do with Taehyung and what happened today, but everything else escapes her. She shifts restlessly in her bed, trying to go back to sleep - but the damage is done, and she’s wide awake..

Even after the voices outside dwindle down one by one before disappearing altogether and the light under the door turns off, she still can’t sleep. 

It’s after midnight when she checks her phone again, opening WhatsApp and checking for new messages. Apart from three messages from Jimin timed around the time they reached the house (Hey we got piri piri chicken! Okay Yoongi hyung just said you’re probably asleep. Good night :)), there’s nothing else. 

She thinks for a second, then goes onto the Taehyung’s true loves group. The last message is a joke from Jimin that he’d cracked to try and cheer her up.

Dilara [00:09] Hey guys. Just wanted to say thanks for today. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around but you guys were really there for me so… thank you.

Jimin [00:15] No need to thank us but fine, you can buy us ice cream tomorrow.

Dilara [00:15] I can? Aren’t you both dieting?

Jungkook [00:16] We can give it up for one ice cream. And you can join us in the gym when we burn it off.

Dilara [00:17] Deal. And um

Jungkook [00:17] What? 

Jungkook [00:18] Oh yeah. Taehyung was looking for you when we got back.

Dilara [00:19] Oh. Right. I was asleep.

Jimin [00:19] You’re not anymore. 

Dilara [00:20] And?

Jimin [00:20] And he’s awake too. 

Dilara can almost picture Jimin’s smirk as he dances around the topic. Fortunately, Jungkook comes to her rescue.

Jungkook [00:21] Yes but you have a race tomorrow, Dilara. You should sleep. 

Dilara [00:21] I will. Thank you Jungkook.

Jungkook [00:22] You’re welcome. And while we’re on the topic of thank yous, I think Taehyung hyung is the one you should really be saying that to.

Oh. Of course. Dilara sighs as it finally clicks, what she’s been forgetting. She’s snapped at him, confessed her worries to him, dropped her defences and embraced him - but she hasn’t thanked him, not yet. 

Now that she’s realised it, she knows she can’t sleep. She considers texting him, but she doesn’t know if that would seem too impersonal, especially after the emotional hug they shared. What does she do instead, though? Ask him to meet her outside? That feels like far too much pressure.

Jesus. Dilara climbs out of bed and heads to the kitchen, silently opening the fridge and taking her first drink of water in hours. This is Taehyung, she thinks, leaning against the kitchen island. Nothing about him warrants this much overthinking. Pulling out her phone from her pajamas’ pocket, she texts him.

Dilara [00:30] Hey.

Tae [00:32] Hey.

Dilara [00:33] How’s your hand?

Tae [00:33] Hurting a bit. Why aren’t you asleep?

Dilara [00:34] I couldn’t. You should stop texting though, if your hand hurts.

Tae [00:35] I can type with my left hand. Don’t you have a race tomorrow?

Dilara [00:36] Yeah. I’ve raced with less sleep though. Why aren’t you asleep?

Tae [00:36] I’m in bed.

A familiar flutter erupts in her chest, and her toes curl on the wooden floor. Without warning, an image of a shirtless Taehyung in boxer shorts, glasses on, lying on his side with his phone in one hand appears in her mind. She’s willing to bet a thousand bucks that that’s how he looks right now, before she remembers that a lot of things could have changed in a year.

Dilara [00:37] That’s too bad. We’ll talk tomorrow then.

Tae [00:37] We can talk now too.

Dilara [00:38] Nah, it’s more of an in-person conversation.

Tae [00:38] You know we live in the same house, right?

Dilara bites her lip, trying to stop the smile from spreading on her face. She starts walking towards her room, her heart suddenly beating faster. Stopping in front of her room, she leans against the closed door. 

Dilara [00:39] I’m aware.

Tae [00:40] But no. You need to sleep.

He’s flirting. It’s been so long since Kim Taehyung has flirted with her this confidently that she’s forgotten how much of a blushing mess she becomes, being thankful only for the fact that it’s never visible on her face. She gazes absently at the closet door in front of her, trying to think of a response.

Dilara [00:41] Yeah, I do. I’ll probably need to sleep after the race tomorrow too, because it’s always so tiring.

Tae [00:42] You can sleep on the train to Amsterdam. It’s going to be a long trip.

Dilara [00:42] Probably. I’m sure I’ll find someone to keep me company. 

Tae [00:43] Seven of us not enough for you?

I really only need one. But she doesn’t say it. It’s far too risky.

Dilara [00:45] That's a lot of talk for someone who barely escaped getting in trouble today. Or who knows how much you would've regretted it?

Tae [00:45] I won't regret anything I do for you.

Dilara closes her eyes and leans her head back against the door, suddenly feeling warm. She wonders briefly if the conversation is venturing into unfamiliar territory - or, rather, an all-too familiar territory. 

She stares at the closet door in front of ber, hoping for inspiration, when it suddenly opens to, once again, reveal none other than Taehyung himself, pulling on a white t-shirt as he steps out.

The combination of her surprise, his presence and the generous glimpse of lean, honey-coloured torso is enough to make her stumble and drop her phone. “Shit,” she mutters, averting her eyes and bending to pick it up. She looks up to see him frowning, knees bent as though about to help her up.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung glances between her and his door. “What were you doing outside my room?”

“I - that’s your room? I thought it was a closet,” she admits in slight embarrassment, feeling her heart rate slowly go back to normal.

He nods, looking amused. “You really couldn’t sleep, huh?”

Dilara tilts her head, twisting her mouth to hide her smile. “I thought we already discussed that.” She can’t stop looking at him, privately admiring how incredible he looks even in a t-shirt and pajama bottoms, hair unstyled, face bare with a pair of black glasses perched on his nose. I was right, she thinks, mildly victorious. 

