Sherlock Holmes hated cats. Well, to be specific, he hated one specific cat. Namely the beast that lived in the flat above him.
The monstrous creature had moved in several weeks before and begun its reign of terror immediately. For hours, Sherlock laid awake that first night as the cat raced from one end of the flat to the other, its claws playing a spine-tingling symphony on the wood floors. It cried endlessly between the hours of 4am and 6am until its owner, who somehow managed to sleep through the racket, woke up and fed the demanding creature.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, the beast had taken it upon itself to taunt Blackbeard, Sherlock’s basset hound. On more than one occasion, Sherlock had had to manhandle an over-excited Blackbeard down the stairs for his walk while the cat, having escaped its confines, followed them while remaining just out of snout-reach.
Sherlock’s curses and threats of finding a nice experiment on its front left paw, didn’t faze the haughty beast.
Yes, Sherlock Holmes hated cats. And today, he was ready to commit felinicide.
He supposed he could be partly to blame. After all, he had left his door open, anticipating Mrs Hudson’s daily tray of tea and gingernuts.
Blackbeard had been laying in the patch of sunlight by the window, worn out from chasing down an attempted murderer the day before. In Sherlock’s opinion, the old boy had earned a day off. And Sherlock had been looking forward to a quiet day of experimenting on some appendages he had finagled from Stamford, who was more than happy to send him away with the parts, instead of having Sherlock underfoot as he struggled to keep up with the ever-increasing work at Bart’s.
Yes, it was going to be a good day.
That is, until Sherlock discovered they were not alone.
Above him, a floorboard creaked. He paused in the process of removing a fleck of skin from a 45-year-old man’s middle finger.
Sherlock straightened. Too heavy for that cat. And his owner had gone out early in the day, he recalled the outer door slamming shut.
He waited, but when nothing else sounded from upstairs, he promptly forgot about it and returned to his experiment.
It was at this point, looking back, that Sherlock knew he should have gotten up and investigated. If he had, he might have noticed Mrs Hudson’s coat missing from the hall pegs and realised it was her that had left earlier. And he might have noticed the open door at the top of the stairs, where that demonic black cat sat staring down at him, waiting for the right moment to creep down and send everything to Hell in a handbasket.
But he didn’t, so it did.
Like the calm before the storm, the seconds of blissful silence in the flat should have raised the red flags in his Mind Palace, sending alarms blaring and readying him for battle.
But they didn’t.
So caught up in his experiment, he did not hear Blackbeard snort awake and growl a friendly warning. The uninvited guest ignored it and sauntered inside.
Blackbeard rose to his haunches and watched as the cat rubbed up against the nearest chair. Sherlock’s chair. Leaving its fur and scent on it.
A possessive growl ripped out of Blackbeard’s throat and he pounced. But the cat was quicker. Around the room they ran, knocking over piles of books and Sherlock’s music stand, before the cat made a quick right and dashed into the kitchen and, in one graceful leap, jumped onto the table and scampered across.
Sherlock drew back in surprise as dismembered fingers went flying in every direction. His stool tipped back and he tried to grab hold of the table, but it was too late and he fell over backwards with a shout.
‘Whooooaaaa!’ His breath was knocked out of him and he lay there, dazed.
Blackbeard, unable to make the same leap, tried to go under and managed to knock loose the one bad table leg and only just made it out the other side before the table buckled and sent everything that remained on it to the floor.
Silence fell like a thick blanket over the room.
Laying there, his legs akimbo over the stool and suffering a bruised bum, Sherlock coughed and sucked in deep breaths as he tried to understand what had happened.
He turned his head and glared at the culprits. Blackbeard had the decency to look guilty and whined softly, padding over to Sherlock and nudging his leg.
Behind him, the beast was perched atop the microwave, triumphant. With a forefinger in its jaws.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes at his nemesis.
'Oh my god! Oh, oh are you okay?’ A soft, feminine voice called out from the doorway. Sherlock turned his head back and looked straight up into the face of an angel.
Or, his upstairs neighbor. But with the overhead light casting a glow around her elfish face, he gave himself a little grace for the misunderstanding.
She was petite, but strong, as Sherlock discovered when she practically hauled him to his feet after ascertaining he had not injured himself too badly.
