although this is like literally her only one ever

Solstice | Sehun

Genre: Fantasy ; reallymild!Angst ; ahintof!Fluff

Description: Tied to the skies. In a constant persecution with time. More than five centuries ago had been their last time together. She remembered. He did not. He thought she resembled starlight. For her, he was time. There’s a beginning to every end and this was theirs. Their own little solstice.

Word Count: 3315

Author’s Note: Hello there °^° So I’ve been dying to do this for so long, I cri Y^Y But yay, I did it. Now, the thing is, for this specific oneshot I have not given any name to the OC/main character because..well that’s how it went so far lmao, so this can certainly be read as SehunXReader only that it’s in third person. I’m also planning on continuing it (well more like the prequel) so I really hope you e n j o y *^*

Her reflection, she realized. She had changed.

No longer was her hair that deep indigo velvet, delicately curled at the tips which at that time had appeared much more brighter under the light, as if set ablaze in incandescent blue fire. It now flowed in quite blinding waves of white or a yellow so light that seemed to not be there at all. It looked much shorter, too, as it used to reach down to her abdomen but now ended a quite some inches above her ribcage, where fiery blue ends met the pristine white of her uniform.

Style, she remembered Ha-Jun lecturing her so long ago she could barely recall, changed through the epochs, and so would she.

“So this is normal,” she mumbled in amusement, not only at her outlandish hair (not that she could get more outlandish) but also at the bizarre attire that seemed to barely cover her– she’d very much gotten used to the traditional hanbok.

Granted, she had had some not-so-very-enjoyable experiences regarding her appearance before, now she couldn’t help but be wary. It seemed to her almost being thrown into a dungeon to be studied for eternity for having the slightest hint of blue on her seemingly mundane black hair hadn’t been enough, for she now carried, in a way, her personal neon sign that simply screamed ‘look, I’m not normal’.

Though as she stepped away from the mirror, startled by the restroom door being suddenly oppened, her jaw gave away her utter amusement as it slacked wide open.

Stars, it actually is normal! She thought upon seeing the approaching girl’s bright pink hair. She couldn’t hide her shock. Oh, how times had changed!

Pinky looked at her from the corner of her eye, applying some lip tint as she did so, and she forced her mouth shut and rushed out from the stall.

Everything looked so very much different it pained her. She didn’t know why, it just did. Perhaps she’d been expecting things to be the same. Perhaps, over it all, she expected him to be the same.

With a sharp intake of air, she returned to what she’d been doing the last hours. Hopes crumbling ever so slightly every step she took, realizing there couldn’t possibly be a way he’d stayed the same. Perhaps if it’d been a century. But more than five hundred years undoubtedly would have to change a person.

She frowned at the thought. No, he hadn’t changed. He’d died and been reborn, as every creature on Earth had done so at least once. Not that she had much knowledge about that, only what Ha-Jun had told her the times they’d met. That every human was bound to die; their body’s to perish, but their soul to remain. That there was someone to decide upon them, to assign a waiting period for, what should be right to call, reincarnation. And that every hundred years or so they’d be able to return down to the earth that saw them grow and then not.

Only that she had had to wait more than a century for that to happen.

She’d lost count after the fifth.

But now she stood there under that very same sky and that’s all that mattered. Perhaps it was the only thing that hadn’t changed, the sky, with its gorgeous hues of blues and greys and whites. And with the astonishing shades of everything and all that could graze its ever flowing canvas.

Indeed, the sky appeared to be the only that hadn’t changed after all those years. Yes, she had spent five centuries with her mind and heart wired to the ground yet it hadn’t been long enough for her to realize the way her, as she called it, ‘second home’ was transformed.

People walked upright (no longer were their heads lowered as symbol of reverence), she noticed, no one seemed to hold any sort of superior power as to be treated with due respect– although surely there seemed to be some that weren’t taken so lightly, she assumed they were higher scholars of some sort. There was no one to call “Majesty” either, or “Empress”– they called themselves bizarre names she’d never heard before. Certainly, their clothing wasn’t like anything she remembered, nothing she could imagine. And the buildings, ever eccentric, seemed out of that world– well, at least the world she had come to know– rigid and impecable as she crossed something she’d heard being called ‘campus’.

Judging from the number of youth that strode through the area, she could only help but assume she was walking through some form of educational institution.

She smiled in realization. His dreams had seemed to follow through all those centuries. His undying wish for learning was still there. Maybe he hadn’t changed much.