“We did. But now that you’re here…” He trails off pointedly, wiggling his eyebrows at her until she stifles a laugh. He grins, and her stomach does a backflip.

"I was just going to get back to bed," she tells him, and he simply nods. She doesn't move, though, and neither does he. His gaze is his usual intense one: unmoving, like a laser looking into her soul. She tries to hold it for as long as she can but when it becomes too much, she drops her gaze. "Can I see your hand?" she asks, mostly for something to say.

Wordlessly, he raises his right hand and she takes it. She can't really see anything; she brushes her fingers extremely lightly over his knuckles but he still hisses softly.

"Sorry," she mutters apologetically. "It's too dark here… can we go to the window?" 

He follows her a few steps away to the end of the hallway, where the house splits into a T, one room on either side. There's a window on the wall, though, wide and tall, with a near full moon causing a silvery light to stream in.

Dilara picks up his hand again and it makes sense now why he flinched. His knuckles are still an angry red, with scratches on the third and fourth joints. Her fingers ghost over his hand, but she’s careful not to touch him. When she hears his sharp intake of breath, she pauses before bringing both their hands down, fingers lightly intertwined momentarily before separating.

"I still can't believe you," she murmurs, shaking her head, but the disapproving tone is gone.

"I'm good at surprising people," he replies. He leans his side against the window and folds his arms across his chest, careful to keep his injured hand on the outside.

"Not just you." She doesn't look away from him. "Jimin and Jungkook told me what Jaden said." Predictably, his jaw clenches and his eyes blaze but the rest of his face stays unmoving. “I knew he was a jerk, but… yeah, I guess I’m surprised by how far he went.”

Taehyung observes her for a moment. “You still think he didn’t deserve it?”

Dilara reaches for his hand again, pointedly looking at his bruised knuckles. Thanks for defending me, she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. 

“Can you even hold a mic with this hand? You’re performing in a few days,” she reminds him, referring to the charity concert in Amsterdam scheduled for the coming Friday - one she’ll be missing because of her race in Russia.

“Hm, let’s check.” Taehyung gently pulls away to pick up her hand, wrapping his injured hand around her wrist and showing her how his fingers easily meet.

“Is that how you hold your mic?”

He smirks and tugs, bringing ber hand right up to his face… right up to his mouth. “This is how I hold my mic.” There’s a moment where she thinks he’s going to kiss her hand and she feels her heart race in anticipation. But after a moment, he lets go, smiling wider as though he knows exactly what’s going on in her mind.

Dilara wants to playfully smack him. Thanks for making me laugh. He’s flirting so blatantly, and she has to remind herself that amidst all the shit Jaden said, he did basically confirm to Taehyung that she’s not over him. 

“Your fans will be very worried when they see you’ve been injured. I can almost see the hashtags on Twitter,” she continues, gesturing grandly. “Stay Strong Taehyung, or We support Taehyung and his gorgeous, injured, sexy hand.”

He laughs, and it suddenly feels warmer. “They will be worried,” he agrees, cocking his head, “but I’m sure even they’ll agree that it was worth it. You know, given that he’s been bothering you for weeks now, and today was just the finale.”

Dilara’s smile fades. “Vicki told you,” she guesses, sighing when he nods. “Well… yeah. Like I said, I knew he was a jerk.”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Jinjja, Dilara,” he says, and her heart skips a beat at the sound of her name on his tongue. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh, really? So I was supposed to come to you and tell you that this guy I hooked up with suddenly won’t leave me alone?” She scoffs. “That would’ve gone well.”

He shrugs. “Why not? Whatever happened between us, it doesn’t matter if something is making you uncomfortable. And besides, it didn’t have to be me, you know.”

She barely hears his last sentence. Thanks for caring about me. “Fine. The next time a guy starts bothering me, I’ll make sure to keep you updated.”

“Good. I’ll keep my fists ready,” he says wryly, bringing his thin fists to his face and blowing on them.

“Maybe I’ll actually get Jungkook to teach you how to punch by then.”

“I’d rather you teach me.”

It’s predictable but Dilara’s cheeks heat up anyway, and his face breaks into a gorgeous grin. She looks down at their feet, and realises they’ve sub-consciously moved closer to each other. The moment she thinks of it, the scent of lotion and faint cologne suddenly grows stronger, and she gets the urge to sink into his chest and spend the night curled up in his arms. The thought of waking up warm and cuddled makes her yawn, and she quickly covers it up.

“You really should sleep.” Taehyung reaches over and gently ruffles her bangs, his old way of playfully banter before doing something really soft, usually beginning with pulling her to him and hugging her while she jokingly protested. 

It makes her heart ache, the slow realisation that she still cares so much about him, that there’s nothing that can take away from the once-in-a-life-time connection they found with each other.

She still needs to thank him. Dilara can’t say the words, though; it seems inadequate somehow, given the risk he took, the impulse to do something so unlike him. She reaches up and slowly brushes a lock of blond hair out of his eyes, touching the corner of his glasses. 

They’re close enough now, enough that she won’t take him by surprise. She hopes she’s right when she brings her other hand up and gently holds the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his soft, long hair.

Dilara gives Taehyung a moment to catch on, noting how he swallows and all traces of joking disappear, leaving only an almost childlike hope and vulnerability. Then, rising on her toes, she gently pulls his head down and presses her lips to his.

Like the time they reached their understanding of sorts in the kitchen, it takes him a moment to respond, almost as though he can’t quite believe this is real. Dilara waits until he kisses her back, tilting his head and leaning in, before opening her mouth. His lips part with a sigh and she wants to do the same - so familiar and addictive is his taste. His king hair tickles her cheek as his hands come up to hold her, gently and tentatively.