'I am so sorry, I didn’t realise I had left the door open and Toby got out.’ She continued to apologise profusely as she bent down and almost absentmindedly gathered up the stray fingers. Sherlock watched in bemusement as she laid them out on the counter, correctly in order, before gently but firmly taking the one from the demon beast, er, Toby.
’-not usually such a maniac. I think it’s been the move and he is upset about having left Manchester.’
Sherlock eyed the beast in question. He didn’t believe for one second that this was too out of character.
'I will replace your table and if there’s any damage to the microscope, I’ll pay for the repairs. I really am truly sorry! This is not at all how I wanted to introduce myself. I’ve just been so busy settling in and going through mounds of paperwork for my new job, I just kept putting it off.’ She was wringing her hands and gnawing her lip, showing more guilt than Blackbeard. The faithful dog must have sensed her distress and he sat beside her and leaned against her leg to offer her comfort.
With two sets of big brown eyes staring at him so sadly, Sherlock knew he was in trouble.
Looking between the cat, who twitched its nose and tail as if to say 'you’ll do’ (whether as a begrudging friend or its next meal, Sherlock couldn’t say’ after all, the cat apparently had a taste for human flesh) to his faithful hound who had tilted his head back to gaze adoringly at the woman who was petting him in the perfect spot behind his right ear, he had a feeling things were going to change.
And when he looked back at his neighbor, took in the faint blush on her cheeks, her cherry print cardigan and long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, with glasses perched on her nose, and combined that with how she had not batted an eye at his experiment or gathering dismembered body parts from the floor of his flat…
AN: I realized I could combine all of these, and that made me so incredibly happy. So, I hope the three of you are alright with this.
You launched your body off the roof of the falling building, your mech wings snapping into place. Your body lurched, and you were flying many feet above the concrete ground. Panic settled in when you couldn’t find your partners, the streets clouded with dust and debris.
“Mako! Jamison! Where are you?!” You yelled, and your voice echoed.
No response came.
Your heart skipped, and you dropped down, flying toward the ground. You couldn’t see them among the many agents scattered over the concrete.
“Junkrat! Roadhog! Where are you?” You screamed, easily dodging the bullet that flew toward you.
Nearby, an explosion went off, and you darted through the battle. You knew only one person could’ve caused that. Your wings snapped as you turned a sharp corner, your eyes quickly finding Junkrat on the ground. Roadhog wasn’t that far away, but he was pinned to the wall by a monster of a man.
Junkrat was missing his peg leg, and he wasn’t able to get up off the ground. Your eyes narrowed, and you cut through the air, quickly snatching one of your boyfriends off the ground.
He jumped and clung to you, his arms hooked around your neck.
“When I pick up Roadie, you have to help me hold him! I know I’m strong, but I’m not that strong. Okay?” You yelled over the sounds of screams and gun shots.
Junkrat nodded as he turned his head toward Roadhog. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you reached for the big man and yanked him free, watching as Junkrat grabbed the back of Roadhog’s straps.
“You got him?” You asked your boyfriend, turning to look at Roadhog, “You okay, babe?”
He nodded as you lifted the both of them into the air, already straining to keep the men in your arms. You managed to carry them away from the battle before they hit the ground, Roadhog holding Junkrat in his arms.
“Let’s go home before this gets worse. We need to get Junk a new leg.” You swept a hand over your face, feeling your wings fold against your back. An arm curled around your waist, and you were lifted into Roadhog’s arm, your other boyfriend on his back.
“Home,” Junkrat said, pointing away from the city.
Summary: In this world everyone has a soulmate. The day you are born you receive a bracelet. When it turns black you’ve come into contact with your soulmate–only thing is, one of you will eventually have to die by the other’s hand.
Warnings: BLOOD, eventual sadness, cursing, lots of crap.
Writer’s note: Aahhhh I’m sorry Jin–I know you’re a fluffball I know. The writer’s mind is just mean.
She stirred into consciousness with the feeling of someone
brushing loose strands of her hair off her cheek. Her mind shamelessly traveled to Jungkook and
the gentle touch he’d had when he wiped her down in the bathtub–it brought a
smile to her face and had her attempting to grasp at their hand. Were she more
awake she would have realized these fingers were softer and less kind. Her eyes fluttered open and disappointment
tied itself around her chest and dragged her back to reality.