And so she carried out her route, hoping to see the one she’d been waiting for the longest. It often felt as if she’d been waiting for him her whole life. Part of her realized she shouldn’t be too naive and reprimanded herself for it. He had left her once– well, she had but that didn’t change the situation the slightest bit. She knew she had to leave, she must. She was bound to it, either way. But the opportunity had been given to her and she had not let it pass. Knowing the pain that will cause her to eventually leave, she had not let it pass.

But now she stood there in the very earth she once met more than five centuries ago and realized that there was the unbearable possibility of him not recognizing her. Of course, he wouldn’t. She silently cursed at herself, stopping by a big pannel of recently polished glass that held her reflection. She looked different. Not quite, but different. She’d grown a couple of inches taller and appeared the slightest bit slimmer. Her facial features, in a way, portrayed innocence. Puffy cheeks remained from those years ago, still dusted by a light shade of pink. Her lips seemed just a tad bit fuller, however, and the skin under her bottom line lash had become more noticeable, as if to accentuate purity. Her eyes had changed a bit, too, though for her it made the biggest difference– apart from her hair, that is. They had become less sharper, much wider. Light brown irises with green accents now replaced deep browns that once leant towards black.

But no, her appearance was not the only reason he could have forgotten her. Indeed it wasn’t, for it was as if he’d never known her in the first place. He’d been reborn and that’s all there was to it. He wasn’t born with memories from his previous live, he couldn’t have, he shouldn’t. And she knew that for a fact.

Yet it didn’t matter. She’d been waiting for him for more than five hundred years and she wouldn’t back down now that she could feel him so close by. Those years she’d waited, days broken into hours, hours broken into minutes, minutes into seconds, had all been worth it. It’s as if all that time had only been leading to this moment, to him. As if the only force on the earth and the sky and the stars had had as its sole purpose to run the hands of the ever ticking clock of her life that would carry her to him.

She saw it as so sickeningly sweet, her longing for him. And she hurt, too. She had loved him, with all that she was and would be, she had. For as long as the stars above could live, she had. But the sacrifice she’d made for him had been too much. She wondered what it would have been like if she had been more greedy. If she’d let herself have her way for once. If she hadn’t had to follow the rules that tied her up to the sky.

Perhaps she would have regretted it. And as much as she sometimes felt that she’d been the only one to sacrifice something– to sacrifice him, she knew that was in no way the truth. She had sacrificed herself for him, gone as far as to risk her life but she knew if she had the chance she would have done it again, over and over. And it gave her a sense of pride, too, because she knew it hadn’t entirely been for him but for her too.

And her. She hadn’t forgotten her either, she still remembered. How could she have not, when it was her who had began all of it. Who had granted her, instead of the other way around, one of her uttermost wishes. Who had allowed her to meet him. And who had also, in a way, taken him away from her. It had never bred any kind of rencor, however. She had loved her– she still did, and known she could make him happy. And she had. And that had only made her feel she’d made the right choice.

But now, she realized. Now that there wasn’t anyone whom she’d have to serve, now that she wasn’t– not literally, although she still, in a way, was– tied to the heavens, could she be a bit more greedy?

A moving blur on the mirror suddenly caught her attention. For a moment she thought she saw someone similar to him. What had she got to lose? She followed that person– well, followed his traces. Her eyes couldn’t see clearly. The ever growing crowd. The blazing sun. The anticipation that traveled through her veins as she took each step.

One. Now, she’d begun to count. Two. Like all those years of waiting. Three. Her steps toward him. Four. It seemed as if she’d only done that, count the timeless distance, measure the ticking clock, for the day they meet again. Five. How long could it take, she didn’t know. Six. Perhaps as long as those centuries. Seven. It appeared her life was long to be dictated and thorned by time as she tried to escape it. Eight. Or was it reach for it?

Whichever it was, she was now running. Fifty. Maybe it was not about time. A hundred. Neither was she fleeing nor pursuing. Two hundred. She knew it’d take thousands of centuries to reach her end. Three hundred. Perhaps… Five hundred. It was all about hi–

She almost fell into place as a thight grip tugged at her wrist and pulled her off into wherever.

“Who are you and why are you following me?”

She looked up, startled, a current of searing fire, hotter than any star, scorching her ever so lightly from the inside out. Her face paled notably and despite the burning sensation that had become of her, her skin remained cold to her except the part that connected to his.

Oh Sehun. Have you been waiting too?