Taehyung’s lips are everything she remembers them being; soft, energetic, loving. It’s a slow, savouring kiss. With how unexpected it was, they simply take the time to reacquaint themselves. Dilara is glad, she thinks as they separate to catch their breath and she presses a last kiss to his lips before pulling away, for if it were anything more, she doesn't think she’d be able to stop herself.

Taehyung looks… overwhelmed. His lips are slightly swollen and he absently bites his lower lip, his eyes shining with ten times more hope and pleasant shock than the photoshoot earlier this week.

“Thanks,” she says softly, not specifying what for. Taking a step back and trying to ignore how her heart is zooming, she starts walking back to her room, still aware of him watching her go. Just when she reaches her door, she remembers something.

“Oh, and, uh…” This is awkward, and her heart thuds. Trying to be casual and shrug it off in the face of his motionless figure, she speaks once more. “You can… Dilara sounds a bit weird. Lara is fine.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)

[nerdylilpeebee]

Successful suicides are a product of impulsivity and easy access to lethal means, not greater distress. The fact that males die more from suicide is a natural consequence of their greater impulsivity and therefore tells us nothing about how much males suffer. I'm sorry if facts offend you.

....

It's not that this offends me, it's that you're just being stupid thinking that wanting to kill yourself and actually trying is not an indicator of a high level of suffering, regardless of how impulsive someone is or not. Impulsiveness means nothing about how much you're suffering.

Literally all it means is you're more likely to act upon your suicidal tendencies.

[sophiemariepl]

Don’t you guys have a feeling that House of the Dragon, for a series that officially and according to its own creators, is supposed to portray strong female characters and have a feminist message, terribly badly portrays female political figures?

Like, I’m sorry but main players in HotD are mostly men, not women 😞

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#1016

So I haven't actually seen SNW yet (TOS fan). I just learned that in SNW apparently they make Una Riley an augment and I really disagree with this decision. I think the character of Una being removed from TOS because of sexism was a huge injustice. Canonically in TOS women aren't even allowed to be captains too (Turnabout intruder episode establishes this). Because of this, in-universe, Una would be a historic figure really important to feminism, having such a high ranked position in those times. She would need to be very smart and determined too. Her being an augment reminds me of when a women succesful in sports always get accused of cheating, doping, using steroids etc, and women in chess accused of cheating, etc etc. As if """natural"" women couldn't achieve those things. If it was any other character I would think this is an interesting plot, but her specifically, giver her character's history, is a bad look.

[kflixnet]

Check out our member Angel's headcanons!

Skz Reactions: They're drunk

Author's Note: Double upload probably lol second one later today. This is inspired by my reaction of drunk reader x skz. Now we have it the other way around. Also, if you enjoy this, please check out my masterlist.

Synopsis: skz being drunk in the club. It gets messy.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, sex, hangovers, vomiting, twerking, insecurities, betting, running, sexism, fighting, cursing, and more.

Word Count: 2,802

Chan

You had been in the club for an hour at this point. You were taking it slow today because you often found yourself in front of toilets the day after drinking. It was draining to recover from being fully drunk. Chan, however, was drinking away like his life depended on it. He doesn't let loose often, so you let him have it. He seems happy and normal. He was holding conversation with you well.

"Baby do you wanna go get food after this?"

"Sure, we should get some Chinese food."

"Okay for sure. We can stop on the way home."

You laid against his shoulder as you sat next to him. It was a little chilly in here, but most people were dancing so that explains it. They probably had to keep the temperature down a little.

Chan suggests you go dance together. It was a good song on, so you entertained the idea. As you danced together, you got lost in the warmth that is Chan's arms. He was really trying his hardest to seem okay.

He was taking a backseat to your dancing; it was nice to be danced on every once in a while. He often felt like he had to dance with you, but you dancing for him was nice too. That's how you knew he must be at least tipsy; he was moving so slow.

Luckily, he was very cute when he was focusing. You ignored it for a while as you danced with him. He spun you around as you danced. It was fun to say the least; you were laughing and smiling as he continued.

You took a break to go to the bathroom, and you found him at the bar afterwards talking to Changbin about being a little too tipsy.

"Slow down on drinking then Chan. It's simple."

"Y/n doesn't like to drink alone."

"Well y/n is right behind you."

He turns and faces you.

"Chan you don't have to keep drinking to keep up with me. It's okay. I'm not trying to keep going either."

"Thank goodness. I was nervous to spin you earlier. I thought I wasn't gonna catch you." You laugh at him and hit his arm.

"Chan that would've been hilarious. I probably wouldn't have felt anything. My plans to not get super tipsy failed." You smiled at him before holding his hand. He shook his head knowing you both were gonna be tired tomorrow. Let's make the most of it at least. You pulled him up to dance again. Minho

You had lost Minho in the club approximately ten minutes ago. You sent Jisung to the bathroom, but he said he didn't see him in there. You checked the dance floor and around the bar. Where the hell did he go? You weren't sure why you let him drink. He always does this. You go get drinks for once instead of him then come back and he's gone. It is insane how often he does this. You walk outside just to check for him in the front of the club, but you are confused when you see a crowd of people. What is happening tonight? Suddenly you hear a countdown from 5 before Minho and some random guys run pass. Why is this always his party trick? He is drunk racing people on foot. Normally, Minho refuses to jog let alone run. When he was drunk though? It was the fun-est thing in the world, and he was the flash. It was the most ironically funny thing he does. "MINHO YOU BETTER FUCKING WIN!!" You scream at him which sounds like a cheer, but you were so serious. He left you to fucking race?? He better have placed a bet and be bringing some money home. Minho was zooming, not in a straight line, but quick, nonetheless. Other women and people were cheering on their partners. You felt like Minho deserved love/ encouragement like that too. "GO BABY GO!!" You yell. At the sound of your voice, he speeds up and past the finish line which was just the next corner. You practically jump out of your skin as you cheer. He collapses on the ground for a second to catch his breath. You jog to reach him and help him up. "You were so fast baby. I am impressed." "Was I? Did I win?" "Of course. You dusted them hoes. I love you." "Ah, I love you too. I'm tired though. I think it's time to go." Changbin

