#benedict x henry needs to happen

[michwritesstuff]

She’s Gonna Save Me (Bridgerton: Benedict Bridgerton)

this is my first ever bridgerton fic! i’ve had such a writer’s block and post grad has been so difficult but listening to music and reading other writers’ works has me feeling inspired! so enjoy my first story in months and first of the new year :)

pairing: female reader (she/her) x Benedict Bridgerton reader x Colin Bridgerton (platonic!)

summary: Benedict contemplates a life pursuing art and living outside the expectations of his family and society. Does he find a wife and settle down or live freely? What happens when he meets someone who can offer him the best of both worlds?

notes/warnings: mention of nudity, alcohol consumption, activities that can be witnessed at Sir Granville’s scandalous studio saoirees…

word count: 2.4k

As the second eldest Bridgerton boy, Benedict never found himself extremely pressured by the standards and expectations of society. Those responsibilities were entrusted upon his brother, Anthony, the Viscount.

Benedict reserved himself to a more romantic life, preoccupied by his love and interest for art.

Attending every event of the season was merely a ploy to keep his mother happy and distracted from the fact that he had no true intention of courting any ladies.

He would drink, laugh, and dance the season away without ever calling on anyone.

Benedict believed that this season wouldn’t be any different.

******

When you first agreed to join your family friends across the Atlantic in London, you didn’t expect that you would be taking part in the ton’s social season.

As the youngest daughter, your brothers married with children and sisters off tending to their new husbands, your father didn’t feel the need to arrange a marriage for social or monetary gain.

Your family was well off in the states, your parents often described as ‘free spirits.’ They had always impressed upon you the importance of appreciating the beauty around you and romanticizing life.

With your mother’s passing, you decided to stay at home with your father, choosing to enjoy a quiet life in the country studying English literature.

Staying with Sir Henry Granville was beyond exciting and allowed you to interact and mingle with the more eclectic members of British society.

You had lasted all but a week before you were called upon by a Miss Lady Danbury.

She had stressed the importance of participating in the social season and the impending judgment of the ton and Queen if you did not participate.

While you never cared much for the opinion of others, you didn’t fancy the idea of being ogled every time you ventured into town.

******

“I heard she was rejected by every suitor.”

“She’s so ugly and unpleasant, a dowry wouldn’t even be worth it.”

“Apparently she’s slightly deformed.”

You couldn’t begin to believe the rumors circulating about you, the American.

You swore that the descriptions were ripped out of a storybook, describing some gremlin crawling from the depths of the earth.

Men and women alike had no problem spreading stories about the young lady joining them for the season.

Worst of all, none of them had even seen you yet. The modiste had made personal house calls, as requested by Lady Danbury.

Now you stood, in front of the carriage, at the first ball of the season, your debut.

You followed behind Sir Henry and Mary Granville, head held high and eyes straight forward as you waded through the ballroom towards Lady Danbury and the Queen.

You heard the whispers and felt the stares as you stood before the queen.

With one leg behind the other and your arms laid at your side, you gently bent your knee and curtsied before her.

She gave you a once over before bowing her head back, a silent approval.

Moving out of the way, you stood at the edge of the dance floor as Lady Danbury approached.

“Miss y/l/n, I do hope you don’t mind that I have taken the liberty of securing you a few gentlemen to fill out your dance card.”

“I expect nothing less from you, Lady Danbury” you smiled back, a teasing tone in your voice.

Your sarcasm and apprehension towards the season had not gone unnoticed by Lady Danbury.

She quite admired your wit and sharp mind, and more than anything, enjoyed the challenge.

******

You were now on your 4th dance of the night; your feet were hurting, and you wanted nothing more than to be curled up with a book.

Fortunately, your current dance partner was not completely awful and was actually quite charming.

Colin Bridgerton.

You had met him once before, in passing, when Lady Danbury had brought you to meet his mother, Violet, and sister, Daphne.

 Apparently, Daphne had been named the Diamond of the season in her first season out on society and married a Duke.

His younger sister, Eloise, was preparing for her first season as well.

However, through your brief encounter with Eloise she did not seem as happy with the matter as her sister and mother were.

You had a feeling she would be a good person to befriend.

“Tell me about yourself Miss y/l/n” Colin inquired.

“Y/N,” you quickly corrected.

“Just Y/N is fine,” you smiled slightly.

“Well Y/N, how are you finding London and the beginning of the season?”

“London, well its quite beautiful. There is so much art, and history, and the architecture is amazing. Truly, I wouldn’t mind getting lost here. And well…this—” you paused, glancing around the ball at all the young women around you.

“May I be frank?” you asked, Colin’s eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Of course, Miss Y/N”

“I slightly detest all of this, my feet hurt, and I’ve been dancing for quite too long. Why would I want to marry someone I’ve met one time?”

Colin was slightly taken aback before grinning wildly.

“You remind me of my sister Eloise,” he stated.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, I quite liked her,” you grinned back.

As the dance ended you curtsied before Colin as he bowed before you.

“I hope you find the person you’re looking for Y/N, but I have a feeling you don’t need all of this to do so.”

You smiled widely and slightly nodded before following him off the dance floor.

“I’ll grab us a drink,” he said before walking away. Your eyes followed his back for a few seconds before scanning the room.

They quickly landed on two men whispering in the corner.

The slightly shorter one had massive sideburns and a quizzical look that seemed as if it must be permanently etched onto his face. The other man had a certain air about him.

Even from across the room his light-colored eyes had a shine in them.

Colin returned; you thanked him before looking to the corner again. This time the slightly taller one had caught your gaze and lifted his eyes to meet yours. You felt your face flush and quickly turned your head.

“Colin?”

“Yes?”

“Who are those two men in the corner?”

Colin looked up to see his brothers in the corner looking at him inquisitively.

“Oh, those two? You don’t want to be near the likes of them. Poorly mannered and when they were younger, they would wet the bed for years well beyond what was normal.”

You were following along for a while until that last part.

You gave Colin a quick look to see if he was being serious.

His mouth remained flat and tight-lipped for a few mere seconds before letting through a boisterous laugh.

“My apologies Y/N, those are my brothers.”

Your eyes widened at the confession.

“Your brothers?”

“Yes, lets introduce you,” he stated, beginning to pull you across the ballroom.

“Colin, No I—"

“Brothers, this is Miss y/l/n, Anthony, Benedict,” he pointed out.

You curtsied before both of them before speaking up.

“I told you, just Y/N is fine Colin.”

You weren’t sure what his brothers would say about your slight improperness. It was clear that the Bridgerton’s were a well-respected family in the ton.

You glanced at the eldest brother who you learned was named Anthony who gave you a curt nod before excusing himself to sneak off from an inquiring Lady Danbury.

You smiled at him before turning your gaze to the second eldest Bridgerton.

“Y/N here was telling me about her studies in the states. She is well-read and well-traveled.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing Colin slightly.

“You flatter me, Colin. Unfortunately, I am not perfect. For example, I am about done with all of this and was just about to call a carriage.”

“Oh, but you must stay for one more dance Y/N. Poor Benedict here has not waltzed once.”

Benedict tried to sneakily hit his brother for his clear meddling.

“While that may be true, I do not need my younger brother imposing on such a lovely lady.” Benedict states.

“Nonsense, everyone must waltz at least once,” you laughed, pulling Benedict towards the center of the room.

His eyes widened at your forwardness as he shot Colin a disapproving brotherly look, to which Colin gave him a grin and thumbs up.

As the music began you moved around the room with Benedict.

“So, Mr. Bridgerton, tell me what exactly it is you do.”

“Just Benedict is fine,” he stated, mirroring your words from earlier.

“Besides, aren’t I the one who should be questioning you about your skills?”

“That’s awfully backwards thinking, I hope you don’t get stuck that way” you replied sarcastically before being spun around.

When you returned facing Benedict, a knowing grin was stuck on his face. You were witty. He liked witty.

“I suppose that is fair. I’m an artist, well…I’m trying to be an artist. It’s a little complicated.”

You nodded understandingly, while the arts were enjoyed by many, it wasn’t exactly a noble pursuit, especially for you as a woman.

“You should come by Sir Granville’s studio, it’s quite…”

You couldn’t think of a proper word to describe the soirees Granville hosted. It was taboo and scandalous to most respectable members of society. However, if Benedict was an artist as he was claiming, he should fit right in.

“…inspiring,” you finished.

Benedict gave you an interesting look.

Little did you know, he had been to Granville’s studio, several times.

He hadn’t been in a while since his family had just returned from Aubrey Hall and the preparation for Eloise’s season had been quite hectic for his mother.

But you, picturing you at Granville’s studio was not something Benedict had imagined.

Women who were married or of low social standing was something else, but you, a young lady in her first official season stalking down the halls in such a disreputable manner. It didn’t fit the picture of the beautiful woman before him.

Benedict was quickly learning not to try and categorize you into one box.

“What do you know of Granville’s studio?” he asked seriously.

“Well, for one, I’m staying there. Two, I feel more comfortable among that community than here, if you understand what I mean…” you trail off.

Benedict gives you a small smile of understanding.

As the song ends Benedict lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently before sightly lowering it back down, fingers brushing softly as he pulls away.

“Until next time Y/N”

“I look forward to it Benedict.”

******

Two months had passed since Lady Danbury’s first ball of the season. In that time you had befriended Eloise and Colin Bridgerton, often sitting in the parlor room of their home during the daytime, chatting the day away.

As such, you had also grown closer to Penelope Featherington who also came over often. You always considered yourself to be quite perceptive, so it was evidently clear that Penelope was fond of Colin. You thought about mentioning something, but it didn’t seem like your place.

Throughout your time at the Bridgerton’s household you had seen Benedict a handful of times. Unfortunately, your encounters were reduced to small greetings, stolen glances and light brushes as you walked past each other.

Until today.

You were sitting in the empty parlor room as Eloise ran to her room to fetch some ‘evidence’ and ‘clues’ about Lady Whistledown.

“Good Afternoon Y/N” Benedict greeted as he walked in, taking a quick look around the room to find the two of you alone.

“Afternoon Mr. Bridgerton,” you greeted back, a slight teasing tone to contrast your seemingly formality.

He gave you a knowing look before continuing.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but I plan on attending Sir Granville’s tonight, I was wondering if I would see you there?”

You gave him a teasing smile before your face fell into a serious and hurt look.

“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m appalled, would a respectable young woman such as myself be caught there? Imagine the horror if the rest of the ton were to find out.”

He let out a loud laugh at your remark, in the short time that he had known you, you never failed to make him laugh.

“Yes Benedict, I’ll see you there,” you smiled.

“Good,” he replied.

******

That night you had a few drinks to help you take the edge off before guests started coming over. There was something about interacting with Benedict that made you nervous.

 You were walking around the art studio observing the nude model and the artists renditions when you felt someone lay their hand on your shoulder.

“OH! Oh my, Benedict, you scared me.”

“Sorry, love, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You continued walking around the circle, admiring the art around you.

“She’s stunning, is she not?” you questioned.

“She is,” he answered quickly.

However, when you turned to look at him his eyes were already trained on yours.

You smiled widely, walking out of the studio as Benedict followed like a lost puppy.

“Will I ever get to see your art?” you asked him.

He smiled sheepishly as his arm reached back to scratch the back of his neck.

“I certainly would let you, if there was any.”

“Practicing here for a few months and you still have nothing to show?” you teased.

Benedict gave you a look.

“I may have asked around about you,” you confessed.

“And?” he asks.

From what you have heard, both from his siblings and other people around you. Benedict was a kind and creative soul, with a great appreciation for the beauty around him.

“Your family and friends speak highly of you, that’s important.”

“What about you? What do you speak of me?”

“Besides being a tortured artist? I think highly of you.”

He nodded his head again, before responding.

“I think highly of you as well,” he whispered quietly, leaning down slightly so he was more at eye level.

You blamed the alcohol in your system for what you did next.