“Good morning our little bird.” He trilled, she
hated when he called her that so he did it as often as he could just to get a
rise out of her. “Weren’t you just adorable? Did you think I was someone
else?” He chuckled. “Now tell me who could give you such a peaceful
She realized she’d succeeded in grabbing his hand and
dropped it as quickly as she’d snatched it, her eyes half-lidded in groggy
annoyance. “How’d you get in here?”
He looked over his shoulder to the window that he’d
oh-so-kindly left in broken shatters, sitting up in the process. “I
flew.” He nearly giggled at his own joke causing her to roll her eyes.
“I thought I was supposed to be the bird.” She
pushed herself up into a sitting position, stretching her thin arms.
He wasn’t satisfied that her gaze wasn’t on him, so he
grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “Why’d you run away from
us? You’re supposed to be our little bird, not these weak punks’. Do you know
how angry Jin’s been with me for letting you escape–even though I, myself,
wasn’t there to stop it?”
“I’m sure you’ll show me.”
He let go of her a bit roughly, pushing himself off the bed
and pacing in front of her. He grabbed her wrist to start pulling her to her
feet, after all he had to get her back to Jin or he for sure wouldn’t have a
future tomorrow. That was when he caught the glimpse of the blackened bracelet.
Even though his heart dropped in fear he found hilarious and extremely useful.
Jin would be pissed, but he could also be convinced that this would help rid
them of one enemy.
“Oooh?” He murmured through stifled chuckling,
pulling her to her feet and to him. “Who is it? Who do we get the pleasure
of seeing die? And I do say that they are the ones that have to die, so don’t
start giving me your smart-ass answer. You know full well that Jin will not let
you be killed.” He admired the bracelet under the morning light leaking in
through the gaping draft of the window.
She pressed her lips together and yanked her wrist back from
his grip as if he could discover the name just by looking at the bracelet.
“Protecting him? Who are you protecting, little bird?
What could a weak little thing like you even protect?”
She stared at him, cradling her braceleted wrist to her
chest as if he had hurt it. He’d always enjoyed those doe eyes of hers–they
never broke their spirit no matter what was done.
His hand snapped out to grasp her throat; it was so thin he
only needed the one. His teeth flashed with quiet laughter as her hands cupped
his in an attempt to weakly pry them from her neck.
“I thought you were resigned to death. Now some man
living here can make you want to live?” He dropped her, watching her crash to his feet with the
sudden intake of air. He admired the shackle that chained her to the bed. Even they didn’t trust her not to leave–her
own soulmate. “Look at the little lovebirds that you are.” He yanked on
the chain until it snapped the post of the bed. Satisfied he lifted her up onto
his waist piggy back style–shackle, chain, post and all. “Makes me
sick.” He whispered.
She wrapped her arms around his neck so she wouldn’t fall
off; she knew he wouldn’t catch her.
“I promised Jin I’d get you back home before
noon.” He quickly scribbled a note for what she assumed to be Jungkook and
the others, keeping one hand underneath her to balance her weight.
“You’re full of empty promises.”
He placed the note on the now broken bed before meandering
with her towards the busted windowsill.
“Better duck, birdie. It’s a bit of a drop.” He chuckled,
prepping his feet on the windowsill before catapulting into open air. She held
onto him tight, remembering not to bite her cheek or tongue. Last time she did
she couldn’t stop the bleeding for a solid five minutes.
They landed with a thud that rattled her brain, and before
she could even get a hold of her vertigo he was already breaking off at a
“Jin loves you, you know.” He wasn’t even out of
breath, yet she wasn’t even running and was still in lack of oxygen.
“Lots of men say things like that. They don’t mean
“Did your soulmate tell you he loves you?”
She thought of Jungkook, the way he would cast quick glances
at her that he thought she didn’t notice. The way he did small little things
for her like wrapping her shackle with gauze or making sure that the sheets
were fresh and clean. The face that he didn’t kill her even when he wanted to.
“He doesn’t like me very much.”
“I like you, Birdie.”
“Mm. That’s still not my name.”