He hadn’t chaged much, she realized, as he held her– knowing, too, that even if he had she would have been able to recognize him either way. Sehun was like the kind of people you’ll never forget. The kind of people you’ll never want to forget. He was light, he was air. He could be darkness, too; she’d found so about him and it had been frightening the way his eyes reflected what laid in the very depths of him. He was time.

Time. Centuries. That he was. He was each and every second it took for the heavens to bring him back to her, for her to find her way to him. He was everything that was worth to be there that very moment. He was the gentle grip he kept on her wrist that managed to wake her up after centuries of numbness and cold. Because at the end, he was still, him.

“So?” He demanded a response. And her heart swelled content because he hadn’t changed much. He appeared to be of the same height, however, his skin seemed to glow the lightest shade of golden, no longer was it a pearly white. Raven black hair had been replaced with a warm yellow, much like gold, and she realized it had been those wild black locks of his that had made his skin look much paler. His eyes seemed brighter, too, like clear tides from the ocean and though it seemed a bit artificial (causing her to wonder which type of artifact could transform the color of your eyes), she couldn’t help but gawk in adoration at how breathtakingly beautiful he was.

“Wait, why are you crying?”

Because I found you.

The rigidness behind his voice seemed to vanish as concern occupied it, only causing her to silently sob on the back of her hand.

“Look, you were the one who was following me, I don’t understand why you find yourself the victim here,” he reasoned, though he looked as guilty as he felt for making a girl he’d never met before cry. He didn’t notice, but his thumb began to unconsciously rub faint circles on the back of her wrist– which he had yet to release– as to sooth her.

Feeling it, she drew her hand back, a bit too harshly, causing an apologetic expression to reach his features. She couldn’t get too comfortable, too close. She knew she’d have to leave eventually. It’d happened before. But what if it doesn’t now? What if you’re a bit greedy?

She shook the thoughts away and inhaled deeply, later to smile as radiantly as she could. “I’m not crying, see?”

It’d just been a few words and Sehun could not understand why his pulse, though just the slightest, had picked up so suddenly. He cracked a smile, “Well, it didn’t much look like that just now.”

“That has already passed, you can forget now” she said. The words weighed down on her, there was something obscure about them, perhaps reality dripping from them like venom, causing a sour taste at the back of her throat.

He frowned, but chuckled. Stars, how she’d missed that. “How can you forget something that just began?”

She shaked her head, white locks flowing from side to side. “You can’t, that’s true. But it didn’t begin. It ended. That’s why you must forget.”

In a way, she did want him to forget what had just happened. He’d only seen her cry once in her life; he’d said how much it had hurt, that he’d rather put himself under any kind of physical pain than see her cry again. And she would never want that.

“But isn’t there always a beginning to an end?”

“You think so?” She could hardly keep her voice from wavering. This could be the beginning to our end. The beginning that comes after our end.

He hummed knowingly, despite sounding a bit conceited he was honest, even more so as he smiled afterwards.

“Then,” she proceeded with a nod, not too big strides evaluating the waters as she tested him. Have you been waiting like I have? “You’re saying we shouldn’t forget what’s happened, even after it has come to an end, because something will follow–” Sehun nodded confidently, a smile tugged at her lips at how he seemed to not have changed much– ever so poised and stubborn, a tad bit cheeky. Even as he now glimmered gold under the sky, as he now seemed to not know her, he was still him. And perchance he was different in some ways too, but that’s what she wanted to see. She wanted to learn each detail of him, every little element that made him him, from the new ones to the certainly not so new ones; the ones that had remained she wanted to memorize and engrave in the stars, in her heart and her soul for eternity and beyond; those she hadn’t had the chance to behold all those years ago she wanted to embrace and cherish and never let go, for they were the remnats of what they had once been; and the ones that made him different from his past self, though she doubted they really made him in any way much different, those she wanted to encounter in this life, the lives to come, even, for she knew her time could no longer run out. For she knew he had become her time.

And so, with the lightest of hearts, a feeling of pure bliss in her chest resonating against her ribcage, she decided to tease him. “–Or, you don’t want to forget I cried because you feel terribly bad for being the one who caused it.”

He ceased to nod (his head had been following the same up and down since she had turned) and his features turned like the one’s of an innocent culprit. “I did no– It wasn’t me!” He whined. Then, his eyes widened and he pointed his finger in accusation, “You were the one following me!”

She heard him mutter something about “having admirers but that being a bit too much” and she felt like crying from both gratefulness and exasperation. Stars, he really hadn’t changed.

