Sorry ladies, you may need to sit down for this: Benedict Cumberbatch is reportedly now off the market.

*sigh* I get why this is “news” - longtime-ish bachelor, object of a vast array of feminine and some masculine desires, but really. I can’t think of any fan I know in the Collective (yes, COLLECTIVE. Stop with the Bitches already mainstream media.) who seriously felt they would someday be his gf for realz.



Fantasize? Hell yes. It’s fun and dreamy and lovely to think up scenarios where Benedict or your celebrity of choice falls for you. I do it. A lot of us do it. But all this ‘Move on Cumberbitches’ (fuck you Rebecca Eaton) pisses me off. You think I’ll stop being a fan and having my harmless fantasies because he may or may not be taken? Then you’ve no idea what being a fan is like. There’s more to it than lustily picturing the two of us together. We genuinely admire the guy *outside* of that part. His humor, his talent, his charitable intentions, his demeanor with fans, his intelligence - there’s a whole package there that we love and call ourselves lucky for being in the fandom, NOT TO MENTION the other benefits of loving the man - meeting others who feel likewise and developing deep friendships among the chief reasons. The creativity on display from people you might never have known about otherwise. Writers, artists - the lot. The Collective is chock-a-block full of beautiful, intelligent, creative people and when they come together they do great things like raise thousands upon thousands of dollars/pounds for amazing charities. How come the media never mentions that??



So he’s got a girlfriend. How smashing for him because the number one thing we really want out of our fandom is for him to be happy. I also want to be happy and I like thinking about made-up scenes where Benedict and I fall madly for each other. I’m gonna keep on doing that as much as I want. But it doesn’t mean I believe any of what I make up. It will stay tucked up in my head along with my other harmless fantasies about the hot guy in a bespoke suit I saw the other day and will never see again. Harmless.