He woke up with a thousand tiny butterflies cocooned in his
stomach trying to eat their way out. It was impossible for him to forget what
happened yesterday–those doe eyes even appeared in his dreams. He couldn’t
quite figure out if he was happy about that yet.
He threw back the covers and found out that he was so delusional
last night that he had slept in the same clothing he had worn the day before. Taehyung is going to notice this and then
start spewing his ‘My little Kookie’s in love’ bullshit that he’s been doing
ever since I stepped out of her room.
He was getting another headache.
Cradling his head, he pushed through the doorway and headed
to the kitchen to grab a drink of water and a couple IB Profen before heading
towards her room to check up on her. Taehyung stopped him before he could even
make it across the living room.
He ignored Taehyung’s pleas and opened the door to her room
only to discover the bed leaning to one side from a missing peg and a busted
window detailing her escape.
“She couldn’t have done this on her own.” He
imagined her frail bony arms devoid of muscle and the malnourished look to her
cheeks. There was no freaking way a girl like that was capable of any sort of
strength to this level. “Where is she?”
Taehyung handed him a note like it was her obituary.
We took out Little Bird
back. Seems she perched in a place she shouldn’t have. Though, to the dear who
has her matching black bracelet, I wouldn’t worry since we always take real
good care of her. She’s provided to be useful and well loved after all.
Hugs and Kisses,
Jungkook crumpled the paper and tossed it into the nearest trash
bin. His face was impassive, his body relaxed against the door frame in
“What do you want to do?” Taehyung asked slowly,
like a human asks a stalking tiger to please not eat them.
“What do you mean? What can I do?”
“Do you want to get her?”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t even know
her. Besides, then they’ll know that I’m her soulmate, and it’ll give them a
really good reason to put a bullet in my head if she’s as important as they say
“She’s not your soulmate–not if I still have the
bracelet.” Taehyung flashed his wrist.
“No?” He was getting angry, and she wasn’t even
truly his soulmate. “ I’m not blind I can see the panic in your eyes. Just
because you want to look cool doesn’t mean you actually are.” When Jungkook
didn’t react he continued. “So you’re just going to leave her with them.
They just took her back and it doesn’t matter to you one bit?”
“Yep.” He popped the end of the word.
“Bracelet or not–she’s still not your soulmate. I
would stop caring about a thin, doe-eyed girl like her.”
Taehyung threw his hands up in the air. “I give up, you
are such a pain in the ass right now I really don’t care what happens to either
of you. As long as you’re still alive you can both be blind and in pain from
your idiocy for the rest of eternity.”
Jungkook made his way back to his room, grabbing his wallet,
keys, phone, and favorite tools off of his bedside dresser. He double checked
his phone was on silent before slipping it into his back pocket.
“I’m going out.” He shouted to Taehyung–the other
two were still on patrol doing who knows the hell what. He was positive they
were going to come home and pass out for a solid 10 hours.
“To find her?” Taehyung shouted back, still giving
Jungkook the I-really-don’t-want-to-see-you-right-now treatment.
“To get food–it’s time for lunch and I’m
“You’re still horrible at excuses–I can hear you
pocketing your tools.”
Jungkook tugged on his shoes and jogged to the dorm’s
entrance. “Your face irritates me–are we still stating the obvious?”
He snorted as he slammed the front door behind him.
Jin was waiting for them in his study when they finally
arrived 'home’. He stepped out from
behind his messy desk littered with papers and photos littered with x’s and
question marks. His eyes remain locked on her as Jimin let her down from his
back. He looked like he hadn’t seen her in years never mind the fact that it
was only a night.
He ran to her, pulling her tight into his arms .
“My Birdie.” He whispered into her ear with all of
the love a crazy man could muster.
The bedpost of her shackle bumped into his ankle and that
led him to look down which then led to the immediate shit-show that was living
with Jin. He’d caught sight of the bracelet and now he was never going to let it’s
blackened state go.
“Who?” He dropped her, nearly shoving her and she
fell to the ground like the weakened doll she’d become. His voice was so cold, his bipolar switch
flickering to rage. When he got mad like this he’d decide to lock her in a room
without food. He’d send men her way to claim her–some of the worst kinds of
men if he was in a particularly horrid mood; she’d be kept there until he
decided she’d served her punishment. It was during one of these periods that
Jungkook had found her; all she did was tell Jin that her name was Y/N.