Yanking him down by his collar, you pulled him close and reached up until your lips were flush against his, pushing with all your might as if you would never kiss him again.

“Y/N—” he pulled away, his senses flooding back.

“This is…no, I’ve dishonored you I—”

“Oh hush Benedict, I do not care about those rules. I want you.”

He looked down at you, holding your face in his hands as he searched your eyes for confirmation.

Biting your lip and grinning up at him, Benedict couldn’t help but pull you back in, one hand sinking to your waist to pull you closer, the other rested on your cheek.

“You know this means we have to get married now?” Benedict teases.

“That means you presume I would say yes,” you teased back.

His smile grew impossibly bigger as he pulled you back in for a tender kiss.

“Let’s just see how you perform tonight before we think about marriage” you joked.

Benedict pulled back with a smirk and look in his eye you haven’t seen yet as he looked you over.

“Art is all about practicing and perfecting, we might need to practice a few times before you make your final judgement” he teased back.

You threw your head back in surprise, a large laugh leaving your lips before you smiled sweetly at him.

This was not how you imagined the social season going.

check out the rest of my work ⤑ here!

#teentvimagines #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton masterlist #bridgerton imagines #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #Spotify

[allcalculator]

BMR Calculator: Different Formulas to calculate BMR and Calculation using the BME calculator

What formulas are used to Calculate the BMR?

AllCalculator.net BMR Calculator helps estimate a person's BMR value per activity level. However, before the Calculator, some formulas were used to determine the values of BMR.

The following are the formulas.

Harris-Benedict Formula.

It is the widely used formula to calculate the BMR of a person. It depends on the energy level of an individual. However, it is important to note that it needs to be more accurate.

The revised formula js

For Males: 88.362 + (13.397 x body Weight [kg]) + (4.799 x Height of indivual [cm]) - (5.677 x Age of Indivual)

For Females: 447.593 + (9.247 x Weight of Indivual[kg]) + (3.098 x Height of individual [cm]) - (4.33 x Age of Indivual)

The second formula is Mifflin-St Jeor's. 

The American diet Association compared it with Henry Benedict Formula. As per their conclusion, this is the most accurate equation for BMR.

For Males: (9.99 x body Weight ] + (6.25 x Height of individual ) - (4.92 x Age.

of individual) + 5

Females: (9.99 x body Weight) + (6.25 x Height Of individua) - (4.92 x Age of individual) - 161

Katch-McArdle 

It uses body mass to calculate a person's metabolic rate in a resting state. If the body mass is known, the formula 

1 - Body Fat Percentage / 100) x Weight.

It can be used to calculate the BMR.

The other is the Schofield formula. WHO uses it. There was an inappropriate number of data as per the subjects, which scattered the BMR values. So it jumped the results for various communities.

How to use the BMR Calculator?

BMR Calculator is Basal Metabolic Ratw Cakcukator calculates changes happening in a body even while the body is at rest.

Understanding the Basal Metabolic Rate can help you update an individual's required calories.

It can be done by using the BMR Calculator.

Add the inputs into the Calculator, giving you the BMR. However, it is important to note that it is not an accurate BMR value.

AllCalculator.net BMR Calculator will help you understand the calories your body requires to function normally. In the BMR Calculator, follow the steps.

First, add your weight to the BMR Calculator.

Then in the second section, add the Height. 

Now next, add your age.

The last option requires you to input your gender. The BMR of males and women differ. The Calculator uses the required formula to calculate the BMR.

Now you will get the results. However, the formula or online calculator needs to give a proper calculation or accurate value of BMR. 

In case of any fitness goal or if you need the BMR value, you can visit a nutrition expert or fitness expert. One can opt for a Calorimeter to check the accuracy. It is available with the doctors.

#BMR Calculator

[nicolasnelson]

Benedict Bridgerton and Henry Granville in Bridgerton 1x07

#bridgertonedit #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #henry granville #perioddramaedit #userneve #perioddramasource #dailybridgerton #netflixedit #userrobin #userlyra #usergeo #userelsbeth #usersamanne #* #my edit #this line feels like the start of a romance #i swear #benedict x henry needs to happen

[iliveiloveiwrite]

When He Sees Me // Benedict Bridgerton

Request: Hey! I've just finished reading all of your Benedict fanfics and it's like, "let me have more!!!" *-* Could you maybe write something where the reader and Ben meet at Mr Granville's house? Where the reader is lower class and mocks him for with his lord manners, and eventually they get along well and all that? And he falls in love with her but she's just a seamstress and is scared he fetishizing her poverty and the "starving artist" lifestyle... Thanks in advance, love your writing xxx - anon.

A/N: Thank you so so much! This is such a sweet message. Thank you for requesting something from me; I can only hope I have done it justice. This is a really long fic, I know that - it really did get away from me. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy and I hope you are all well!

Title: Waitress - When He Sees Me

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and nudity, making out, amorous activities,  light voyeurism (very light), class divides, pining, mutual pining, fluff, light angst, humour, Bridgerton family feels. HAPPY ENDING.

Word count: 6.8k (this is so long, I am so sorry)

“Bridgerton!” Henry Granville calls, a large smile spreading across his face as he spies Benedict by the front door. “I was hoping you’d make it.”

“Here I am,” Benedict laughs, spreading his arms wide in evidence.

Granville chuckles, grabbing a glass from a nearby tray and handing it to Benedict who takes a healthy sip immediately. “Come,” Granville gestures, “Let me show you around.”

Benedict follows the man he already classes as a friend. He hums at the appropriate time, eyes dancing around every room he is taken into, taking in the numerous pieces of art and the growing number of people.

Finally, Granville leads him to a room bathed in studious silence. Five people stand in the room; four stand behind easels – the picture of concentration as brushes scratching on canvas is the only sound in the room. The fifth person stands proudly before the back wall; posing elegantly, a lady stands completely naked save for an apple held delicately in the palm of her hand.

“This is Ariadne, our life model for tonight,” Granville introduces, smiling at the model without an ounce of care that she stands naked in his living room.

“Ariadne,” Benedict nods, doing his best to look anywhere but her naked body. He wasn’t usually this awkward around women, but the last thing he expected tonight was a life model. His usual influences for art came from clothed members of the public.

Granville takes a seat at an easel, studying Ariadne with great care before picking up a thin brush. As he runs it through the nearby oil paint, he calls to Benedict, “Join us!”

Benedict shakes his head, heading towards the door. Granville nods understandingly; it was a lot for a person’s first time at a soiree such as this. “Another time perhaps,” Granville says as Benedict leaves the room.

Closing the door, Benedict leaves the artists to their muse. His fingers twitch for his sketchpad, thinking of the images he could create; he had seen the empty seat in front of a spare easel, but he couldn’t bring himself to sit down and create the art he saw in his mind. Another time, he thinks to himself.

He turns away from the door where his attention is immediately tethered to a couple across the hallway.

The couple are in the middle of an embrace; connected at the mouth with hands beginning to wander clothing. The stays to the lady’s dress are loosened, the relieved gasp quickly swallowed by her partner’s mouth. Hands continue to wander; moans swallowed by joint mouths. It’s a sight to behold even as the position is changed; the woman straddling her partner, beginning to move her hips to the rhythm of music only they must be able to hear.

Unable to tear his stare away from the couple, Benedict feels his mouth drop open at the impropriety before him.

“Come now, Mr. Bridgerton,” A feminine voice teases, “Surely you’ve seen worse.”

Benedict bristles; unhappy with the tone of her voice and the accusation lightly punctuating the air. “Not that it is any of your business, but I have seen worse.”

Her eyebrows fly into her hair, clearly not expecting the rebuff. Benedict represses a smile at the expression on her face; his eyes dance around the hallway, not knowing where to look without fear of landing on the amorous couple. Benedict had never been one to shy away from love and lust and where it can lead you, but he had never been witness to such an event. The last thing he needed for himself (and his family) was to be classed as a voyeur.

“Follow me,” She announces, crooking a finger at Benedict before walking away.

Helpless and out of his comfort zone, Benedict follows the nameless lady. His eyes pour over her figure as he walks behind her like a lost puppy; her dress is finely made, the fabric clearly new. Benedict keeps his eyes fixed head, refusing to let his gaze drop any lower as she opens a door, standing to one side to let him enter first.

The room is adequately sized; enough room for a fireplace already blazing, a couch big enough for two and a small table and chairs. It’s comfortable; the room is well lit from the candles around the room and the large fire.

The well-dressed lady follows Benedict into the room, leaving him standing in the centre as she heads towards a drinks cabinet. She grabs two glasses and a decanter of liquid that Benedict cannot decipher. Scotch, whisky, brandy – all three would fare him well at this point.

Wordlessly, she hands Benedict a drink. A knuckle’s length of amber liquid swirls in the glass, lit up by the roaring fire. “You have me at a disadvantage,” Benedict starts, “You know my name, but I do not know yours.”

She smiles; eyes crinkling from the force of it. “You can spy a Bridgerton by the colour of their eyes,” She snorts, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it, “I’m (Y/N).”

Benedict bows his head; the very picture of gentlemanly politeness. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

If possible, (Y/N)’s smile grows larger, trying her hardest to repress the laughter bubbling inside of her. “This isn’t your usual scene, Mr. Bridgerton.”

Benedict shakes his head. “I’m a friend of Henry’s and call me Benedict please. After being witness to the couple outside, I think we can forgo formalities.”

Laughter escapes her mouth, powerless to help herself. Benedict frowns at her reaction, but (Y/N) waves a hand in apology. “I remembered your face,” She offers in explanation, “You mentioned that you had seen worse, but you still looked so scandalised.”

Benedict huffs, crossing his legs, sipping at his drink before answering. “I didn’t know what to expect from tonight. Henry is an artist! I just never expected that.”

“We’re all artists, Benedict, in one form or another. We’re practically bohemian.”

“Does that happen often?” He asks, nodding towards the door where Benedict holds no doubt that more clothing will have been lost between the enamoured couple.

(Y/N) lifts a single shoulder in a shrug. “More often than not. The intimacy that is required with art combined with the amount of alcohol consumed tends to lead to such things.”

“Have you ever taken part in such things?” Benedict asks before realising the extent and implication of his words. “Forgive me,” He coughs, “I’m not usually so forward. You don’t need to answer.”

“No, I don’t think I do,” (Y/N) answers honestly, amused at the lack of filter from the Bridgerton. “Why don’t I ask the next question?”

“Please do,” Benedict responds, loosening the cravat at his neck, deciding to take it off altogether.

“Tell me,” She begins, eyes on the skin now bare to the room, “Do you prefer paints or pastels?”

“Neither,” Benedict answers, “I prefer graphite or charcoal.”

“Interesting…”

“Is it?”

“It is! But I cannot think of a reason why.”

Benedict snorts, draining the last few amber drops in his glass. Silent for a moment, Benedict hums before asking, “Do you draw?”

“Heavens no,” (Y/N) responds, “I’m a talented seamstress, but landscapes and watercolours are not for me.”

“Then why are you here?” Benedict asks; the words unintentionally sharp. He cringes before offering (Y/N) an apologetic smile.

“My friend invited me,” (Y/N) defends, “You met her earlier.”

“I did?”

(Y/N) nods. “You did. She was the life model you were trying your hardest not to ogle.”

Benedict flushes; heat spreading from his neck to his cheeks – partly fuelled by the alcohol in his system, partly fuelled by the knowledge of being caught out. Benedict clears his throat, unable to hide his embarrassment. “I didn’t think anyone had noticed.”

(Y/N) smiles widely. “They didn’t, but you don’t make it habit to frequent such parties. It was clearly a shock to your system.”

Benedict exhales with a laugh; all the while wishing he had another drink in his hand. “I’m not new to art,” He confesses, “But I am new to this… environment.”

(Y/N) leans forward in her chair; her eyes sparkling in the dim candlelight. A coy smile crosses her lips and Benedict idly wonders what she would taste like as she asks, “And what do you think of this new environment?”