She looked at his both shocked and shockingly beautiful expression and turned on her heel. Maybe you, too, have been waiting for me.

“W-Wait, are you just leaving?” His eyes wide as he watched her walk away, unbearably slowly. “You, uh, whatever your name is–” Sehun caught himself reaching for the girl he’d never seen before, stopping promptly. Yes, he hadn’t seen her before, that was for sure. But why did it feel otherwise? As if, in a way, she’d been there all along and just now had he realized how it was to see her leave. He felt a bit cold and that frightened him the slightest but he remained composed. Han Sehun never lost composure.

“What if I told you,“ she’d come to a halt, a few feet away, and he suppressed that little feeling that prickled at him to move in some sort of way and reach for her. “That a beginning to an end could not come but after centuries. Countless of them,” she said, and it came more like a whisper than anything. “Would you say it’s still worth remembering?“

He did not understand what she exactly meant by that, and, to be completely honest, Sehun found the girl rather strange, out of that world. Or any world, for that matter. She glowed in her own personal kind of way though it was something he’d never seen before. And something, he realized, he knew he’d want to see again. And the air that surrounded her, it seemed to be embedded with that kind of surrealism that she was. And an unearthly light radiated off from her very self, he concluded, much like that of starlight.

And though he hadn’t understood, he found a one and only answer. A mere three-syllable cluster of naught he felt he’d been meaning to say centuries back, as if it all had come to that and only that.


“C$ may lie to each other [a lot] but at least they always eventually come clean.”

Bonnacon talking point for the morning.

And as usual when I come across these, I am honestly baffled.

Because I think that has literally NEVER happened. I cannot recall a single time during their “relationship” when either Killy or Stepford Swan has willingly ‘fessed up to a secret or lie.

Let’s review:

Killy’s lies (the major ones; I don’t have time to tote up all the minor ones)

  • Bae being an “old friend” rather than a child he sold to Pan–still ongoing
  • Trying to murder Belle in Regina’s tower–still ongoing
  • Helping Ariel and Eric rather than betraying them–still ongoing
  • His cursed lips–outed when he nearly got Henry killed
  • Beating up Will–still ongoing
  • His hand/being blackmailed by Rumple–maybe they are counting the phone message he left that Emma never got? A confession that a) did not include the worst part, his threatening Belle and blackmailing Rumple, and b) ONLY happened because his lies had put Emma’s very life in danger.
  • What he did to Ursula–still ongoing
  • Keeping the shears–outed by the Evil Queen
  • Murdering Emma’s grandpa–for the moment, still ongoing

Emma’s lies

  • Prophecy of her death–outed by the Evil Queen
  • Turning him into the Dark One–okay, now that I think of it, I can’t remember how this came out. Did she eventually just tell him? …IF she did, it was not until after he’d attempted suicide to her attention and she’d let Zelena run wild; again, taking pretty extreme circumstances. Outed by Zelena (thank you to those who explained this to me).

So, at BEST, there is one time each when they have EVER admitted the truth of their gazillions of lies, both times only when lives were at stake. If Killy willingly tells Emma about his grampacide next ep, it will be the first time he has EVER done so when her life wasn’t literally on the line. Such beautiful honesty! (I mean, it is character development…)

Slight tangent: In contrast, Belle told Rumple about her one secret/lie (Anna) in the episode the audience learned of it; Rumple was outed about killing Milah (although by Bonnacon Rules™ that was “none of her business” like Killy’s many murders over the years are “none of Emma’s business”), attempting to kill Zelena, and switching the dagger, but revealed the truth about Bae, his blackened heart, and taking back the DO without threat to anyone’s life or chance that he’d be outed. And, of course, we’re going on one full year in which he hasn’t lied to Belle at all, after only two lies during S5. 

Am I missing some? Where do bonnacons get this stuff?

Ok so I know I don’t talk about my ships literally ever, especially with the Flash fandom because it gets a little scary. But I ship Snowbarry, hard. To me (although I’ve only seen the first two seasons on Netflix), I feel like Caitlin and Barry have more chemistry than Barry and Iris. I’m not saying I hate Iris, I don’t hate her at all, she is one of the strongest female characters along with Caitlin on the show. I just feel like Iris and Barry don’t have the right kind of chemistry to really be a couple.

Umm... Okay?