She dared to bring her gaze up to Jin to calculate just how
far gone into anger he was. That was her mistake.
“Don’t look at me with those eyes.” It was a
desperate plea and a shout at the same time.
“I’m not her, Jin.”
He squatted in front of her, yanking her wrist from her lap
to flail it in front of her face. “I know, this proves it.” It was a
snarl that landed spit on her cheek. She flinched. He rushed up to his feet in
an instant. “Who is it?”
“No. You’ll kill him.”
“Yes. Now tell me who it is. Don’t make me put you in
that damn room again.”
“You’ll send me there anyways.” Probably a worse
room now that she’s gone and gotten herself a soulmate that wasn’t Jin. He
didn’t even wear his bracelet anymore, she believed Jimin actually had it
locked away somewhere.
“Jimin.” She shivered at his tone–it wasn’t even
a command for her.
The younger ducked his head to avoid Jin’s gaze and anger,
grabbing her forearm to practically drag her along behind him. She was going to
the room, a different room than the last–one closer to the heart of Jin’s
But he had many of these rooms. Some were worse than others,
but they were all called the room.
“I’m sorry, Little Bird.” Jimin stopped at the
third door in the hallway of options, busying himself with unlocking it.
“That’s not my name.”
“He wants it to be.” He pushed open the door.
“That’s because he’s upset. He can’t tell us apart
“He loves you.” Jimin didn’t even bother shackling
her to the bed, she couldn’t escape anyways.
“He loves her.”
The door slammed in her face, automatically locking from the
She looked to the bed.
The sheets were semi-clean and there was even a plate of
food. Jin must have missed her quite a
bit if he gave her food. He would definitely visit her later–she was sure of
Jungkook knew Jin’s head of operations well enough. He was
both the executioner and the intel gatherer of the group–he knew enough
information about this place to send it belly up. But you don’t just mess with
Jin easily. The guy was messed up, and not particularly afraid of losing a few
limbs to ensure his enemy was dead.
Now Jungkook was climbing his way up the chain link fence
surrounding the building, jumping over the barbed top and flinging himself into
the heart of Jin’s territory. He hit the ground with a solid thud, but he
wasn’t sticking around to see who heard him land. He ran to the nearest source
of cover, waiting for a split second to see if any guards had made their way to
his location–though he knew they wouldn’t. He’d found the hole between guards
on patrol and was currently exploiting that in for all it was worth.
He jumped and grabbed the lowest run of the fire escape,
using his upper body strength to pull himself up to the nearest platform. He
couldn’t exactly use the door since you know, he wasn’t supposed to be there.
So instead he jumped up onto the railing and scaled the side of the building
until his feet landed squarely in the ledge of a windowsill. He held onto the
frame of it with one hand while he fished for his tools with the other.
The window screen was popped out first before he pulled open
the actual window itself and slithered his way into the dark room. He replaced
the screen and closed the window, trying his best to get a mental map of the
place for his eventual escape. He’s literally snuck in here so many times he’s
surprised that he’s yet to be caught physically. He’s been all over the cameras
in the past–but only when Namjoon lets him know that he should be seen by
Now what? Damnit, why
am I even here right now? He pictures her doe eyes staring up at him
expectantly, waiting for an answer to a question she never asked. He sighed
softly, waving away the image with his hand. He pushed the door out slowly,
sticking his head into the hallway.
All clear so far.
He walked with a quick yet soft pace, scanning all the doors
and name plates tagged up beside them. Where would she be? And why was he even
expecting there to be a label to where she’d be.
Really? Y/N here,
please pick her up Jungkook.
He was truly an idiot.
He looked to his wrist where Taehyung’s still golden
bracelet lie. He half expected to see a black band there that would tell him
where he had to go. He imagined her walking arm and arm with Taehyung, talking
about all the frivolous things that popped in his best friend’s head. The image
was accompanied with a quick pang of jealousy. Damnit, why am I thinking about that now? He shook his head to
clear his thoughts for the time being.