Benedict drags his gaze away from (Y/N)’s mouth to look her in the eyes. Evenings like this are something he could quickly get used to so long as he had her company in the early hours of the morn. A wicked grin spreads across his face as he answers, “With your company, I’m fairly certain that I could come to enjoy this new environment.”

“Only fairly?” (Y/N) murmurs, sipping at her drink before continuing, “I think we’re going to have to turn ‘fairly’ into an absolute.”

Benedict tips his head to one side, wondering whether it would go against societal customs to offer his hand in marriage after only knowing someone for an evening. The thought lingers at the back of Benedict’s mind as he replies, “I have complete and utter faith in your ability to do such a thing.”

(Y/N)’s answering smile has Benedict wondering about marriage for a second time in less than two minutes. What would be the appropriate time to ask someone for their hand? He thinks. A powerful enough thought that Benedict has to look away from her; desperate not to ruin a newly budding friendship.

The clock strikes one; the chimes making (Y/N) jump as they ring through the tension-filled room. A sad sigh leaves her lips as she stands, placing her glass on a nearby table.

“I’m afraid I must go,” She declares, biting her bottom lip, lingering in front of the Bridgerton.

Benedict rises from his seat, his voice close to wobbling as he murmurs, “Must you?”

(Y/N) smiles wistfully. “Not all of us have family money, Benedict. I have two dresses to finish for tomorrow evening and I need to sleep.”

“Will I see you again?” He asks, unable to keep the hope from his voice as his mind spins all sorts of fantasies of their next meeting.

(Y/N) nods; Benedict’s heart soars.

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Benedict Bridgerton. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Benedict replies a second too late. She’s gone and Benedict is left to wondering how many seamstresses there are in London.

-------------

If Benedict was thinking logically, he knew that there wasn’t thousands of modistes and seamstresses across London. He knew that the number was much closer to hundreds, but to him that was still too many. He thinks back over the interactions from that night, examining the conversations, trying to find a hint of whether (Y/N) had given him the address of her shop. The more he cross examines, the less evidence he finds.

At this point in his investigation to her whereabouts, Benedict was no longer thinking logically. He was thinking with his heart – desperate to see her again so soon. He didn’t want to have to wait until another party where she just might show up. No, he wanted to see her in her own environment where Benedict had no doubt she would flourish.

He makes himself wait three days before beginning the task of tracking her down. His first port of call was to Henry Granville, asking whether he knew anything of the lady accompanying the life model. Henry knew of her by face, but not much bar her first name. He leaves Benedict with a word of encouragement and a promise of another party soon; Benedict thanks the man heartily, knowing that Henry had tried his best.

However, it left Benedict in a predicament that meant he had to bring in reinforcements.

“I need your help,” Benedict pleads of his dear sister, Eloise Bridgerton a day after starting his hunt for her.

“Whatever for?”

“I need to find someone… a friend.”

“A friend?” Eloise asks sounding very much as if she didn’t believe a word leaving her elder brother’s mouth.

“Am I not allowed to have friends?” Benedict asks of his sister, exasperated at her curiosity. Eloise raises a single eyebrow, and it isn’t a minute later that Benedict begs of his sister, “Please do not tell mother.”

The laughter that leaves Eloise lasts for the next three streets, her chuckles grating on Benedict’s nerves. “Where did you meet her?” Eloise eventually asks, much calmer now that she had gotten the laughter out of her system.

“At Mr. Granville’s if you must know.”

Eloise doesn’t answer; she casts her gaze across her brother’s face, reading eh expression there and the hopeful look in his eyes. Whoever she was, she had done a number on her brother for him to be this desperate to find her.

“Why not wait for the next party?”

Benedict huffs, “She may not go to the next party, then I would be back at the beginning.”

Eloise falls silent again. She watches her older brother, watches how he fiddles with his fingers – a nervous tic he’s hand since he was a boy apparently, it happened more when he was itching to reach for his sketchpad in an attempt to keep his mind quiet.

“She’s really made an impression on you, hasn’t she?”

Benedict sighs, peering up at his sister as he calms his hands. “Please?” He asks quietly, not daring to voice the beg any louder than it needs to be.

Eloise reaches across the gap between them, covering Benedict’s hands with hers. For a moment, he isn’t the elder brother but a man in need of help. “I’ll help you, Benedict.”

“Thank you,” He replies; the relief in his voice evident as his whole body relaxes.

-----------

The tightness in his chest that has plagued him for the last week lifts as soon as his eyes land on her. She hasn’t seen him yet; too busy with another client gushing about their latest dress. (Y/N) looks flattered as she takes in compliment after compliment and Benedict can see why; she is clearly a talented modiste. If it didn’t raise suspicion on his end, he would suggest his mother come here instead of the seamstress just off Grosvenor Square.

The customer soon departs leaving Benedict and Eloise the sole clients in the shop. (Y/N) brushes down her dress, collecting herself before greeting her newest customers.

She freezes when she finds the tall stature of Benedict Bridgerton in and amongst the countless mannequins of her shop. Plastering on a polite smile, she steps forward, “How may I help you today?”

Benedict remains frozen; his stare solely focused on (Y/N). Eloise steps forward, nudging her brother in the side with her elbow. Eloise smiles at (Y/N). “From my brother’s reaction, we have found who we were looking for.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m in the market for a new dress,” Eloise states, elbowing her brother once more.

“Yes!” Benedict coughs, brought out of his stupor, “Eloise needs a new dress.”

(Y/N) glances between the siblings; the awed expression on Benedict’s face combined with the knowing smile on Eloise’s doesn’t settle her nerves. Instead, it heightens them. (Y/N) turns to Eloise, flashing her a friendly smile. “If you wouldn’t mind, could I borrow your brother?”

Eloise snorts. “You may keep him if that helps.”

(Y/N) laughs, covering her mouth before grabbing Benedict’s hand, leading him to the back of the shop. “What are you doing here?” (Y/N) questions; her eyes wide as she closes the door behind them. This was a conversation to have in private; not one to be had in front of Benedict’s sister.

“Accompanying my sister to buy a new dress for an upcoming ball,” Benedict replies smartly, his tone innocent as he applauds himself for asking Eloise to join him on his mission.

(Y/N) fixes him with a flat look, not believing a single word leaving his lips. Benedict flounders for a second before smiling bashfully at the seamstress. It wasn’t often that Benedict was left speechless, but (Y/N) reduced him to such manners.

After a moment, Benedict sighs, deciding honesty to be the best policy. “I wanted to see you again.”

(Y/N)’s face softens at Benedict’s confession, unable to fend off the growing fondness for the Bridgerton. If she was being honest with herself, (Y/N) hadn’t stopped thinking of the man since leaving Mr. Granville’s party.

Just as quick as the fondness set in, so does the worry on Benedict’s behalf. Gesturing between them both, (Y/N) offers Benedict a sad smile. “Nothing can come of this, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“What do you mean? Call me Benedict, you did the other night.”

“There were no class lines the other night,” She all but cries, “Outside of Mr. Granville’s home, we cannot be friends, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Benedict,” He emphasises, “To you, I am Benedict. Not ‘Mr. Bridgerton’.”

“Benedict,” She whispers, giving in to the pleading look in those blue eyes of his.

“Why can’t we be friends?” He asks quietly as if scared to voice such a question louder out of fear of the response.

“You’re the son of a Viscount. I am a seamstress. Outside of my making dresses for your female relatives, where do our paths cross socially?”

“I want them to cross,” Benedict protests almost childishly, crossing his arms as if they were the personification of the budding relationship blooming between (Y/N) and himself.

(Y/N) laughs without humour. “Think of the fallout, Benedict. You would lose friends and contacts. I would be reduced to the rumour of a mistress and lose clients.”

Benedict purses his lips; trying to find fault in her argument but he comes up empty. Class lines were so rigidly drawn in current society and Benedict knew that (Y/N) was more than deserving to be thrown to the vicious rumour mill of London ton.

“What about Granville’s parties?” Benedict offers as a solution. “You say we cannot socialise so openly so let’s meet there with every party.”

“You would go to that extent to win my friendship?”

He nods. “I had the most fun the other night than I had in a long time and I have a very strong feeling it was down to you. You say we cannot be friends so openly, so this is the next best thing. Do I feel go about keeping you a secret? Not particularly, but London society can be unforgivably cruel, and I’ll be damned if I see you suffer at the hands of it.”

(Y/N) blinks rapidly, ridding herself of the tears that grew throughout Benedict’s impassioned speech. “Mr. Granville’s it is, then.”

Benedict smiles; relief flooding his system at your words of agreement. Impulsively, he takes your hand, squeezing it once before letting it drop. The very action sets his veins alight with emotions he has not felt in a very long time, but he doesn’t not let them distract him as he whispers, “I’ll send a messenger with the date and time of the next soiree. Will I see you there?”

“You will,” (Y/N) murmurs, “I promise you.”

Benedict flashes her a handsome smile before returning to the front of the shop, knowing full well he has been too long to be acceptable.

Eloise greets him with a superior smile. Crossing her arms, she asks, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Turning back to face the back of the shop, Benedict smiles to himself. “Yes, I think I have,” He answers, offering Eloise an arm, departing the shop once and for all.

-----------

28th April, 9pm. Mr. Granville’s home. I hope to see you there.

The missive arrives not four days later. (Y/N) reads and rereads the small piece of paper, memorising Benedict’s elegant handwriting. Anticipation curls in her gut making it hard for her to focus on the task at hand; she had three dresses to finish all for next week. If she didn’t focus now, nothing would get done. She would end up wasting the evening by daydreaming of a Bridgerton and their handsome smile.

She hadn’t expected him. He had entered her life so suddenly. After their initial meeting, she hadn’t expected to see him again; had accepted that it was a one-off meeting that Benedict would soon forget, soon taken with the newest fascination in his life if he wasn’t married off by the end of the season.

That didn’t happen. Instead, he had shown up in her shop with his sister in tow. He had begged for a friendship, to see her again. He kept surprising her at every turn, kept startling her when she least expected it.

Yet, she knew she had to be careful. Not only of her heart, but of her reputation. If the two were caught and things misunderstood, it would not be Benedict to suffer. It would be her; she would be reduced to rumours of impropriety, labelled a ‘fallen woman’ whilst Benedict would most likely suffer a harsh word from his mother and a clap on the back from his brothers.

Society, in general, was cruel. London society, however, was punishing when it wanted to be.

--------------

The 28th April rolls around quickly. (Y/N) losing herself in her work, sewing until the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning to ensure that the gowns are ready and that she is free enough to attend the party.

Stepping out of the carriage, (Y/N) steadies herself for a moment, taking a deep breath to settle the butterflies exciting her. She felt ridiculous, letting herself be this affected by the man after only one meeting. Yet, he had shown up at her shop, after searching for her for however long.

(Y/N) felt in two minds. On one hand, she wanted the friendship of Benedict Bridgerton for the simple fact that he was entertaining. On the other hand, she despised the idea that she may be a project for the man – their opposite places in society becoming a barrier between them.

The atmosphere in Mr. Granville’s house is heady as (Y/N) enters the premises; the party very much in full swing as she sheds her shawl and leaves it on a side table. She smiles at those she recognises, waving quickly at Ariadne who she finds modelling for many artists once more. Ariadne smiles back but doesn’t move; her eye on a particular artist, a female she knew she would be going home with that night.

(Y/N) shakes her head fondly at the antics of her friend; having known Ariadne for years and loved her proclivity for men and women. (Y/N) admired Ariadne’s lack of shame for who she is, who she wants to be. She doesn’t let the law stop of her from loving who she wants to.

Arriving at the door she entered through last time, (Y/N) hesitates, feeling unsure of herself. A small flash of doubt lances through her mind as she reaches for the doorknob; how long was this going to last before Benedict got bored? How long did she have with the man that was no doubt going to change her world?

