#ravings

We know in canon Sherlock has a "mental version" of James in his mind, and I assume James has a "mental version" of Sherlock in his.

Now I imagine them being like Guardian angels on each other's shoulders, giving advice, commenting on everything they do, but also helping them sort out their feelings (definitely not in a serious way), because since they are in their mind they have access to all the things they don't say.

It's like:

Real Sherlock: I'm not in love with James, there's no way.

His mental James: bro u fr? Ooh right, so that's why you dreamt about you and him f-

Real Sherlock: SHUT UP.

Or also:

Real James: damn, Sherlock is very handsome

His mental Sherlock: and from this thought of yours we can deduce...?

Real James: ...That he's the one killing all the ladies (;

raving with plushies

raving with plushies

raving with plushies

raving with plushies

“i’d get on my knees for her”

“i’d bark for her”

which i think speaks to my own submissive tendencies. but more importantly its like. almost a source of dysphoria??? in a way???

i think the queer cultural ideas surrounding body types and orientation have seeped into my brain and made me Feel Weird™️

that post that’s like “the bigger one is the top and dogs are boys and cats are girls and the bus driver sleeps at the bus station every night.” it’s 100% that.

like i think if i was thin and waifish my egg would have cracked a decade earlier. but im not and it didn’t and i attribute that at least in part to a mix of cultural fatphobia and the reinvention of the gender binary in the top/bottom dichotomy.

i do think the fact that we preserve and reify a lot of the prominent ideas in the cultural hegemon we superficially reject is a matter of collective responsibility but it’s also something that we as individuals need to interrogate within ourselves and talk about openly if we are ever to change it.

this ties directly into the racism within the queer community as well as the fatphobia, the transmisogyny, the misogyny, and the western-centrism that are endemic in our culture.

we’re shitty to black girls, and fat girls, and trans girls, and god help you if you’re a fat black trans girl. and we’re the kinder ones between ourselves and the straights, or at least we dare to posture ourselves as such.

Delete—delete—delete—delete—

“Ugh… I’m so stu-pid. Just gonna get Gem in more trouble. Can’t even lie to myself right…”

It was a game. It was a game, it was a bit, and she was… a joke. Really, five deaths in such quick succession. Half of them caused entirely by her own stupidity. There wasn’t much more to say than that, was there?

She couldn’t even sacrifice herself for Gem, not really. She was just… an unintended consequence. An accident.

She’d stumbled into getting a team. She stumbled into any encounter she ever had. Stumbled into death after death after death.

She floated backwards, farther away from the funeral continuing beneath her. Maybe it was a fitting end for her season. She’d complained before that her weeks had been boring, but this had certainly been… not.

“Pearl, you were the best of us; killed by the worst of us.”

She knows he means Jimmy. The pointed stare makes that clear enough. But she can’t help but, just for a moment, think he means himself and Gem.

Etho was wrong in his eulogy, when he said that her teammates had treated her like an old rag. It was a bit that she was in on, just the same as how some of her friends created their stories.

But… just being a part of the joke didn’t mean she was unaffected by it. Didn’t mean that she wasn’t alone in a world where she was supposed to have a team… again.

At least she’d been able to finally fulfill Gem’s wish, even though she’d decided to abandon it just weeks before. Gem finally got to meet the true “Scarlet Pearl”. Not the legend she’d tried so hard to personify, but the woman that started it all.

That woman that wasn’t some master of combat. Wasn’t some terrifying witch cackling in a forest.

Just a lonely woman in a tower, voice silent to anyone that didn’t have a use for her.

Gem finally saw that reality. Maybe Grian finally did too, recognize that truth past the half-spoken whispers from so many years ago.

“You’re going to kill each other?”

No, Etho was wrong about her team not caring for her. But he wasn’t wrong now. Jimmy’s arrows were the final blow, certainly — and she was truly proud of him for that, unintentional as it may have been — but her team was what led her there.

What chased her out of their lighthouse, what pushed her into trap after trap, what put her in positions she could never have handled alone.

Yes, Gem finally saw the truth of the Scarlet Witch that day. And maybe now it was time to move on. To find a new reality for herself, of her own choosing. Not something created by the eyes of everyone else, over and over and over again.

She glanced down at the crescent gravestone, her team — her Villies — kneeling in its shadow.

Yeah.

It was about time for a new phase.