This door’s as good as
any. He tried the handle only to find it locked. Even better. Things behind locked doors are secrets, and I like
secrets. Mainly because he was not very good about keeping things secret
unless Namjoon threatened him. He pulled the pick from his pocket and
maneuvered it into the handle of the door. This was a novice lock, whatever was
behind the door didn’t require heavy preventative measures to stay secret.
Once opened he pushed himself inside quickly, closing the
door behind him.
He was met with her gaze, a grape in her hand waiting to be
popped into her mouth. She stared at him
with widened doe eyes and furrowed eyebrows. “Jungkook?” She
“I uhhh.. you know I just–”
She let the plate clatter to the floor, tripping over her
own two feet as she ran at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him
into a tight hug. “You idiot.” She whispered against his skin. Being
the confused gangster that he’d become he wrapped his arms around her waist.
She smells better now,
and she’s so warm. It’s like she fits
right here, I didn’t know my body was shaped perfectly to fit another person.
Jungkook get a hold of yourself. Remember who you are and where you are.
He didn’t want to remember, instead he forgot who he was so
he could continue to have his arms around her for a few more seconds.
“Why are you here?” Her breath was hot against his
“I was out getting lunch and just happened to be in the
She patted his back lightly. “You’re a terrible
liar.” His chest vibrated with her chuckles and he quickly separated
himself from her when he felt heat flare up the back of his neck.
“Taehyung says that too–are you sure you weren’t meant
to be soulmates with him?” He teased her, bending down to look under her
She made a face, punching him.
“That all you got?” He scoffed. “You’re so
She met his gaze and he straightened, nearly getting the
breath knocked from him with her doe eyes and that stare that could see every
single secret hidden within one’s bones. It was terrifying.
So why did he only find it cute?
“I don’t know why I’m here.” His thoughts leaked
from his mouth without permission and he backed up into the wall grunting at
his sudden display of awkward behavior in front of her. She made him so nervous
and he didn’t even know why. She was just a girl like anyone else? He’d been
with women who should be models before–hell, he’s kissed people prettier than
her. So why the hell was she the only thing he could see now?
She smiled at his lost expression. He seemed so lost and
confused, yet here he was trying to be cute and suave. “I’m happy you are
“I just–I was just…I don’t even….” He
groaned, pulling at his face with his hands. “Seriously what am I
Her laugh made his heart squeeze painfully. He wanted to
touch her more than anything, it took all his willpower to keep his back
pressed against the wall.
“Why don’t you stop thinking so much?”
“I shouldn’t be here. One of us is going to die if we
keep meeting. So why…?”
“When did it become 'one of us is going to die’ rather
than I’m the one that’s going to die?” She was smiling triumphantly like
she’d caught him, like she knew something about him that even he had yet to
“Why the hell are you so happy about this? It’s annoying.”
She pretended to think for a second, rolling on her heels.
“Mmmm. It’s because I like you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
She crossed her arms–there was no giving up when it came to
her. “Then tell me something I don’t know about you? Teach me more.”
Her gaze was locked on him and he couldn’t turn away from
it. It was a spell, and he was compelled to answer to everything that spilled
from her lips.
“I can sing.” He blurted, eyes traveling down to
her moving lips. He was transfixed by such a simple thing.
“Sing me something.”
He was a puppet to do her bidding and so he sang for her,
softly in case he could be heard. To make sure he stepped further into the
room, sitting on the bed. It wasn’t as comfortable as the one that he’d given
her back at their dorm.
about anything.” His voice was shaky, out of breath. She was still
staring at him, the depths of her eyes increasing with every note that passed
through his lips. He was getting further lost in everything that was her. “Don’t
Please just smile for
me.” She was still by the door
much to her own dislike, so she remedied that. She stepped slowly towards him,
like he was a cornered animal he desperately wanted to befriend.
“I still can’t
everything feels like
a dream.” He eyes remained locked on him, refusing to cast her glance
away from him for even a second. Her bare feet barely made a noise against the
concrete. She was agonizingly slow, yet the speed she walked was so steady. He
wanted to pull her closer, he wanted her in front of him now. He wanted to sing
directly to her, he wanted to smother her in song.
She was beautiful.