The very thought haunts her as she enters the room, finding Benedict in the same spot as last time. He stands when he sees (Y/N) standing the doorway; his suit elegantly rumpled as if he had been sat there for some time. His blue eyes sparkle in the dimly lit room; the only light coming from the fire in the grate. His smile brightens as he takes in her appearance.

“You came,” Benedict breathes, his voice relieved as if he was worried that she may not attend the party after all.

“I promised you I would,” (Y/N) replies, taking the offered glass from Benedict. Their fingers brush and (Y/N) tries exceptionally hard to ignore the jolt of electricity that passes between them. Friendship, she snipes to herself, nothing more.

“I know,” He whispers, “But I’m glad all the same.”

Something in (Y/N) melts at the stark honesty of his words; she found herself being knocked off her axis and it was only their third meeting.

“I have to know,” (Y/N) starts, her voice amused as she takes a seat across from the brunette, “How many shops did you go into before finding mine?”

Benedict averts his gaze, distracting himself from answering by taking a long sip of his drink. “Too many,” He eventually answers.

“You don’t know the number?”

“I know the exact number, I could even tell you their names, but I hesitate to tell you.”

“You have to tell me now,” (Y/N) prompts, leaning forward in her chair, resting her elbows on the table. “Please?”

Benedict sighs a war-weary sigh; acting as if (Y/N) had worn him down to his very last nerve. With a light blush dusting his cheeks, Benedict admits, “I visited close to fifteen shops with Eloise before finding yours.”

“Fifteen?!” (Y/N) all but shouts, laughter soon falling from her lips as rain would fall from the sky. The very sound sets Benedict’s heart racing within his chest making him wonder whether it was going to run right out of his chest any moment.

“Eloise was very grateful when we found you. She despises dress shopping.”

“Yet she went to fifteen dress shops with you in order to find me.”

“She’s my favourite sibling, but don’t tell the others.”

“How many do you have? I’ve heard of the famous Bridgerton brood but never focused long enough to find out how many children there were.”

“Eight of us in total,” Benedict laughs at (Y/N)’s gasp, “We’re named alphabetically too. My father used to joke it was so he could keep track of us easier.”

“A wise idea,” (Y/N) murmurs.

“He was a wise man,” Benedict states, thinking of his departed father with a keen sting of grief. It didn’t matter how long his father had been gone, the wound would never heal. He would miss his father until his very last day on this earth; Benedict would spend the rest of his life trying to emulate Edmund Bridgerton’s life lessons.

A pensive silence descends only for a moment before (Y/N) asks, “Why did you look for me?”

The blush returns to Benedict’s cheeks. “Would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you again?” He asks sheepishly. He had prepared himself for such a conversation but having it in real life was no comparison to the fantasy in his head.

“Why did you want to see me again? Why not wait for the next party?”

“I wasn’t sure you would attend the next party,” Benedict reasons, “And I really did want to see you again.”

(Y/N) smiles bashfully, ducking her head as his words wash over her. She fiddles with the stem of the glass in her hand before taking a long sip; the worries from earlier had returned with the conviction behind his words. She had to know; if she didn’t ask him, she would never know and she would never be prepared for the day he would inevitably grow bored and move onto the next project. “Can we be honest with each other for a moment, Benedict?”

“I thought we have been so far.”

(Y/N) smiles despite herself. Schooling her face into a mask of polite interest, she tries to cover the concern and worry steadily rising in her gut. “This isn’t a saviour moment for you is it? Befriending a poorer seamstress, getting to know her before eventually getting bored?”

“I haven’t thought of it as that for one moment.”

“You haven’t?”

“I haven’t, but the fact that you have says more about my character than I care to admit.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” She hurries to say, worried about losing the friendship that had only just begun and scared of hurting Benedict’s feelings.

“You haven’t insulted me,” Benedict promises with a small smile.

“I can’t help but worry,” She admits in a small voice.

“I would socialise with you in public, but you made such a sound argument the other week that I couldn’t find fault. You’re right, it could lead to all sorts of trouble, but I want you to know that I do not have a saviour complex. I just enjoy your company.”

(Y/N) relaxes, sagging further into the chair as she lets herself breathe freely since the worrisome thought entered her mind. Now that it was out in the open, she could smile more without worry. “I enjoy your company too,” She confesses, “You’re quite refreshing.”

“Refreshing?” Benedict asks, sounding close to laughter.

(Y/N) rolls her eyes at the older gentleman. “Yes, refreshing. I deal with meddlesome mothers and droll daughters all day. You make me laugh… it’s refreshing.”

“I’m glad I can provide refreshment,” Benedict laughs, his smile wide with his happiness.

Happy smiles are exchanged as the worries leave (Y/N)’s mind. She was wanted here by the man sat across from her; he had no plans to leave any time soon. For now, her mind is settled and as she raises her glass to the Bridgerton across from her, she briefly wonders whether her heart would soon be settled too.

------------

The friendship continues for weeks; neither of them the wiser to their growing feelings for the other. If they are, they remain silent, not wanting to disturb the status quo but rather, pine from a distance.

They continue to meet at Mr. Granville’s, sneaking away to their room where they talk for hours about anything and everything.

At one point, (Y/N) manages to convince Benedict to bring his sketchpad with him where he fills pages with drawings of her. She doesn’t realise it; she doesn’t know that the small sketch of hands holding a champagne flute is Benedict’s study of her.

Time passes and they become attached to the other; saving pieces of information and stories of friends and family for when they finally get to see each other. The time they have together filled with laughter; the class lines that separate them outside Mr. Granville’s home practically invisible as Benedict chokes on his drink at the scandalous nature of (Y/N)’s story, unaware such language could leave such a woman.

It’s easy, it’s natural. It’s all Benedict has to fill his time between the mind-numbing balls and luncheons set up by his mother in order to find him a wife. Little does Violet Bridgerton know that Benedict has found someone he would devote the rest of his life to but whether she would be willing, whether she loves him as wholly as he loves her is another matter entirely.

--------------

He starts to haunt her dreams from their very first meeting. The colour of his eyes combined with the brightness of his smile chased her from sleep much faster than she would have liked.

Sitting up in bed, she rests her chin on her knees, feeling the helplessness that often accompanies the swift descent into love.

In the short time she had spent in Benedict’s company, (Y/N) had to admit that she had fallen head over heels for the brunette. Sighing heavily, she tries to pinpoint the exact moment her feelings turned from platonic to romantic but finds herself unable to do so. At this point, she cannot help but wonder whether she had fallen for him the first instance she saw him. He looked so out of depth in his perfectly pressed clothes; it was adorable.

(Y/N) runs a hand across her face in an attempt to dispel the lingering tiredness but to also ride herself of thoughts of the man who had so readily captured her heart without knowing he had done so.

How could she explain this feeling? Her heart refused to calm in his presence, beating away in her chest as if ready to take flight. Benedict smiled in her direction and her mind ceased to form coherent thought. She didn’t tell anyone how in the darkest hours of the night, she stretched a hand across the empty blankets of her bed, imagining what it would be like to have Benedict lie next to her. Would he snore? Was he an early riser or did he prefer to sleep in?

Such questions would travel the expanse of her mind until the birds began to announce the arrival of a new day. Her mind creating daydreams that left her heart aching in her chest when she came back to earth, reminded harshly of the barriers that divided them.

What scent did he prefer? Did he favour scotch or brandy?

Endlessly she tortured herself with such questions. Spinning fantasies in which she woke up every morning with Benedict by her side. She would wake to find him already watching her, as if in disbelief that she would choose to love a man such as him.

A single tear escapes (Y/N)’s eye as she forces herself back to the present. Eyeing her small rooms, (Y/N) thought that she should be fortunate that a man such as Benedict Bridgerton would give her the honour of his much requested time. It would do her no good to fall in love with him now.

Straightening up and running a hand through her sleep plait, (Y/N) vows to rid herself of her feelings for the second eldest Bridgerton.

However, as the vow is sealed, a small voice in the back of (Y/N)’d mind casts doubt on her ability to do such a thing.

----------------

“Eloise has been asking after you,” Benedict comments; choosing the line of conversation for this section of the evening. At this point, they’ve been at Granville’s home for hours, covering all topics of conversation conceivable. (Y/N) had updated Benedict on Ariadne’s clandestine love affair with a daughter of a prominent member of His Majesty’s Navy to which Benedict spent over an hour trying to guess which officer and which daughter. (Y/N) delighted in announcing his incorrect guesses.

“How is she?” She asks, feeling a distant fondness for the woman who had shown up in her shop so many weeks ago.

“Distracted if I’m being truthful,” Benedict murmurs, “Her hands are always covered in ink. I think she has an admirer.”

“And why shouldn’t she?” (Y/N) demands, crossing her arms. “Eloise is a beautiful young woman. Any man would be lucky to have her.”

“She’s turned down the last three marriage proposals so I’m curious to see what type of man has captured her attention.”

“Siblings and their nosiness,” (Y/N) admonishes though there is no heat behind it.

“I want what’s best for her,” Benedict defends.

“I know you do,” She whispers, fondness for the man sitting across from her surging through her. It leaves her quiet; it leaves her breathless as she fends off the heart racing, stomach turning affection she feels for the second eldest Bridgerton.

Benedict closes his eyes, kicking up his heels and resting them on the table. A happy, content smile crosses his lips as he lets himself enjoy the moment they find themselves in.

I could do this for the rest of myself, (Y/N) thinks to herself, I could sit with him for the rest of my life.

It’s with that thought that (Y/N) knows she has broken the vow she made only a few days ago.

“You’re different tonight… quieter. Is something the matter?” Benedict asks, a note of concern in his voice.

(Y/N) shakes her head, refusing to look the man in the eye. Instead, she focuses her gaze on her glass, swirling the liquid around as if it were the most fascinating thing in the whole world.

Benedict sighs, reaching across the table, taking her glass from her hand and placing it on the table in front of them. He stops himself from covering her hand with his; that is a luxury for couples. As much as Benedict wanted more, he would settle for being her friend.

“You can tell me anything, (Y/N),” Benedict murmurs quietly, breaking her resolve clean in half.

“I broke my vow,” She whispers, voice close to breaking.

“What vow?” Benedict asks, panic beginning to rise internally. “Are you promised to another?”

“Nothing like that,” (Y/N) reassures, “I broke a vow that I made to myself which somehow makes me feel worse. I would rather I broke a promise of marriage.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

(Y/N) sniffles, wiping a hand under her eyes before laughing humourlessly. “A few nights ago, I made myself a promise and it seems that I am unable to keep such a vow.”

“Would you tell me that vow?”

(Y/N) sighs, seeing no point in lying to him. “I vowed that I would rid myself of my feelings for you.”

“And have you?” Benedict asks warily; he needs to know whether he has a chance to love her the way he wants to. He wants to be her everything; he wants to kiss her goodnight and then kiss her good morning hours later.

She shakes her head; wisps of hair flying loose from her updo. “I don’t think I ever really tried. I don’t think I want to lose my feelings for you.”

“I don’t often make grand declarations, I don’t believe in over the top displays of affection,” Benedict begins; his eyes fixed on her face, on every movement of her lips, “But I love you, (Y/N). I love you and if I need to, I will make a grand declaration, I will shout it from the rooftop of Buckingham Palace.”

“Please don’t do that!” (Y/N) gasps, an amused smile on her face. “I love you too, I love you with everything I am, but aren’t you worried?”

“Worried?”

“Of the fallout? It could never work, Benedict. See sense, please,” She pleads; eyes wide.

“Why wouldn’t it work? We love each other, surely that should be enough.”

“It is enough for me, Benedict,” She reassures quickly, “But it isn’t enough for the rest of society.”

“Why do you care what they think?”

“My entire business relies on such things, Benedict! Whether I earn an income over the season is down to what the ton think.”

“It is so easy to get lost in the wealth, the titles and the balls,” Benedict whispers, “You bring me back down to earth; remind me that I could happily live without the grandeur because I would have the love of the woman I have come to adore.”