Changbin is convinced that getting drunk means going for a walk. Now you are outside with your dog walking with a drunk Changbin. He is so happy though. You have on his jacket, and he has on a light hoodie. He is drunk and warm enough already. You made him wear one, so he doesn't get a cold in the morning. He is going to be sick tomorrow, but it shouldn't be a cold. As you walk the neighborhood, you often stop for your dog to smell things or to pee. He pooped earlier, so he shouldn't have to go again. You bought him along solely for Changbin's entertainment. He was constantly talking to him. "Bo are you okay?" Bo was so happy with Changbin. He was jumping on Changbin's legs any chance he gets. Changbin ends up carrying him as you guys' approach town. You consider turning around, but Changbin sets down Bo. "I'm glad we came this way. I need some food. I'm going in the store really fast." Before you could disagree, he is gone into the store. You sigh and sit on the side of the road to wait. What does being drunk do to Changbin that he has to always walk to the store? The air doesn't even sober him up. He comes back out with a bag full of snacks and sits next to you. "I got you some stuff too." Oh? You smile and kiss his cheek. "Thank you, baby. You're so sweet. I love you." "I love you too. You should look at what I got." He passes you the bag. You look inside and he got you your favorites. Including the soda that you could rarely ever find.

"Aw bin you remembered the soda! Let's go home quickly. I need this, and you need to sober up. Maybe we can take a bath."

"Together?" He questioned, getting up and helping you as well. You nod and hold his hand as you walk home together. Hyunjin

Hyunjin was confident. Always. He just considered himself to be okay at everything. He didn't think much was beyond his reach. You being included. He had made it a mission to have you. You didn't know Hyunjin well. Just being cordial with each other often. You never expected to be here in a club with him drinking fruity, mixed drinks. "Do you come out often?" He asks taking a shot and washing it down with the mixed drink. Liquor and a liquor chaser? Different. "No. I don't have many friends who still go clubbing. They're either married or have children." He sighs as he shakes his head. "At this age? Young marriage and parenting are not something I want to do. I want to have fun while I still can you know?" He took another shot, and you did too just to feel included. "Yeah, I understand the feeling. I want to do spontaneous shit." You confess to him as you watch him closely. You could almost see the flames in his eyes. "Spontaneous, eh?" He smirks and raises an eyebrow. "Yes, take a trip last minute, kiss a stranger, try a new restaurant across town for dinner." You inform him of all the thoughts you had on what spontaneous things you consider doing. "Kiss a stranger, huh? Like me?"

"Yeah. You're pretty why no-" His lips crashed into yours before you could finish the thought.

You were caught off guard, but you made-out with him, nonetheless. He was so passionate when he kissed you. You could taste the alcohol on his tongue. You wanted to pull back so bad, but you couldn't. Eventually, he pulls away and smirks. "I would keep going but I actually want to remember our first-time having sex. I'm too drunk, but how about you call me tomorrow?" Jisung

You arrived at the club late. You had broken your heel on the way to the club and ran back home to change. Since the shoes went with the outfit, it took you a while to find a whole new outfit. Jisung didn't seem to mind. He greeted you happily. "Hi my baby. My lover." He held you closely. "Hi Sung. What are you drinking?" You ask softly. You could smell the liquor on his breath. It smelt rather fruity. "Felix and I took some peach schnapps shots!" Jisung admitted. Sooo he was drunk already? "How many shots? I got to catch up." "Ten" Huh? Ten?! It's only been an hour? Who the hell let them take ten shots? "CHAN!" You yell trying to go find him. Jisung clinged to you as if his life depended on it. Every step you took he was right there holding your waist still. "Chan!" You yell as you see lots of people in his booth. "Hmm? What's up y/n?" He questioned.

"How could you let Jisung and Felix take ten shots already?" You ask. He laughs and shakes his head.

"I am not the babysitter tonight. Everyone is grown and can manage themselves. I am getting drunk as well."

You sigh and head back to the bar. You had a few drinks as you talk with Jisung. "Do you not like me?" Jisung questioned. "No, I do like you, Ji. I love you." "Good... do you want to dance?" You both go to dance as he smiles. He was glad you were having fun and he could be himself right now. He loved being close to you, but the only time he felt completely comfortable to do that was when he was drunk. Felix

You were nervous when you saw how much Felix was drinking. He can handle his liquor sure but mixing dark and light liquors? You never do that. It was too late for that by the time you see him taking the shots. It is his birthday, and he is indeed an adult. You shouldn't be babying him and watching his drinks. It worried you still though. enough to stop drinking for the night. You kept a close eye on Felix because he was slowing down. He had taken too many drinks and was starting to just dance. You danced with him, but he eventually got tired of that. It became too much for him, and he felt like he was spinning. "Jagiya, I need to sit down for a minute. I don't feel the best." You guided him to the booth you rented out and sat with him. He laid his head on the cold table as you rubbed his back. "I was nervous you would start feeling sick from mixing liquors." He didn't acknowledge you at all just remained laying down with his eyes closed. He turned his head to face the other way, and you noticed he started to vomit. It was so bad. Everything came up. It was on the table, the floor, and some got on his pants. He was passed out though. "Lix. Lix! Are you ok to move?" You question but get no response. You clean up the mess and his pants as best you could. The guys help you clean and get some water for Felix in case he wakes up. He does not end up getting up. Chan helps you carry him outside to take you both home. "Thank you, Chan, for taking us home and carrying Lix. I couldn't have done this without you." You smile at him. "It's no problem. Tell Felix to call us tomorrow. He didn't even open any of his gifts before blacking out." Chan says as he arrives to your house. He helps you both inside and makes sure Felix is in bed before leaving. Let's just say Felix was never drinking light and dark liquor again. Seungmin