“Don’t try to
disappear.” She looked so mesmerized by him, for once. For once he got
to see her acting like he always felt around her. Her fingers reached out to
“Is it true? Is
So beautiful, so
terrifying.” She was in front of him, slowly melting to her knees. She
rested her cheek against his thigh, her
hand reaching for his cheek slowly. He flinched before she could touch him so
she paused with her hand in the air, waiting until he was comfortable with it.
You, You, you
Be by my side
Will you promise
me” She moved her hand to his cheek, when he didn’t flinch she cupped
his face in her hand. He let her, mesmerized by every miniscule movement she
“If I touch you
I’m afraid you’d fly away or break
I’m afraid, afraid,
afraid” She pulled his head towards hers, keeping her eyes focused on
him–keeping him focused on her. His hands traveled on their own, brushing his
fingertips along her face until he cupped her face with both his hands. His
thumb brushed her cheek while the other busied itself with tracing the smooth
curve of her lips.
“I wanna stop
When this moment is
Would it be like a
fantasy?” He leaned into her hand, brushing his lips across the
fingertips. He made sure to keep his gaze on her, by watching her through the
corner of his eyes. He felt if he looked away everything would shatter before
He didn’t want to stop.
“Would I forget
I’m afraid, afraid,
Butterfly, like a
Her face was so close to his he could feel her breath–it
wasn’t close enough for him. He started to shift forward when they both heard
the sounds of footsteps at the end of the hall.
“Jin.” She whispered, eyes wide with fear for
On the Subject of Taylor, Sexuality, Shipping, and Coming Out
This was written for @teaparty20‘s blog, but I decided to post it here because I found I grew quite fond of it as I wrote it. I think it’s very important to understand all of this, and I hope that the conversations become more fair.
I really hate that this whole thing gets tied into shipping. It’s not really that simple. For some people the “Taylor Swift is gay” thing goes hand in hand with kaylor… as in they ship kaylor when Taylor’s single, rumors start to fly, Taylor gets in a public relationship with a man, they ship kaylor still, therefore Taylor must be gay and Calvin must be a beard. But the percentage of people making that claim for which that’s the way it went is far smaller than people give it credit for. The truth is, for most people it went “Taylor Swift doesn’t quite seem straight…. She’s awful close with Karlie… I guess I ship kaylor…. Taylor and Karlie are together.” rumors fly and then “wait so Taylor started liking anti-kaylor things on tumblr only after rumor started flying… now she’s pushing a public relationship with a man when she had previously (as in a month ago or less) said that any new relationship she gets in will be hidden… what this doesn’t seem right… I’m calling beard.”
Now, it should be noted I am not one of the people who believe that. I am, however, one of the people who believes she’s bisexual. And I have felt that *long* before kaylor. The general fandom likes to act like the non-straight theories came with kaylor. That they’re a new thing the kaylor fandom brought to town… but they’ve been here since 2006. I point my attention to Emily Poe. Taylor and Emily’s relationship was probably not platonic. Not completely. I’m not in the camp of people who thinks they dated, but I sure as hell know it wasn’t platonic. I always come back to that quote from the Red tour M&G about “implications” from that “situation” and not being sure how she felt about it… At that point, it couldn’t be platonic. Not in my eyes… But it’s obvious from that quote that at that point in 2013, Taylor wasn’t sure about her sexuality. I don’t know that she is now.
My feelings that Taylor likes women aren’t because I shipped Temily. They’re not because I ship kaylor. They’re because I have seen a pattern of behavior from her that indicates non-straightness. Straight people will never understand… and every time any of us tries to talk about it, straight people twist it around as if we are saying that someone’s sexuality should be assumed based on arbitrary things… But when you grow up non-straight in a “straight until proven otherwise” world, you learn to pick up on subtle things… You learned to feel out a vibe. You see someone glance at people the first time they see them, you see someone subtly flirt… You hear in between the lines when they talk about things… You learn to see it.
That’s the “gaydar.” Straight people joke that gay people have the best “gaydars” as if it’s something that non-straight people are born with. We’re born with this radar for each other… But that’s not true. We learn to be able to find each other in a crowd. Sometimes, you miss. Sometimes, you peg someone for non-straightness and they end up straight. Sometimes, you peg someone for straight and they end up not. It’s a guessing game, really. But it’s an educated guessing game. One that you get better at with time and one you get better at the more you know a person.