The words have her argument crumbling into ash before her. There was no arguing with that; he was prepared to live a simpler life with her.

“You would do that for me? Live a simpler life?” She asks because she has to know; she has to know that she isn’t something he would come to regret in the weeks, months, years that pass. She couldn’t live with herself if he harboured any resentment towards her for his loss of societal ties; the very thought terrified her.

“Darling,” Benedict states, “I would give it all up for you. As long as I have you, I do not need the life in London and everything else that comes with it. We can live in the country; I have a cottage there that I am sure you’re going to love.”

“What about your family?”

“They’ll love your almost as much as I love you.”

“They won’t hate me?” She asks, voice timid as she thinks of the matriarch of the Bridgerton family, knowing she was not a woman to cross.

“They could never.”

(Y/N) begins to nod; slow at first before growing more rapidly with a smile breaking out across her face. “Okay,” She breathes, “I love you, Benedict Bridgerton. I’m not scared anymore.”

Benedict gathers her in his arms, finally getting to hold her after dreaming of such an action for so long. Better than his dreams, he thinks to himself as he glances between her stare and her lips. Silently, she nods, smiling softly as Benedict takes that final leap, pressing their lips together.

(Y/N) sighs against his mouth; a noise he could happily hear for the rest of his life. Her hands grasp the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer. She feels like heaven against him as Benedict continues to taste the remnants of her drink on her lips.

Her hands leave his jacket, reaching up to card through his hair. (Y/N) tugs lightly at the dark brown locks, smiling into the kiss at the sound of the low groan in the back of Benedict’s throat. (Y/N) loses herself in the feel of the man against her; all hard lines and muscles, he feels like a Greek god and she a mere mortal getting to experience the heady passion written about in epic poems and plays.

Desperate for air, but not desperate to leave the arms of the man she loves so wholly, (Y/N) breaks the kiss. Panting, Benedict kisses her lightly once, twice, three times before pressing his forehead to hers. A moment of peace before the rush of the future began.

Boundaries, divides, lines really meant little when you had found the one who truly saw you.

****

Bridgerton Taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @dreaming-about-fanfictions​ @janelongxox​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @aspiringsloth20​ @wallwriterstuff​ @magicalxdaydream​ @darkestbeforethedawn16​ @gryffindors-weasley​ @spideysz​

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagines #Bridgerton #bridgerton imagines

[justthehiddleswrites]

Anesthesia | Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Summary:  Tom suffers a serious car accident and the reader is the nurse on duty in the ER. Tom and anesthesia don't mix and Tom acts very out of character. Can Tom regain his composure or will he continue to shamelessly flirt with the reader? And is Benedict going to work all of this to his advantage?

Warnings: Car Accidents, Hospitals, Anesthesia Makes people act crazy, Tom quoting Shakespeare

-

“Tom?”

Tom’s eyes fluttered, and he blinked several times, adjusting to the bright white light.

“Nurse! He is waking up!”

Nurse? Waking up? Tom reached out and cold metal hit his hands. Safety rails. The air was cool, dry, and sterile. As he attempted to sit up, he felt a cold air hit his bare back.

“Hey buddy, lie back down. You gave us quite a scare,” the familiar voice reassured him as he lowered himself back down to the bed.

Tom turned his head to the sound and once he saw Benedict’s face he smiled. Ben smiled back.

“Welcome back to Earth, Tom.”

“Thanks, what happened?”

The last thing Tom remembered was climbing into the stunt car to rehearse the big action shot. After that, it was just flashes of fire, screams and sirens.

“The brakes failed and the stunt coordinator doesn’t know what happened. But the important thing is you got out alive.”

Tom attempted to sit up again and felt winces of pain throughout his body.

“What was the damage?”

Benedict looked down.

“To you or the car?”

“The car… of course me! I feel as though a Mack truck hit me.”

“You are not far off. You broke your clavicle, wrist, and a few ribs. Um… lacerations everywhere and a… a ruptured spleen.”

Tom twisted to see his friend’s face better and felt the stitches and bandages strain. He winced at the sharp pain on his left side. Benedict hit the call button and in minutes, the nurse arrived.

She smiled as she approached the bed.

“Feeling pain?”

Tom nodded.

She looked at your chart before adding some pain meds to Tom’s IV.

“That should do. I would suggest lying down and the doctor should be in about twenty minutes.”

Tom thanked her and couldn’t help but notice her gazing over her shoulder as she left the room. Her smile barely contained her giggles. Tom’s eyes widened.

“Do they know who I am?”

Benedict averted his eyes and rose from the chair, feigning interest in the generic artwork on the wall. Tom narrowed his eyes at the clear avoidance of the question.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Oh boy, you don’t remember anything when you got here, do you?”

Tom shook his head.

“No, what happened?”

“You were in a lot of pain. Tell me have you ever been under anesthesia before?”

“Maybe, once or twice…” Tom questioned, but then he stared his friend down for answers.

“What did I say, Ben?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do. Sit down and tell me, and I will decide if you live or die.”

Dejected, Ben returned to the chair and let a sigh out.

“I’m sorry, Tom.”

Four Hours Earlier

The gurney burst through the ER doors just fifteen minutes after you started your shift. Emergency room shifts are never boring but physically and emotionally draining. You put down your cup of coffee and headed in to assess the patient.

A man lied, groaning on the gurney. His face covered in scrapes and blood staining his ginger whiskers. His left wrist sat at an unnatural angle and his shirt cut away by the paramedics to administer help.

“Car accident,” the EMT relayed, “stunt gone wrong.”

A specific hazard unique to Los Angeles. They wheeled him to the examination room and put him onto the bed with care. He wore a C-collar, but the jostling stirred the man. His eyelids fluttered open and his blue eyes work to focus on his surroundings.

“Hey…” you looked down at his chart, “Tom. How are you doing?”

“Pain.”

“I know you are in pain, but where?”

Tom gestured to the left side of his abdomen.

“Okay.” You grabbed some morphine and added it to his IV. “Any allergies?”

He shook his head.

“Anyone come with you?”

As if on cue, Benedict pulled back the curtain.

“I did.”

You recognized the man standing before you. Benedict Cumberbatch was quite the movie star.

“Really?” You attempted to keep your cool. This was no time for fan girling.

Within minutes, Benedict could communicate the information about not only the accident but Tom’s medical history as well. It had all been on file with the production company.

The doctor came in and did a quick examination.

“We need to get a CT scan and X-rays. Looks like there may be internal injuries.”

You nodded as you prepared to wheel Tom down the hall.

“Ready to go for a ride?” you asked.

Tom nodded and gave a goofy smile.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N, Y/N. That’s a beautiful name. My name is Tom Fucking Hiddleston.”

The drugs were doing their job.

“Nice to meet you, Tom. We will take you for some tests.”

“But I didn’t study!” he sounded dismayed.

You could not suppress your laugh.

“I think you will be fine.”

Tom grabbed your hand and looked up at you, tears in his eyes.

“Will you help me study?” he asked with a serious tone.

“Of course.”

Tom continued to babble on for the rest of the trip to imaging. He spoke about how nice you smelled and how pretty your eyes look. The full court press of flirting. As you reached the room, you and the other nurse lifted Tom onto the machine.

“Here you go.”

Tom grabbed your hand once again.

“Please don’t leave. I’m scared of the dark.”

While his words spoke of her fear, his eyes and smile said something else.

“Are you flirting with me, Mr. Hiddleston?”

His smile only grew.

“Is it working?”

You leaned in to his ear to whisper, “No, but the drugs are.”

Tom pouted.

“Not fair.”

“But you are cute.”

His face lit up once again.

“I came, saw and overcame.” Tom was being dramatic.

At that point, the other nurse started up the machine, and you walked away to let the rest of nurses to care for his needs. After his scans, you headed back to the waiting area. You found Benedict pacing the floor in anticipation. His long fingers alternating between steepling in front of his face and raking through his hair. As you approached, you cleared your throat.

“Yes?” his voice shared a tone of concern and hopefulness.

“A few broken bones but the big thing is that his spleen has ruptured. He needs surgery right away.”

Ben’s face fell.

“Will he be okay?”

You nodded.

“He will make a full recovery. Would you like to see him before they send him in to operating?”

You led Ben back to where they were prepping Tom for surgery. The anesthesiologist added drugs to the IV and Tom was now in a full hospital gown. His tattered rags of clothes in the garbage.

“No fair!” Tom bellowed as you entered with Ben throwing the thin sheet over his legs. The two of you shared a knowing look, “You have seen me naked but I have not had the chance to see you naked.”

You leaned into Benedict.

“It would seem that the medicine does not agree with your friend,” you smirked.

“Oh, I don’t know, I rather like him like this, so not proper. So not Tom Hiddleston.”

You smiled as you looked upon Tom who, in vain, tried to cover his body. Even loopy on drugs, he charmed and warmed your heart.

“I will leave you to it.”

As you turned to leave, Tom shouted at you.

“I love thee, Y/N. By which honor I dare not swear thou lovest me, yet my blood begins to flatter me that thou dost, not withstanding the poor and untempering effect of visage. And therefore tell me, most fair Y/N, will you have me?”

You suppressed a small giggle.

“I will see you later,” you let them both know as you shut the door.

As soon as the door latched, Tom grabbed Benedict’s arm and pulled him down close.

“Ben! Ben! Have you met my wife?”

Benedict screwed his face up with confusion.

“The nurse? That is just the drugs talking, Tom. You barely know her.”

“Nonsense. She will be my wife and you shall be my best man.”

Benedict looked at Tom with an exasperated face but Tom’s only contained earnest. With a chuckle, Benedict conceded.

“Very well, Tom. I will be your best man.”

Tom slapped Benedict’s shoulder.

“That’s the spirit. As my best man, I require you to acquire my future bride’s number.”

Benedict could not resist at this point to play along with his friend’s drug-addled fantasy.

“I will, on one condition.”

“Name your price.”

“Name your firstborn after me.”

“Consider it done.”

“Then consider the number yours.”

Tom’s face beamed and as if on cue, the nurses came to wheel Tom into surgery.

***

“Oh dear, God. I quoted Shakespeare.”

Tom hung his head and his face and neck turned a bright shade of red.

“Yep. The Henry the Fifth wooing speech too. Honestly, it was one of your better performances. Might I suggest doing all your roles drugged from now on.”

Tom shot Benedict a withering look.

“Ha ha. Very funny. I can’t show my face to her again.”

At that moment, the door opened, and you entered. The color drained from Tom’s face, while the smile grew on Benedict’s.

“Y/N!” Benedict cooed, “We were just talking about you. So nice of you to stop in.”

Your shift ended half an hour ago, but you wanted to check in on Tom before going home. Today was not the first time a patient hit on you, although they are usually not an award-winning actor with a penchant for quoting Shakespeare. But, you would remain ever the professional. You checked the chart before wishing the two men well.

As you turned to exit, Benedict walked you out.

“Thank you, Y/N for attending to Tom.”

“My pleasure. Even under the influence, he is quite charming.”

Benedict took this opportunity.

“Speaking about that…”

3 years later

“Tom!”

You yelled down the hall of your London home, beckoning your husband. At six months pregnant, getting up and down was no easy task. Tom rushed to your side. He gave you his arm and with a rocking start; you extracted yourself from the chair.

“Thanks, darling.”

“I am at your beck and call.”

You rubbed your swollen belly as you waddled your way down the hall. Tom followed you to the kitchen.

“Now about names for this little young man here.”

Tom grew ashen. He thought he could avoid this conversation, but it seems his luck had run out.

“Yeah, I have I mentioned today that I love you.”

Tom kissed your lips, and you looked at him with distrust.

“What have you done?”

Tom smiled and rubbed his neck, a nervous habit.

“I may have promised to name the child after Benedict.”

Tom flinched.

“You what? Why on earth would you do that?”

“It was for a good cause.”

“Which was?”