You were comfortable with Seungmin as you guys took shots at the bar and danced at the bar. You had ordered some chips and other bread related things to hopefully soak up some of the liquor while you guys drunk. It worked pretty well for you because you actually enjoyed them. Seungmin ate very few not enjoying the taste. It was understandable, but he was for sure going to be drunk. You were still trying not to get taken care of and tonight it was finally going to happen. You were gonna take care of Seungmin because he is drunk. Or so you thought. You had taken shot after shot and Seungmin wasn't showing any signs of needing care. He was singing his heart away as you and the guys all danced with him. You only knew he was drunk when a dance song came on. Every dance song, he would twerk on you. You were entertained to say the least. You would smack his butt sometimes just to hype him up.

"Damn Minnie. Your butt is very soft." He blushed at your compliment, taking it to his head.

Eventually, he was just throwing it back to every song. The guys weren't helping either. They were also hyping him and touching his butt, mainly Hyunjin and Minho. You finally convinced him to relax and that is when he agrees to have some water and bread. Even though you didn't have to take care of him too much you got some good videos. He will be embarrassed tomorrow when he sees how long he slowly threw it back. You just couldn't find the heart to stop his fun. Also, he looked so cute and small when he was doing it. Jeongin

You decided to drink some shots while at the club with Jeongin. He often found himself too litty, and you decided to sober up early today because he was going to be a lot to handle. "Y/n do you love me?" He questions as he looks at you. He appeared so sad.

"Yes, I love you, Innie. Why do you ask? Are you okay?"

"I just feel like you aren't happy with me sometimes. I just want to love you the way you want and deserve to be loved. I don't want you to leave me." He is tearing up as he holds your hands.

You smile and pout. "Innie... I won't leave you I promise. I love you too much to leave you. You are doing your best, and I feel very loved by you."

"You do?" He questions, looking up into your eyes with glossed over and tear-filled eyes.

"Of course. Don't overthink so much handsome." You hold his head to your chest as you rub his back. No one needed to see him this upset. He must be drunk. Normally, Jeongin does not express many emotions besides happiness and fake anger.

You stay holding him for a while even as you sip from your drink. He sniffles as he holds onto you. He felt calmer now, and he was grateful you reassured him.

You both were relaxing as someone started to shit-talk Jeongin next to you. 'That's embarrassing.. to cry in public as a man? He can't be that weak can he?' Jeongin lifted his head from you and wiped his eyes and nose with a tissue before standing up.

You follow Jeongin as you both approach the people talking shit. "Got anything you wanna say directly to me?" Jeongin asks. He leans down to be their height as he glares at them. They lean up to get in Jeongin's face.

"Yeah you're a weak-" They don't get to finish their sentence because Jeongin punched them in the face. They fall back into their girlfriend who tries to say something, but you smack her.

"Think again before you say those minuscule, sexist opinions. Okay?" You tell them. "Or we will smack you again."

You both walk away feeling less angry and holding hands. The couple who was once comfortable talking shit sat in silence. They were shocked as they both held one side of their face. Jeongin had sobered up a little by that point. He kissed your cheek.

"Thank you for defending my honor m'lady. I love you even though I was indeed a drunk, emotional mess."

"Yes, but you are my drunk and emotional mess. I would do it all again if it meant I was defending you." You cuddled up to him as you exited the club.

Taglist: @kflixnet@l-luvr @lino-jagiyaa 🐶 @moonmukamiamajiki 🤍 @kpflyn [comment to join my taglist]

[imawitchywitch]

I have worked at two organizations that helped DV/SA survivors, so I wanted to make a post so if you or a friend god forbid gets r-worded, you know what to do.

You can either call 911 if having emergency personnel on the scene is needed, or take yourself to the hospital. Getting the paramedics and police support may actually be preferable so they can assess the situation, gather evidence, and they will know to take you to whichever hospital has a SANE nurse, but also fuck the police. Step 1: get to a hospital as soon as possible!

You or the emergency personnel will then let the emergency room staff know you need to see the SANE nurse, and an advocate from your local organization. Getting medical attention and support is the most important thing!

The advocate will then support you throughout that whole process, inform you of your rights and options, and assist you in doing a r*pe kit and filing a report if you choose to do so. It’s a lot and traumatizing, but the more evidence the better.

You choose what to do next! Obviously getting mental health support ASAP is vital, and there are support groups and providers for that! You can also file for victim’s compensation payments from your state to help pay for any and all related expenses, even moving and legal expenses, so please DO NOT avoid medical and mental health support if cost is the main concern. Your wellbeing is more important than stupid bills you can fight later on, and the advocates will have that information and all the available resources!

These are traumatizing times, but we do have procedures and resources to help each other when needed! Stock up on Plan B and whatever else that will help you sleep better at night!

[astro-b-o-y-d]

Picking up on season three of my RvB rewatch today. Feel like Wyoming's supposed to show up soon-ish, but I also feel like that he's still a season or so away.

[elitehanitje]

Inside the WWE: ‘A Kingdom Ruled by Fear’

Six former writers for the organization’s long-running shows, SmackDown! and Monday Night RAW, describe bullying and sexism that occurred behind the scenes while former CEO Vince McMahon was in charge.