~Prompt: becommissar caught being cute after Worlds & the teams are confused (this prompt was not submitted to me)

Chloe had to be drunk. Or maybe they were drunk. Yep. Beca and Kommissar had to be drunk. Chloe had noticed Kommissar leave the after party. Beca had left too, not in the mood for people which was typical Beca. Chloe also knew that both of them had been completely sober when they left. Chloe herself had quite a bit to drink so she was convinced that she had more than she thought and now she was hallucinating. That had to be it. There was no other way to explain it.

Everyone had left about midnight just because of morning flights. DSM was for the most part sober, Pieter hadn’t touched a drink surprisingly. Stacie was extremely drunk but even she snapped out of her gaze that awaited them when the elevator doors opened. It had been an already awkward ride up the elevator, both groups respecting but not really in the mood for chatting. It was when they stepped out all together that things got awkward.

Kommissar was laughing wildly, freely, childishly. She was holding something above her head, waving it around like a flag. She sprinted past the elevators, being in the middle of a three way point. The hallways broke off right, left, and down the center. Kommissar came from the hallway Beca had been staying at, running down the left hallway toward her room. Beca followed after her moments later. Whining.

“Kommissar! Give it back!”

The blonde just laughed and stopped a little ways down the hallway. Holding it to her full height. “You vant it? Come get it.”

The brunette glared at her. Jumping up but missing the object by a mile. Chloe then realized it was a phone. Kommissar had somehow managed to steal Beca’s phone. No wonder she hadn’t been texting her back. Kommissar looked amusedly down at Beca, smiling in a teasing way.

“Tiny maus struggling?”

Beca rolled her eyes before a mischievous look took her and she jumped onto Kommissar. Her legs wrapped around the blondes waist and one arm wrapped around her torso as she reached for the phone. Kommissar laughed still not moving as Beca still struggled to reach it. Everyone was openly staring at the two. No one except Pieter from DSM had ever seen their leader so… free. She looked careless and happy which were two emotions no one but Pieter had ever witnessed. The Bellas had never seen Beca as a child. Although she somewhat looked like one as she literally climbed Kommissar.

Pieter, being the only one not completely startled, moved toward the two. “Vhat are you doing?”

Kommissar rolled her eyes. “She took pictures of me while I was sleeping!”

The response was just stupid enough for all of the Bellas to laugh. DSM being too terrified of what the blonde might do to them if they so much as chuckled. Cold blue eyes narrowed on the group and she shook off Beca, who fell rather ungracefully to her ass, as Kommissar began moving toward the group, anger and confidence replacing her light mood.

All the Bellas cowered in fear until Beca tackled the blonde, both of them falling to the floor. This made Kommissar’s composure break, the German immediately falling back into giggles as Beca scrambled to take back her phone, making sure she hadn’t deleted the pictures. Beca smiled when she found the pictures again. Kommissar not actually caring about it.

Beca took another picture of the blonde laughing on the floor. Her blonde hair fanned around her like a halo and her blue eyes as light as the sky. Kommissar had on a oversized grey sweater, grey not black for once, and shorts that were covered by the sweater. Kommissar shoved Beca’s phone playfully as the brunette continued to take pictures of her.

“Stop!” Kommissar whined. Hiding her face behind her arms.

“You are so cute!” Beca cooed, both of them still ignoring the large group of people. Pieter, having seen that this would take a while, had resigned to playing on his phone.

“I am not cute I am fierce and mean.” The way Kommissar said it was more of a six year old thing but then the taller woman was up and moving and she was spamming Beca’s phone with selfies as she ran down the hallway toward Beca’s room.

“Kommissar!!” Beca shrieked, chasing after her.

“Should we… I don’t… Where is Beca?” Cynthia asks. “That is not Beca.”

Chloe nods slowly. “I think… Beca totally has a crush.”

“Well… Lesbihonest.” Fat Amy sighs. “I didn’t expect the DSM lady though. She is probably drunk.”

Kommissar runs by them again, still taking selfies and Beca comes to a stop in front of the giant group. She leans over, trying to catch her breath.

“Dam long legs.” She mutters.

“Is Kommissar drunk?” Fat Amy asks, tapping Beca’s shoulder.

“No. You see when I came back she was sitting in the little lounge area in the lobby and she had candy. I walked over and asked why she wasn’t at the party. She said that she got bored and saw me leave and decided to follow me back to the hotel but I apparently took the long route and she ended up here before me. After that we basically talked for a bit and I found out that she has a sweet tooth and then she passed out in my room and I was taking pictures of her cause shes so adorable when she sleeps and her mouth is slightly agape and she is sorta frowning but not really and she-”

“Okay okay.” Chloe cuts off Beca’s rambling. “And after that she…”

“Oh!” Beca smiles sheepishly at getting caught up in Kommissar’s looks. “She woke up, caught me, stole my phone and well… This is it.”