“Your phone number.”

With that, Tom took off down the hallway. You smiled as you walked with much effort behind him.

“We are NOT naming our child after breakfast food!”

You heard Tom’s laughter fill the house.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fluff

[turkisherlockian]

A Touch From The Past - The Rainbow 🌈 - Request [Benedict Cumberbatch AU - Teacher x Soulmate Student Reader] (Part Two)

The professor could not wait for the drama class to start. To see her again. To remember where he saw her. His mind was forcing him to remember, he knew when he had someting on his mind he would have trouble focusing on one another. He had to know.

There were some students who took the class because they loved theatre, but it was compulsory for the rest. They seperated into opposite-sex couples as they were asked, Professor Cumberbatch was going to decide which one of them could play Richard Plantagenet and Anne Neville from Shakespeare's "Richard III".

He was on the stage with the playscript in his hands. The students were seated with their partners and his eyes found Y/N's quickly, but his stare only lasted for 3 seconds as he warned himself. He was there to teach.

Being a professional, he managed to focus on educating without any distraction, however he couldn't wait to go home because his head started to ache.

"As you all must know, we're going to perform Anne Neville's story by Shakespeare's Richard III. I believe all of you read the book and not only the script before memorising your lines," he said sarcastically and made his students smile, as always. "But I would like to remind you about her story before we get started."

He took a deep breath, "She is the widow of Prince Edward of Lancaster, whom Richard helped kill."

One of the students raised her hand and asked, "How could she love him after all he's done?"

The professor smiled, "She is the only person to follow her father-in-law Henry VI’s coffin to burial and to mourn him. Suddenly courted by Richard at the height of her grief, she is taken off her guard but finds herself unable to resist his performance as a lover. Despite her quite genuine hatred and mourning, she ends up completely seduced by him. Though this ends up making her Queen, it does not bring her happiness, which she blames on her having cursed Richard’s future wife before taking on that role. Richard’s bad dreams keep her awake at night, and she does not sleep well. She is soon perfectly aware that Richard does not care for her, and grows certain that he will kill her. She grows ill and dies, very likely poisoned by him. Anne is a weak and passive woman, though she attempts to be a good aunt to the various children of her husband’s brothers. Her ghost comes to haunt Richard the night before the battle of Bosworth and to bless Richard’s opponent Richmond."

Y/N felt blessed, he was so enthusiastic! She fell for him once again.

A boy raised his hand now, "But that's not what actually happened, right? I've read that he loved her and she died due to the plague of the time. Can we say that Shakespeare didn't really like the royalties at all?"

"This is where poetry and the benefits of technology takes place. We're lucky to be able to judge his work and compare it to the history." He was happy that some of the students were actually interested in this class.

"Kings are the slaves of history," he quoted Tolstoy with a smile and continued, "Let's get started."

He watched them all and helped them with their lines, but none of them was good enough. He knew they needed to practise but they didn't have much time. While watching them, his mind was also pondering if it would be Y/N's turn before the class ended. He shaked his head slightly and didn't notice that he was tapping his foot.

And it was her turn, now. There were 5 minutes left and he stood up when she came on the stage with her partner.

Y/N was actually good, but his partner was terrible. He just wasn't her match, and it seemed like they didn't even know each other much.

He clapped his hands to draw attention to himself, "You are talking as if someone's forcing you to say it. You're a wicked man, with your own reasons; and you try to seduce her. And you don't need a stage-kiss if you both are okay with it..?" It sounded like a question and Y/N would never say no to anything he suggests. They both nodded and he stepped aside to let them play again.

It was obvious that Y/N studied the character very well and he could see tears forming in her eyes. The young man did try to do better, but it just wasn't his thing. Professor Cumberbatch had this desire to show his students how to do it and he turned to them. "I need you all to watch, now. I'm afraid I'll ask those who want to take part to perform again tomorrow. We're running out of time and we need to be quick. Now..." He turned to Y/N, and blinked a few times when he realized that he had to kiss her. It could cause him to get distracted again, but he had to do it.

He knelt in front of her after taking the knife from the young man, and Y/N could swear that the look in his eyes changed. He raised one of his shoulders because Richard III was misshapen, his eyes were darker now and he tilted his head to the side. "Take up the knife, or take up me."

Y/N who played Lady Anne didn't say anything, and managed to tear up. He was going to kiss her. He was going to kiss her. He was going to kiss her. That was the only thing on her mind now.

He stood up slowly and kissed her. It only lasted for 5 seconds but it felt like forever to them. They didn't see blurry images or memories now, they saw each other. Benedict saw her smiling, crying, laughing, glancing at him, looking at her ring, in a wedding dress, in a rush, in his bed, naked...

Y/N saw him holding her hand at the beach, driving with his sunglasses on, coming home with grocery bags in his hands, holding her, dancing with her, touching her, hugging her, kissing her..

A rush,

A glance,

A touch,

A dance...

It was like thunderstorms at first, but they both knew that after a thunderstorm, comes a rainbow.

She was supposed to pull back and leave him there, but before she could - not that she could at that moment - the bell ringed and the professor forced himself to stop kissing her and she walked away from him.

He kept stuttering while saying his final words to the students who were jealous and muttering to each other about how real that kiss looked. Thankfully, they left quickly.

They were alone on the stage, now. None of them spoke, and Y/N just knew it was her mind toying with her. She went too far, she shouldn't have loved him that much. As tears formed in her eyes for real now, she tried not to look at him and leave the stage but his velvet voice stopped her. "You were pretty good, actually."

She couldn't dare to look at him as she thanked him quietly, and attempted to leave but he spoke once again. "You had them too, didn't you? Did you feel it?" She looked up at him. He couldn't be talking about what she saw, could he?

He walked towards her and turned her to himself by holding her arms gently, "The electricity when our hands touched, a flood of memories that were brought back to our minds-- please tell me you had them too."

He sounded like he was begging her, because otherwise, he would lose her mind. What was it, did he fall in love with her? He knew he could have considering that she was the only thing in his mind all day, which was very unprofessional...

"I did," she spoke excitedly, "I saw you but I thought it was because I lo--"

He kept quiet, waiting for her to finish her sentence but she couldn't. Tears were rolling down her reddened cheeks. "We were married." He spoke quietly and held her face in his hands. "I never thought I would believe in things like that, but I think we are soulmates." He looked into her eyes and felt an overwhelmingly nice feeling in his chest. She seemed like a fairy to him and he suddenly needed to kiss her again. So badly.

"We were together in another life..." Y/N spoke in amazement, "I can say it then."

The professor wiped her tears off her red, hot cheeks, she closed her eyes and finally said it.

"I love you."

He kissed her passionately and all he saw was darkness now. He knew she was the one. They were under each other's spell now... She loved him, and he loved her back. Once again, and forever.

They were smiling when they pulled back, and they spent the rest of the day with getting to know each other.

---

Info source: https://www.playshakespeare.com/richard-iii/characters/lady-anne

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! ❤️ @inner-thoughtsofnelia

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cucumber #sherlock #marvel #dr strange #fanfiction #bye

[ladykatebridgerton]

Hi! So what do you think the sub plots will be? Aside from the Featheringtons and the new male heir? And what would you like to see? Love the blog!!!

Hi hi! Thank you x

I feel like it’s still super early tell what can happen

I want to see more of Anthony being more of a big brother to the littles.

I want to see more of Edwina’s characterization since we get so much of it through Kate’s POV. And possibly more of Mary’s story? Who was this ex husband? How was her love between Papa Sharma?

I want to see how Pen gets around as Whistledown and how she operates along with further development in her friendship with Colin.

This isn’t a subplot, but MORE ABC TOGETHER. The three of them actually having conversations, maybe fencing, at Whites. (All the scenes in TVWLM with them are glorious and we need more on our screens.)

Eloise and Anthony interactions and possibly in regards to their experiences with Edmund’s death since she’s the one who found him in the books.

Possibly exploring Benedict’s sexuality.

Kate and Penelope developing a friendship and interacting more than two scenes, like actually seeing them be wallflowers.

Kate and Benedict bonding over art.

Edwina, Eloise, and Penelope all knowing that there’s something more between Kate and Anthony.

HYACINTH IN PALL MALL, No I will never shut up about this.

More of Henry Granville because I adore him.

More of Lady Danbury and whatever it is she’s up to. 

These are subplots/non-TVWLM/Kathony stuff I can think of atm. 

#olliesid19 #replies

[high-warlock-of-brooklyn]

001 The Internal Devices 002 Herongraystairs 003 Jem :)

001) The Infernal Devices

Favourite character: William Owen Herondale, Jem’s Parabatai, Gwilym, Edmund and Linette’s son, (I can go on for a while)

Least favourite character: Nathaniel Gray. I mean, I hate Benedict Lightworm and Axel Mortmain as much as the next person, but Nate is just a sleaze. Who gives off their sister like that! Who cares if she’s human or not! I hate how he repeatedly became the worst humanity had to offer, when all he needed to do was love. He killed his own mother, he traded his sister, he misled Jessie. I am absolutely disgusted by him at times.

5 favourite ships (canon or non-canon): 1. Herongraystairs. They’re all so in love with each other! With such ease they sacrifice their own love for the other ones!

2. Charlotte and Henry. They’re so in love, and they don’t even realize it for a while, and when they know that the other one loves them too, they’re so lovely! And that discussion about baby names was so cute!

3 Gabrilly. Cecily showed him a way to be the better version of himself. She needed someone to believe in, he needed someone to believe in him, together, they’re perfect.

4. Gideon and Sophie. Ah, the original disaster Lightwood! I mean, scones, really? At least get something you love! I love how they have both been through so much, and they find peace and love in each other.

5. Edmund and Linette. We don’t see much of them, but Edmund loved her enough to get himself deruned. And they are so nice people!

Character I find most attractive: Will Herondale. James Carstairs. Gabriel Lightwood. Cecily Herondale. They’re hot, I’m weak, okay!

Character I would marry: Okay, I could marry almost everyone in that institute except Jessie and Bridget (those songs are just depressing!) And of course, Magnus.

Character I would be best friends with: With my sarcasm and dramatic bi ass? Will, without a doubt.

A random thought: TID is my favourite of the entire TSC (TEC doesn’t count). I love the characters, I love the story, I love the ships, I love it.

An unpopular opinion: Will did not take advantage of Jem. Will and Jem are not in a relationship where they will take advantage of each other. Jem chose to pull Will closer when he tried to push everyone away, for a valid reason of course. Jem chose to be Will’s Parabatai. They didn’t do it because Will pitied Jem and Jem had no-one else. They did it because they genuinely are the best of each other.

My canon OTP: Herongraystairs, I mean, there’s nothing else I can do when the three of them are together.

My non-canon OTP: I don’t really have any.....

Most badass character: Sophie and Charlotte. Sophie is such an amazing character, she’s strong, and she doesn’t take crap from anyone. Sophie proved that you don’t have to wield weapon and have Angel blood to be a fighter. And Charlotte is a true leader, and a loving mother, and a badass Shadowhunter. She kept her head high, and didn’t hesitate to do what’s right, at the cost of everything, and I think that’s amazing.

Most epic villain: I actually don’t love Mortmain that much as a villain. I mean, I just didn’t think his final goal to procreate a new species with Tessa to defeat Shadowhunters is that much villain-y. I actually loved the Dark Sisters. They kept coming back with a vengeance, and they were definitely scarring.

Pairing I am not a fan of: I’m not a fan of Jessie x Nate. Jessie was wrong, definitely, and she could’ve chosen better, and Nate is just a terrible excuse of a human being.

Character I feel the writers screwed up: No-one really. I wish we had more of the Lightwood brothers and Cecily, but apart from that, I love it as it is.

Favourite friendship: Will and Magnus. Their friendship is so important. Magnus has seen Shadowhunters throw away utensils just because Downworlders touched them. And Will gave him the respect he deserves, and thought of him as a friend, and Magnus helped him through some of the darkest moments of his life. I love them.