The six writers who used to work at WWE tell Rolling Stone they regularly witnessed or were on the receiving end of verbal abuse. They say the allegedly hostile conditions permeated not just the writers' room but the company in general, whether at the corporate headquarters in Stamford, Connecticut or when the organization’s TV shows filmed on the road. The former writers say staffers seemed to be divided into two camps: those who were WWE loyalists and only had experience working at McMahon’s company, and newcomers with outside experience in the entertainment industry who immediately realized the WWE was unlike any other workplace they’d seen.

“Everybody was getting yelled at all the time in the room,” one former writer says. “It was more saying shit that was humiliating or mean [that was then] couched as a joke, but it’s a nasty joke.” The writer adds, “If you’re being targeted in the room, nobody stands up for you, but that’s because if they do, they will get the bullet in the head, too. You don’t stick your head out of the foxhole for anybody, because nobody wants to take a bullet.”

Tales of inappropriate behavior within WWE go back a long way, and this piece only adds to that, from a hostile work environment to sexism. McMahon was ousted as CEO of the company earlier this year after former WWE employee Janel Grant filed a lawsuit alleging she was sexually assaulted and trafficked by McMahon. He remains under federal investigation.

[restitutor-orbis]

It is concerning how misogynistic the ASOIAF fandom has become. Like, I thought it fairly understandable that the only reason why the Dance even occurred in the first place was due to Westerosi misogyny and Hightower ambition. It had nothing to do with Rhaenyra's own ability to rule, but everything to invalidate her rule based on her being a woman. Like, this is a clear criticism that Martin raises throughout the books, and he wants the readers to question why should women be refused the right to their inheirtance.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Brave New World: Part 12

A/N: Trigger warnings for mentions of misogyny, sexism towards women, forceful confinement

It was the sharp cry that pierced the dark wing that had initially woken you up. It was a sharp and startling sound that broke you from your slumber, drawing you upright in your bed with a sudden jolt.

Immediately, you reached for the sides of your bed and curled your fingers in the sheets as a method to ground yourself. To hold yourself to the thin and old mattress, one with springs that were poking through your equally thin nightgown.

You have recently been thrown into a new yet seemingly endless, hellish environment. The move from a private room to the shared room was necessary to make space for another influx of omegas who had been brought to the facility.

Through the thin walls of the shared women’s ward you were thrown into, it was glaringly obvious that some pregnant omegas, used as surrogates and breeding machines, had given birth early.

There was an urgency to give birth before the due date, a necessity to try to save both mother and child from a fate that was unfair for both of them, however, the child would fare much better than she would.

“Shut up! Shut up!” One of the other omegas on this crowded floor raised her voice harshly, caring neither for the other woman in another room nor the consequences that would come to the poor mother.

You reacted quickly and threw the blankets off you, stumbling and falling to your hand and knees due to the process of them administering more drugs to your body. As your knees and hands had banged against the creaky wood, another sharp cry had been heard through the walls of this place.

Your weariness had made you crawl, initially, and as you traversed your way to the next rows of beds, that same woman screamed again, thrashing against the holds that kept her in place.

You could see her struggling, the latest douse of serum altering her brain chemistry and inducing temporary psychosis. Despite her aggression toward the mother and child in the birthing unit, you wished the other omega luck on getting past this debilitation. You knew full well that if she hadn’t recovered from this aftereffect, she would have been thrown into one of the many pleasure houses and used as a toy.

If she hadn’t recovered, she would be discarded as if she was nothing more than a heat receptacle for alphas.

“Please, you have to be quite. Please, if you don’t they’ll come down on all of us!”

There was a steady thud of her back against the bed as she violently rocked herself back and forth, creating her own despotism hold of her world as she saw it. She was so far in her head and in her madness created by this last bout of the serum, she hadn’t realized that rocking back and forth as violently as she had would create more hell for you all.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” She screamed three more times before another omega had risen to her feet, stumbling just as you had, and started toward the bed.

With the one omega woman behind dealt with, you felt secure enough to rise to your feet after reaching for one of the rails of the metal bed. Your hands gripped the end of the footboard, and you slowly pushed yourself to stand, your legs and feet aching to the point where it felt like they were burning.

Still, despite the aching in your bones, you pushed yourself further. You took every step cautiously, fearing that at any point one of the guards would come for you, for all of you, to deliver swift punishment. It wasn’t just you that would suffer for being out of bed, rather harsh consequences would come to every omega.

Even those that were sleeping.

“Shut that thing up!” there were hurried whispers in the room that followed an outburst, the direct order coming from the oldest omega in the room and focused on the woman in a mental break. “Shut her up, or we’ll all get it!”

You paid no mind to the order and focused on getting out of the room you were in, to head to the birthing ward. While you had known the door would be locked and access was denied to you and anyone else in the room, you also knew that one of the panels on the left-hand side of the wall was fabricated and easy to remove.

With the thinness of the walls and this falsified covering, you could easily slip from one room to another, and once you’d gotten to the other room you could help the omega who just gave birth. Or at least you could attempt to help, you could attempt to console her and her child, make an effort to extend what little kindness you could while being trapped here.

“I said shut her up!” The oldest omega yelled again, her voice carrying as you removed the panel and began to slip into the crawl space, keeping yourself as small as possible in order to make your way from one room to the other.

A shiver ran up your spine when your feet hit the other panel, the cold metal piercing your skin through the soles of your feet. The sensation was temporary, it had evaporated the moment you kicked the panel loose and managed to pull yourself through, coming into the other room.

You struggled to stand, a shake to your knees and thighs had almost made you tumble back to the floor, your hand already outstretched before you caught yourself.

The newborn was hastily wrapped in a thin blanket, squirming and still squawking with a great set of lungs that would have aided a career in entertainment further down their life. You had heard the omegas in the other room struggling to stop the maddened omega from raising too much of a complaint while this poor woman had just given birth.