Most of us do not make statements like “X celebrity is X sexuality” based on a quick whim. We make statements like that after we have felt that and seen it. And it’s not “X celebrity is X sexuality because I want them to date Y celebrity!” It’s “X celebrity is X sexuality AND is dating Y celebrity.” But every time the conversation gets brought up, non-straightness gets silenced in the conversation of shipping. It’s really not fair to any of us, and it sexualizes and objectifies non-straight people and their sexualities by making them only about who they are dating. That’s really uncool.
I just hate seeing conversations about Taylor’s sexuality happen like this: Some straight person (anonymously usually, but sometimes not) comes out of the blue to say that Taylor isn’t gay, and that’s obvious because kaylor isn’t real. And then that’s where it ends. Any argument past that point comes to “Kaylor isn’t real.” Before kaylor it was “she’s dated men.” Over and over and over again. It’s exhausting. But it’s also a huge silencing technique.
Usually when the silencing is pointed out, the straight people will strawman about shipping further and say that respecting Taylor’s current relationship isn’t silencing. And whatever… I’m not getting into that. But what I will say is shutting down the conversation of possible non-straightness by misrepresenting the issue and over simplifying it so that it is about shipping rather than personal non-straightness…. That IS silencing.
What that does is make us look crazy. It makes us look desperate to find someone like us, so much that we disregard her entire person. It makes our experiences in honing our “gaydars” and learning how to live in a world made for straight people look pointless and arbitrary. It further alienates us from the world at large by making the adaptations we’ve had to make to live in this world not made for us out to be a bad thing. And it misrepresents what they are.
As for coming out… People do generally take a dip in popularity when they come out. Either they take a dip in popularity, they get boxed in and kind of typecasted “for the gays,” or their sexualities go completely ignored. If Taylor were to say she’s bisexual, I don’t know which of the three would happen. I’m guessing all three in different waves. It’s a hit I hope she’ll take for purely selfish reasons. But it’d be a hit. But beyond the professional fallout of coming out is the personal fallout of coming out. Most of us, normal people, have people we’re not out to. I’m not out to my grandmother on my dad’s side. I’ve never formally come out to either side of my extended family other than my first cousins. My extended extended family on my mother’s side (we’re Greeks so it’s like you’ve got the immediate family, mom dad sisters, and then extended, mom’s siblings and my grand parents, and then extended extended, mom’s cousins my great grandmother mom’s aunts and uncles, etc) doesn’t know to the best of my knowledge…. Even less people know about my gender. I can be out publicly, and still be closeted to these people it’s not safe for me to come out to in my family. Taylor Swift has no such luxury. She cannot come out publicly and still be closeted to extended family. She cannot come out and have some family friends who don’t know. She cannot come out and have people in her life, who have ever been in her life, who don’t know. I think that’s the side of coming out that gets lost in this discussion… and it gets lost on both ends. A celebrity’s reason for being closeted might not be professional… it very well may be personal.
But we don’t know… And I don’t think it’s appropriate to speculate why she hasn’t come out or why she won’t. At the end of the day… I think that non-straight people reserve the right to be able to look at famous people and feel hopeful at the prospect of seeing themselves be represented. I think that the process of deciding “I think there might be representation in this celebrity” is a much more complicated process then is represented by the side that claims it is disrespectful, and I think coming out is much more complicated than is ever represented in these discussions.
i was just wonderin if you got a chance to see aou yet. and if u did, did it inspire any porny thoughts? a sequel to crawl home? ps you are the porn queen of the stucky fandom
i saw it a bit back, and somehow all it did was spawn ALL THE HETEROSTRAIGHT PORN IMAGINABLE, i know, i know, i’m sorry; i think it’s because i was so mad about natasha’s characterization, and then also the steve/peggy scene broke my brain a little bit. there was actually some unfinished steve/thor too which i’ll probably spruce up soon. uh, samples:
“Hi,” says Steve. Jesus, she’s wonderful. He wants to wrap her up in his arms and kiss her, and so he does. Peggy rests her hands on his shoulders, surprised, laughing into his mouth.