Character I most identify with: I identify with Will a bit more than the others. I know what it feels to live without a sliver of hope, and the fact that Will has soldiered on is an inspiration to me. I love books. Oh, and I’m also terrified of ducks.

Character I wish I could be: I wish I could be like Sophie. Or Cecily.

002) Herongraystairs

When I started shipping them: When all three of them came to the breakfast table and Tessa joked about Will and the Six-fingered-Nigel. Jem and Tessa teaming up to make Will speechless is one of my favourite things about this ship.

My thoughts: My OTP in TID. They are so selfless for each other, ready to sacrifice everything to make sure the other two are happy. And that’s beautiful.

What makes me happy about them: That they all got to be together, in a way. Will and Jem were Parabatais for six years, Wessa had their marriage, and children, and now Jessa is living their life. At least they all had a chance to be happy with someone who knows that both of them share a part of their soul with the third one.  

What makes me sad about them: Clockwork Princess epilogue. And every time Jem talks about Will in present day. They both miss him so much, and so do I....

Things done in fanfics that annoy me: That there isn’t that much hype about this ship. I mean, I’ve read countless Malec fics, and there’s fics about other canon and non-canon ships too, but somehow Herongraystairs is not that much common, when there’s so much potential for them.

Things I look for in a fanfic: Well, I look for fanfics themselves... there really isn’t that much...

My wishlist: I hope we see more of Will’s ghost talking to Mina in TWP. It will be bittersweet, and maybe Jem or Tessa will see him somehow, and, well, a girl can hope....

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I don’t think they can ever end up with anyone other than themselves. I mean, Tessa never got involved with anyone since Will died (RIP), until Jem, and I don’t think she ever will. Their hearts have only the names of these three.

My happily ever after for them: I want them to be all together, them, all four of their children (Kit is a Jessa child), in a house. They can be just having a normal life, or a Shadowhunter life, but it doesn’t matter. Just as long as the whole family is together, I’m happy.

003) Jem Carstairs

How I feel about this character: You want me to tell you how I feel about the only person in the entire Shadow World who CANONICALLY didn’t do anything wrong? The only one so sweet and kind that even a demon cat (Church is a demon cat, and that’s that) cannot help but love? Because I will go on and on and on! Seriously, I love Jem.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Herongraystairs. That’s it. The three of them are one, and there’s not choosing just any two for me.

My favourite non-romantic relationship for this character: I love Jem and Kit’s relationship. Jem became the father, the guardian, the parent, the shoulder Kit needed, after losing everything, and that’s beautiful. Kit could’ve been misled, or hurt, and Jem made sure that he wasn’t, that he is loved. And their relationship is one of my favourite parts of GotSM. Kit truly found a family in the Carstairs, a dad, a mum, a sister, couple of ghosts, and that’s wonderful.

My unpopular opinion about this character: To anyone who thinks Jem is too perfect to be a good character, there is no such thing as too perfect to be good. Jem is inherently good. He is kind, even when it hurts, and he is kinder still. He saw his parents die in front of him, and he lost any hope to have a normal life. But he didn’t turn into a bitter person. He didn’t let kindness and love dry up in him. Instead, he loved tenfold. And that’s heroic. Everyone can be kind during their happy days. But knowing there’s no future, and knowing the pain that he knows, and still showing kindness and compassion, that takes courage, and purity of soul. The kind of person that Jem is.

One thing that I wish would’ve happened to this character in canon: I wish Jem could’ve had more time with Will. He lost his Parabatai, yes after a long long time, but for Jem and Will, it isn’t enough. I wanted them to have one last day, not as Brother Zachariah, but as Will and Jem, just one day spending time by each other.

Favourite friendship for this character: I love how Jem is a constant comfort for Charlotte. With Will being, well, Will, due to his curse, and Jessamine being her usual self, Jem was the source of comfort for Charlotte, when she needed assurance. And I love how he always makes sure that she knows how strong she is. Also, I love Jem and Sophie’s friendship. Yes, it was infatuation on Sophie’s part at first, but then it was pure friendship at the end, and that’s really amazing.

My crossover ship: I love how Jem and Lily are together. Lily is never crossing the boundary, and Jem is never cross with her. And the names. Oh the names!!!!

Thank you @therealsasori for the ask!!!

#asks #herongraystairs #will herondale #tessa gray #jem carstairs #charlotte fairchild #sophie collins #cecily herondale #gabriel lightwood #gideon lightwood #nathaniel gray #benedict lightworm #the infernal devices #tid #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc

[itsalliepg]

What Happened In Vegas - Drake x Erika (MC) - Part 5

SUMMARY: During Catherine’s engagement party, Erika (MC) learns the truth about Drake and Beth’s past.

PAIRING: Drake x Erika (MC)

RATING: Teen

WORDS: 2523

NOTE:English isn’t my native language. I write to practice and learn, so please sorry any mistakes. I hope you like it, and if you do, I’d appreciate if you like/comment/reblog!

Click here to read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Tagging @cora-nova @texaskitten30​

Fanfic Masterlist

AO3 Profile

_You look incredibly gorgeous tonight – Drake said as he squeezed Erika’s hand. They were sitting together in the backseat of the car, the driver taking them to Roffinteau’s manor, twenty minutes from Erika’s Duchy. She smiled at her husband. He also looked very handsome in his new suit.

               _And you should dress like that every day. It’s an amazing look for you.

               _Nah, I still prefer my old jeans – he chuckled – but you look amazing in everything – he leaned down to whisper in her ear – in nothing either.

               _Oh? – she smirked – I take that it’s your favorite look for me?

               _Undoubtedly – Drake kissed her deeply, and Erika tangled her fingers in his hair. She wished they could skip the party and come home, so they could be together all night, but she promised they would be there, and Beth was really sweet to invite them. And probably lots of people would love to see them and congratulate them on the incoming baby. Five days ago, Erika posted a picture of her and Drake holding together a pair of baby shoes, and she confirmed in the description that they would be parents. Cordonian press was frantic, crazy about a picture or an interview of the Valtoria couple, as Drake and Erika were known to journalists and fans. That explained the number of photographers and reporters gathered in front of the mansion. Drake took a deep breath and Erika stroked his hair fondly – I hate it, Williams. I thought they would leave us in peace after the way we announced your pregnancy.

               _Don’t worry, my love. We just need to answer what they ask and smile for the cameras.

               _That’s the hardest part for me – he snorted, and she giggled.

               _My adorable grump – she kissed his cheek – think of our baby, and I know you’ll smile – “our baby”. That sounded amazing, and right. Right – leave the rest with me – Drake got out of the car and reached for Erika. Soon, the couple were walking toward the manor, dozens of flashes lightning up, and a couple of journalists trying to get closer.

               _Duchess Erika, duke Drake! Congratulations! You must be excited! – a reporter asked.

               _We indeed are – Erika smiled widely – we always wanted children, and now our dream is coming true.

               _Do you want a boy or a girl? – another reporter asked, trying his best to get closer with his microphone.

               _Actually, we just want a healthy and strong child – Erika kept smiling. That was easier than she thought. Posing for pictures with Drake beside her was what she needed. How could this child not be his? Of course he was the father.

               _We want a lovely baby that grows happy, smart and kind. We must give our best teachings – Erika smiled at Drake. She’d never seen him talking so sweetly about someone other than herself. That was adorable – but we already have Bartie in the family, so I’d love a girl, a little Erika – a wave of awwww’s filled the crowd, as Drake kissed her cheek, and the photographers went crazy trying to get the best shot of the couple. Erika smiled and thanked everyone before taking Drake’s hand and leading him to the hall – well, that wasn’t so hard – he sighed, relieved.

               _I knew you’d be great, Walker – she kissed him quickly, and soon they were in the middle of a ballroom with a large staircase in the middle, very similar to Beaumont’s manor. Lots of silver-framed pictures and mirrors hung on the wall, and a picture of Roffinteau’s family was near the piano. Erika saw Beth in the picture, with a middle-aged couple and two young girls who look a lot like her – wow, it’s beautiful!

               _I don’t even remember the last time I was here – Drake confessed.

               _Drake! Erika! Welcome! – Beth approached them and hugged the couple, friendly. She was wearing a rose dress, made by a lightweight fabric, matching her delicate skin and face. As confident as she was, Erika felt somehow threatened by her figure – I love your dress, Erika! Is an Ana de Luca?

               _Yeah, how do you know? – Erika asked, surprised, and Beth shrugged, chuckling.

               _What can I say, I’m a huge fan of her dresses, although I chose something…French for tonight – she held the hem of her dress and Drake laughed.

               _Always a show-off, you never change, Freckles.

               _And you, in a suit! – she choked out in mock surprise – how did you convince him, Erika?

               _I have my ways – Erika giggled, and saw a girl, one of the ones in the portrait, and a blonde young man, well-dressed and with perfectly straight hair. Beth smiled.

               _This is my sister Catherine Roffinteau, and her fiancé, Henry Dobrev – the host couple shook hands with Erika and Drake – these are Erika and Drake Walker, duchess and duke of Valtoria.

               _It’s a pleasure to meet you. And congratulations on the engagement!

               _Thank you so much! And it’s amazing to finally meet you in person, Erika, I love your story, it’s almost a fairy tale – Catherine said in a shrill voice.

               _It’s almost unbelievable how far you’ve gone due to your…background – Henry said, pompously – I admire that, tough.

               _Oh, thank you – Erika answered, and Drake just rolled his eyes, discretely.

               _Oh, look, it’s Penelope! Excuse us, make yourselves comfortable – Catherine said, and holding Henry’s hand, walked over to Penelope and her parents. Then Erika noticed the couple of the picture, Beth’s parents, looking horrified at her and Drake. Beth noticed too.

               _I think my dad wants to talk to me, excuse me. There’re drinks on that table – Beth said quickly, pointing to a table near the stairs. They were trying their best to disguise, but Erika saw they were arguing with Beth, looking at her and Drake.

               _I knew this would happen – Drake snorted, and Erika looked at him in surprise.

               _What? What’s the matter with Beth’s parents?

               _Let’s just say they’re the kind of nobles who make me hate nobles, Williams. They never approved my friendship with Beth, because I don’t have a title, and they never understood why Constantine let Liam and Leo be my friends. And of course, they don’t like you either, because you were a waitress before being named duchess.

               _Ah, I see – she frowned and stroked his cheek – but we shouldn’t let them ruin our night. Let’s go find the gang and…

               _Excuse me – Beth’s voice interrupted Erika. She brought her parents with her, and they didn’t seem happy to see them – Erika, these are my parents, Count Benedict and Countess Jacqueline Roffinteau. I’d like to introduce you Duchess Erika of Valtoria, and Drake, well…

               _We know Drake very well – Benedict forced a smile and shook Erika’s hand – nice to meet you, Duchess Erika and, nice to see you again, Mr. Drake Walker, or should I call you Duke Drake Walker? – Erika was startled by his tone of voice and expression at Drake, as if her husband was a disgusting insect that needed to be expelled from there. Jacqueline smiled at Erika, but her smile was as forced as her husband’s.

               _Nice to meet you, Duchess Erika. And as I can see, Drake is now one of us. Although his passport to nobility isn’t…legitimate – Erika knew Jacqueline was trying to humiliate her, but she wouldn’t give in.

               _Well, as long as Liam recognizes, I’m a Duchess and Drake is a Duke.

               _Liam was always like that, so close to the people… - Benedict made a face.

               _That’s why he’s so loved by Cordonia – Drake replied.

               _Look, mom, dad, is Viscount of Graham, why don’t you go greet him? – Beth quickly dropped the subject and nodded to a couple who were talking to Catherine and Henry. They said nothing and headed to their old friends. Embarrassed, Beth turned to Drake and Erika – I’m so, so sorry for that. I begged them to behave.

               _Don’t worry, Beth. I should have known – Drake snorted.