Your approach was slow and calculated. You didn’t dare try to cause another sound to alert the betas and controlled alphas who ran this facility. You were already on their radar, already someone they wanted to study and watch, an omega who they had wanted to get rid of.

“Please,” she pleaded with you, simpering soft voice almost a wail, “they’ll take my baby. If they hear…”

The chirp of an alarm somewhere else in the facility prickled your skin, your stomach bubbling with unease and caution.

“Shh,” she rocked her child, her eyes wide and her lips parted with every attempt at quieting her child, “please…please-!”

“You’re a breeder,” you already knew she was and yet, it felt as if this reality was just hitting you, “they’re supposed to be coming for you but-”

“— I gave birth early, without medication. Without-”

Your heart nearly leapt from your chest as another bang had resounded somewhere in the building, a ghostly echo of something nefarious happening somewhere else. You stepped closer to her, hands shaking and your eyes growing wide in size, unable to truly think or react to what was going on around you.

Women, omegas, restrained to beds with what had once been softened cuffs but had now become rough, were lining the room from one end to the next. They were laying on nothing more than tufts of stuffing bound in thin canvas, a state that even cattle wouldn’t be permitted to lay on.

“They’ll take my baby, help me.” The omega was whimpering, and it wasn’t until now that you’d realized she was weakened by giving birth.

It hadn’t been until that moment that you’d even been aware that she was bleeding. The tang of copper hits your nose, mixing disgustingly with the smell of mildew and stale dust.

“You’re dying.” You crept closer and sank to your knees beside her bed, your hands curling against the cheap canvas bed. “You don’t have time.”

“Take my baby,” she turned to look at you, eyes losing their light and her breathing becoming shallow, “don’t let them have her. Don’t let her fall to the fate.”

“I can’t, don’t give her to me. I can’t take her. I can’t keep her, I can’t-” you stumbled over your words, fumbling as you tried to speak and make your case for not taking the child, for not taking the baby to be punished.

“Find someone, please promise me-” the babe was pushed into your arms, instincts leading you to cradle the child, and with a purpose thrust upon you, you rose to your feet and balanced tenderly.

“Thank you, Y/N. You,” the omega heaved, desperately fighting for breath, “you’re my family…my sister-”

Hours bled into days, and days had shifted into the next week.

While your heat had come and gone, while you had been marked and mated, you had never let go of the expectation that you would become pregnant. It was what you had been altered to do, to become a vessel for pups to boost the population that was faltering.

Whether it was this reality or the one you had escaped from, the result was the same. Your body and your DNA, your every genome, was geared toward fertility and pregnancy.

Even now, you could feel it.

Even now, only a week after you had been marked and mated, you knew your body was flush with life. You had narily placed your hand upon your belly, still unaffected by your growing child, and knew you were expecting.

If it hadn’t been the nesting you had done when you expressed your anxiety about being a mother, to the empathy of your mates, then this would have been every indication that it had happened.

Your stomach turned once, just once, and your sense of smell had increased with the changes in your body, and you knew. It was obvious, it was painstakingly clear that you were now doing what they had always intended you to do, only now it was by your choice.

Now, you have the decision to keep the child while in a safe and loving environment.

It’s the soft rapping on the door that audibly announces their presence on the other side of the door, but it’s hardly the first indicator that they were going to find you. With your new heightened senses, already increased from the serum before you were pregnant, you already knew.

It was their scent that carried, it was the sounds they made as they walked around and throughout the cabin. It was the soft mumbling of Bucky as he reiterated his annoyance and temporarily forgetting where he put things, and Steve whispering to himself as he sketched or painted.

You could hear it all; you could smell every shifting difference in the cabin.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve was the first to speak, the first to come and sit beside you.

You had negated to look at him immediately. Instead, you curled tighter on the outdoor chaise, tucking the blanket you took up and under your feet. You pressed yourself against the back of the lounger before you tucked your chin into your chest, and then you spoke.

“I’ve been thinking. A lot.” You spoke to them, addressing Steve verbally, and Bucky physically.

“Are you okay?” Steve was on your right, Bucky was on your left, both had been figuratively shielding you from a nonexistent threat. “Omega-“

“I’m pregnant.” Stagnant silence, unwavering quietude and the bubbling intensifying gleam of hopefulness and want had clashed in the middle, as if two beasts had represented the two sides of an emotional state of mind, with teeth and claws.

“Y/N,” Bucky crept in, a smile bursting on his face with eyes wide and vibrantly pulsing, “omega…this is everything we’ve ever wanted, this…”

Their happiness was unbounded. Their dreams of becoming fathers and having an omega was finally and wholly a completed reality. Puzzle pieces that hadn’t been set had finally clicked into place, with everything they’d wished and longed for becoming theirs.

There was a short time between you three wherein Bucky and Steve had let their raw emotions out to air, their happiness and loving statements settling upon you like the warmth of the sun and the soft breeze of summer.

It was further removing the corrupted chill you felt had been running through your veins, extinguishing the final clutch the organization, that wanted to make you a possession, had on you.

With Steve and Bucky, you were freed. Your baby was safe, your baby would grow up happy and healthy in a world that cherished it.

And you.

“I want this, I’ve decided. I want this baby, but…” you bit down on your bottom lip, teeth digging into your flesh while your eyes had become instructed by fat tears. “You may want to get that.”

The phone rang clear through your ears, a sharp yet melodic chime breaking the conversation, and you waited with bated breath as Steve walked to his phone and picked up the call, eyes locked on you.

“Cap,” Sam’s voice hit your ears, and you knew, “we need you back here.”