“Do you really need your phone?” Fat Amy asks. “We are ready to go to bed if you two are done being four year olds.”

Beca grins. “Thats okay. Shes going to want to come find me when she realizes I stole one of her shirts when she took off running.”

All the Bellas simultaneously look at the hyped up blonde, giggling and speaking in rapid German to a slightly amused Pieter, the group following their leaders as they make a retreat to their rooms. Kommissar is typing on Beca’s phone as she closes the door behind her and Pieter.

Chloe’s phone vibrates in her pocket. “I know tiny maus has my shirt. I think it looks cute on her so she can keep it. Just know that she doesn’t get her phone back either.” Chloe reads out loud.

Beca rolls her eyes but her voice is affectionate as she says, “What a tease.”



“Don’t play with me right now Traci” he said staring me down with a look that could kill

“I’m not!” I said “Why would I ever play about something like that? That’s the reason why I needed to be alone for a while, so I could think about that shit” I said

“This don’t make no type of sense, how is this even possible?” he asked

“My mom, she told me last night. I didn’t think she was being serious, I just kind of thought she lost her mind at first but it all made sense, Leah’s named after him for one and two, I seen a picture of his father. They look alike, a lot” I said

His expression was unreadable. I just wish he would say something and quick because he was starting to make me nervous.

He shook his head “What’s that supposed to mean now Traci? Now that ya mother found Alex y'all just gon’ take my brother from me?” He asked

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Is Moriarty himself bi? That whole sleazy "would you mind putting your hand in my pocket" scene at the trial might suggest so. (although the gum thing could imply it's part of the public act, like it was when he stole the Crown jewels). I also noted that in both "Stayin' Alive" scenes the lyrics "I'm a woman's man" weren't included.

Debating Jim’s sexuality is so much fun. Because there’s only one character on this show who ever explicitly declares her sexuality – Irene Adler – and with literally every other character, there is a tendency to default each and every one to “straight until proven otherwise.” 

There shouldn’t be a default. Just like in real life, we don’t know a character’s/person’s sexuality unless they choose to tell us, as Irene did. But we can make deductions. Sometimes we’re right, sometimes we’re wrong, and we try our best not to make harmful assumptions in the process.

With Jim, I would guess gay. He first appears disguised (always a self-portrait) as a gay man, and more importantly, he flirts with Sherlock. Which is putting it mildly. Jim’s dialogue with Sherlock is at least as laden with sexual innuendo as Irene’s. So if we assume Irene is attracted to Sherlock (which she acknowledges she is), then we should assume Jim is as well.

That “putting your hand in my pocket” moment is an interesting one (and SO sleazy, like you said!). I saw it more as a power play kind of moment…sort of akin to Cam licking Lady Smallwood’s face or peeing in the fireplace. But it could be a flirtation as well. 

I have zero problem with a “Jim is bi” reading. The only thing that makes me question whether Jim is attracted to women is how things went with Molly and Kitty. In TRF, Molly says Jim wasn’t her boyfriend, they just went on three dates – it wasn’t serious, which (to me) means they didn’t sleep together.

When Sherlock first confronts Kitty about Richard Brook, the way he says this:

All those furtive little meetings in cafés, those sessions in the hotel room where he gabbled into your dictaphone.

– to me, his tone is very sexually suggestive. And when I first watched TRF, I honestly expected to get SOME hint that Jim slept with Kitty. It would have been the typical villain thing to do, right? Get revenge and get laid by taking advantage of some stupid dame. 

But that’s (very refreshingly) not the case. Just like with Molly, there’s nothing to support that Jim slept with Kitty. When “Richard” arrives at her place, he cowers in a child-like way, and Kitty moves to stand protectively in front of him, taking his hands. There’s nothing sexual in it at all. It’s almost parental. Especially with Jim’s frightened, stammered insistence that he’s “on kids’ TV!”

Of course, that doesn’t prove Jim isn’t attracted to women! Maybe he is but he just didn’t sleep with Molly and Kitty. I think any reading of Jim’s sexuality is cool so long as it doesn’t dismiss the very very obvious fact that he wants Sherlock’s ass. :)