[ramveins]

As much as I am an omegaverse defender/enjoyer/writer, sometimes I wonder whether or not the trope of demonising "illegal suppressants" (specifically separate from birth control) in fics is supposed to come off as analogous to the fear mongering surrounding DIY hormones on purpose, or if it's all just one big coincidence and that's why no one ever tags a warning for it?

[bonefall]

I'm trying to do my own rewrite that doesn't veer too far from canon, and I'm really struggling with how to handle Tigerstar and Sasha. I think Hawk and Moth being half kittypet contributes to their characters in fun ways, and I can see how Tigerstar would want new heirs after being banished from ThunderClan. But idk why xenophobic Tiger would consort with a kittypet, especially someone he'd see as soft like Sasha, when he could've picked a Shadow or RiverClan cat instead? Any thoughts?

You may find my Political Union Concept very helpful for your Sasha dynamic, but I actually get this particular sentiment a lot. People who come to me feeling like they have to work out a problem, "Why does this xenophobic person consort with this member of an outsider group?"

And I don't understand the confusion. Bigotry isn't a principle. Bigoted people don't avoid talking to minorities like a vegan avoids bacon, like it's a meaningful, noble choice. Xenophobes think minorities are inferior and subhuman and that looks like a lot of different things.

(CW: Talking candidly about bigotry, racism, xenophobia, and violence against minority groups. This includes several real-world examples. I also speak about an abusive relationship in a way that could be triggering.)

Bigots interact abusively with the people they're prejudiced against, which CAN look like the "classic" frothing nazi hurling slurs, segregation, and denial of service, yes, but there's a lot of different ways to be abusive.

It can be Exploitative. It can be labor exploitation, it can be human trafficking. It's very easy to justify doing inhuman acts to someone you don't see as human, and worse... when society agrees and is equally bigoted? It becomes very easy to isolate a member of a minority group to groom them for this exploitation, and not face justice for your misdeeds.

There's a massive power imbalance between a person like Tigerstar, a political figurehead, and Sasha, a member of a minority group unprotected by the society's laws. The potential for abuse, isolation, exploitation... it's unfathomable. Sasha is in a deeply dangerous situation; Tigerstar knows that. That's probably what he wants.

Personhood is a privilege her abuser can revoke. I can't capture how terrifying this situation would be realistically.

I often get the original sentiment in the form of, "Why did Tigerstar work with Scourge when he's a xenophobe? He wouldn't want his help!" and... I think this sort of question that should prompt its speaker to do some more personal education on social justice issues. Racists, colonists, xenophobes, and chauvinists are constantly doing this.

Why do xenophobes eat fruit knowing a migrant probably picked it? Because they don't care. Why do sexists hire women? Because they want the labor. Why does Sammy Racism buy product from Company X when he SEES it is owned by a minority? That's the cheapest company.

Why did Tigerstar work with BloodClan? Because they would give him the forest. He probably didn't even plan on giving them what he bargained for.

The minute that Scourge defied him, and said, "I need to rethink these terms in light of new information," Tigerstar flipped the fuck out and tried to kill him for disobedience. He never respected his personhood, or Firestar's, or Sasha's. Ever. That doesn't mean he was physically incapable of interacting with them without slurs bubbling out of him like he was possessed by the ghost of a racism-themed pokemon.

I know it can be easy to imagine bigots being like this chucklefuck who won't climb rainbow stairs, because they are VERY funny and laughing at them is EXTREMELY satisfying, but most bigots will just Take The Rainbow Stairs.

So ASK yourself, instead, what the xenophobic character actually wants. What they can get from this relationship. Sometimes they do want to eradicate the minority group. Sometimes they want power first and will use the group they're bigoted against to get it. Sometimes they want labor. Sometimes they want bodies. Sometimes they want goods. Sometimes the see those last two as the same thing.

Clear your mind of this idea that prejudice itself is rational, logical, or even that bigots have consistent beliefs. Prejudice is a bias, a slimy bucket of contradictory ideas that slide against each other like worms. Bigots and minorities aren't pop rocks and coke, chemically incapable of being in a space without exploding. Minorities live in bigoted societies next to people who hate them their whole lives, it's not so simple as "Xenophobic character = Says no to disliked group."

[jackriverart]

It's almost funny to me that the new ATLA show manages to be *more* sexist by trying to avoid the sexism in the original.

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#405

"I usually really like gender-bend fics in other fandoms as usually it's an exploration of how a story might change if the character is female or male in the same situations but in Star Trek I've noticed gender-bend fics, particularly male to female gender-bends, seem to be more about self-insert purposes. The biggest character I notice this with is Kirk who when gender-bent becomes overly emotional and defenseless in order for Spock or McCoy to swoop in and save her. If I wanted to read McCoy×reader or Spock×reader I would but I'd really rather read about how being a female would change Kirk's life in situations like Tarsus or how being a female would change people's veiw of Kirk's flirty and promiscuous behavior that's respected as a man but might be vilified as a woman.

Kirk literally doesn't even meet his son until the guys 20 and you think being a female just makes it biologically imperative that she raise whatever McCoy or Spock hybrid comes out? Jane/Jamie/Jasmine/whatever her name is would 100% get an abortion or adopt that kid out if the other option was losing the Enterprise, sorry, not sorry. Whatever Carol's male counterpart is, he's still going to raise David by himself.

Genderbend as I've experienced it has always been about exploring gender rolls and expectations and subverting them on occasion not how Spock would cradle your (sorry Kirk's) face while comforting you (sorry Kirk) from what the mean Admiral, who you're (sorry Kirk's) more then capable of telling to screw off, said to you (sorry Kirk).

I read gender-bend fics to break the status quo so the fact that Star Trek of all fandoms writes gender-bends that reinforce traditionalists values...wasn't it."