               _I can see we’re not exactly…welcome here – Erika frowned – but as I told Drake, we can’t let them ruin our night.

               _You’re absolutely right – Beth smiled, and her smile widened when she saw Hana waving at them – I have to help Cathy play the hostess, but you should have fun with the gang – Olivia, Liam and Maxwell were next to Hana, and also waved to the Valtoria couple. They bowed and walked to meet their friends.

               Erika was surprisingly happy. She suppressed the thoughts on the parenting issue and had a great time with her friends. She even had fun with Maxwell, being near him wasn’t scaring her anymore. She realized she should focus on the good things in her life, and everything would be alright. She was convinced the baby was Drake’s, and end of the story.

               At some point, Erika went to the bathroom. When she was leaving, she could hear Beth and Jacqueline’s raised voices from a bedroom. The door was closed, but she could hear everything.

               _I can’t believe you invited Drake, Beth! You know what your father and I think of him!

               _What’s the problem? He’s my friend!

               _Oh, I remember how close you were, believe me.

               _Mom, he’s married now, and I wouldn’t do that!

               _You wouldn’t? – Jacqueline laughed – did you forget about William? You almost destroyed his marriage! And now are you planning to do the same with Drake? I’m starting to think this is your fate. Catherine is younger than you, and is about to get married. Do you want to be a secret, a lover, the other woman, forever?

               _No, mom, of course no! – Beth shouted – could you please stop treating me like a whore?

               _Then stop behaving like this. You and Drake aren’t teenagers anymore, control yourself at once – Erika was immobile, but when she heard the door open, she quickly hid in the bathroom again. Shaking, she picked up the phone from her purse and texted Hana.

“Could you and Olivia meet me outside?”

“Sure. On the garden swing?”

“Okay”

               Finding the garden swing wasn’t difficult, especially since Olivia and Hana were already there waiting for her. Erika ran to her friends and they noticed the tears leaving her eyes insistently.

               _Erika! What happened? – Hana asked, worried. Erika sat on the swing, each of her hands holding Hana and Olivia’s. She told them everything she heard from the discussion between Beth and her mother.

               _But the worst – she sobbed – is that Jacqueline implied that Beth and Drake had something in the past, when they were teenagers – Olivia and Hana looked at each other. Erika noticed – so, is it true? Did they date in the past?

               _Yes – Olivia sighed – Drake was Beth’s first boyfriend, when she was fourteen, and he was sixteen. They secretly dated at first, only we, Liam, Maxwell and Bertrand knew, because we knew her parents would forbid their relationship. And that’s what Jacqueline and Benedict did when they found out.

               _They dated for almost six months, and Beth promised she wouldn’t see Drake again. But they were still seeing each other in secret. Then her parents discovered again, and that’s why they sent her to Belgium to study and work. She would prepare for her family business and stay away from Drake, that was a win-win in the Roffinteau’s book – Erika gaped. Somehow she felt something weird between Drake and Beth, but she reprimanded these thoughts. Maybe her brain was messed with pregnancy, but she was right.

               _So, they only broke up because her parents forced them? – Olivia and Hana nodded – and…in this case, maybe they’re still in love with each other?

               _No, no, Erika! – Hana’s eyes widened – it was a long time ago!

               _I’m sure he already forgot her – Olivia said – he liked Beth, but he truly loves you. I can tell by the way he looks at you, the way he treats you. He has never done this for anyone before – Olivia gazed deeply into Erika’s eyes – what I will say may be hard, Erika, but despite our differences, I trust Drake. Who I don’t trust is Beth.

               _Oh? – Erika was surprise – but she’s your friend, isn’t she?

               _That’s why we don’t trust her – Hana added, making Erika even more surprised.

               _That William Jacqueline said is the Duke of Albanera, an old friend of Benedict. His son Antonio was engaged to Beth, until he found out she was having an affair with his own father. Victoria, William’s wife, wanted to make a scandal and tell everyone what happened, but in the name of her friendship with Jacqueline and Benedict, she didn’t. We know it because Beth told us, and she was sad that she wouldn’t see Antonio again. If she really liked him, why was she sleeping with William?

               _And I’ve seen her hinting on Landon, Penelope’s father! – Hana revealed – she’s not afraid to seduce married men.

               _I can’t believe! – Erika exclaimed – but she was always so nice to me and Drake…okay, sometimes I noticed something strange between them but…I thought it would be because of their friendship in the past.

               _If you consider Drake, yes, but if you consider Beth…be careful, Erika – Olivia opined.

               _We’re telling you this because we’re your friends – Hana took her hands – and we know Beth. She’s a nice person, but not when she’s around men. Married men – while they walked back to the party, Erika wondered what Hana and Olivia told her. She had no problem with Beth and Drake having had a relationship in the past. The present was what mattered. And if Hana and Olivia were right, now her present was in danger. What if she tried to seduce Drake? Would he want to revive their old days? No…how could Erika think something like this about Drake? Even Olivia trusted him, why Erika wouldn’t? How could she not trust his love? Her thoughts were interrupted by her husband, encircling her waist with his arms.

               _Hey, Williams! Where have you been? I was looking for you.

               _I was outside with Olivia and Hana, sorry if I keep you waiting…

               _No problem, I didn’t want to screw Little Lulu’s Club reunion either – they laughed – Catherine and Henry are about to make a speech and cut the cake.

               _Oh, I’d like to see this – when Erika saw Beth near her family, she felt a flutter in her stomach – Drake, can I ask you something?

               _Of course.

               _Do you love me? – he arched an eyebrow.

               _You know I love you, Erika, I say that all the time! – Drake hugged her – I love you more than anything, more than I’ve ever loved anyone – he noticed her frail expression, and a few tears leaving her brown eyes – hey, what’s the problem?

               _Nothing, it’s just…I think I’m more sensitive because of pregnancy… - he smiled and pulled her into his arms again.

               _If it makes you feel better, I love you, Erika Williams-Walker. I’ll always love you, no matter what happens – that last line clicked into her mind. I’ll always love you, no matter what happens. It doesn’t matter if Beth tried to seduce him. It doesn’t matter if that baby wasn’t his. Erika kept repeating that in her mind.

I’ll always love you, no matter what happens.

#the royal romance #drake walker #drake x mc #drake x erika #fanfic #choices fanfic #choices #playchoices

[shervival21st-blog]

Making sense of the Nonsense: A Johnlock ( conspiracy ) meta

“Truth is rarely pure and never simple”                                                                                                                           ---Oscar Wilde

“Truth is a metaphor, willed into existence”                                                                                                                     ---Nietzsche

First of all can conspiracy be possible after all these shit happened? Of course,why not, especially when there is a fair chance that another episode may pop up someday sooner, then it’s obviously possible.

A Modern Nightmare:

One fine morning Gregor Samsa woke up and found that he had transformed into a despicable vermin overnight [source]. Sherlock season 4 is exactly the same thing, came out in a crisis time of human civilization and proved to be a modern nightmare. 

The whole series is full of inconsistencies and it is unlikely that 3 different directors will repeat the inconsistent things over and over, unless it is deliberate. It’s impossible to address all the inconsistencies in one meta ( I have an exam soon :( ). But let’s start from TST.

The infamous skull hell:

The skull hell is one of the most infamous inconsistencies in S4. The skull continued to glow and un-glow throughout the series.

 Does it have a possible explanation? Well then, it basically has. It may refer to a Hitchcockian shot. The milk scene from the movie Suspicion: 

“Suspicion” tells the story of a woman who suspects her husband is trying to kill her. There’s one scene in the film that really jumped out.

That’s the scene where Joan Fontaine’s character is in bed, fearing the worse and her husband, played by Cary Grant, brings her a glass of milk. The camera follows Cary Grant coming up the stairs and as he continues something strange stands out about the glass of milk. It’s bright and bold in the frame. Is he trying to poison her? That’s certainly what we thought when we first it.

That was Hitchcock’s intention, actually. He put a light in the glass to highlight it in the shot to get the audience to wonder what was going to happen next. It’s a simple, but ingenious, technique.

Read more:

http://www.tasteofcinema.com/2014/the-10-most-ingenious-techniques-used-by-alfred-hitchcock/#ixzz4WEQh2rpe

Ostalgie:

In TST, when Sherlock went to hacking genius ( is he Russian?) Craig for some help Craig tells him about “ostalgie” 

CRAIG’S HOUSE. Craig is sitting at his computer typing while Sherlock stands behind him. CRAIG: Have you heard of that thing, in Germany? SHERLOCK: You’re going to have to be more specific, Craig. CRAIG: ‘Ostalgie.’ People who miss the old days under the Communists. People are weird, aren’t they? SHERLOCK: Mm. (He narrows his eyes momentarily.) CRAIG: According to this, there’s quite a market for Cold War memorabilia – Thatcher, Reagan, Stalin. (He smiles.) Time’s a great leveller, innit? Thatcher’s like – I dunno – Napoleon now.

Then When Mary was wandering from one place to another to escape her consequences, we got a Thatcher era ( cold-war communism era/pre-1991 )  flight check of some sort, why it is? Ostalgie? Mark Gatiss hates conservatives, but is does not necessarily mean he is inclined to left. I don’t know. Anybody?

USSR, East Germany, West Germany, Quebec do not exist anymore.

Mary’s weird-ass redemption wank:

Mary was predicted to be dead by the end of Season 4, but so sooner in TST? And with a redemption wank saved for her? To save Sherlock in a physically impossible way? A sacrifice?

The whole Aquarium-scene is superficial and so wrong. There are so many theories floating around, One is the alibi theory:  John actually shot Mary, and Sherlock lied to Ella to hide John’s deed. Not impossible.

Read more on my Fragmented Perception meta and here is another beautiful theory by @shawleyleres Dreaming, Memory and Tidal Waves

OK lets move towards TLD

Apparently TLD is a better episode than the other two episodes of this particular season. But that does not mean this is devoid of weird facts. But when TST has seemingly trivial ones, the facts are bigger. I am not going to elaborate, but just discuss some points.

1. Faith Smith and her note, who actually took down the note? Culverton confessed that his own daughter wrote it and he provided Sherlock with that note. Is he reliable?

2. Was Eurus actually with Sherlock when she came disguised as Faith Smith?Or it’s a mere delusion?

3. Culverton did not seem to be that grand a villain like Moriarty or Magnussen. Of course he was nasty, but... also what's the point of secret doors and was he really judged or got pardon by bribing the authority.

4. Ghost Mary as John’s subconscious (seriously WTF) 

5. And many more...

TFP then.

Before going to TFP aka The Fake/Fucky Problem lets discuss some salient features of Eurus Holmes:

The psychiatrist/Faith avatar:

Umm  a visual parallel first.

oops. Arkham/Azkaban/Shutter Island/Sherrinford?, uhh. Eurus even disguised as a therapist as Harley.

The gunshot wank:

Well look at the picture, first is from the first scene of TLD, and last is Eurus’s hand. Spot the difference, Eurus’s hand is sleeveless but the hand in the first picture is  blue/black sleeved? Why is the difference, is the first hand is of John, before killing Mary? is it Sherlock’s hand?

Back to TFP, or the worst episode ever. It’s like the Limbo phase of the nightmare. Sherlock  always alludes to many movies, books, comics, TV series and makes many references to other media besides the original canon. In TST they went for Appointment in Samarra  by William Somerset Maugham [an unhappily married gay doctor/veteran/spy/storyteller], made a reference to Macbeth [ i.e. “By the pricking of my thumb”], In TLD we got references of George Orwell’s 1984 frequently[”Big brother is watching you” etc] and also a whole big dialogue from Henry V [ Shakespeare was gay or at least bisexual ]. They alluded to V for Vendetta,in TRF, and in TAB referred to Inception and a rather unknown but a radical intellectual movie La Haine [ full meta here ]. So they preferred rather intellectual/cult movies or stories/novels/dramas to make allusions.

But TFP seems more like a disjointed montage of horror movies/psychological thriller. No ACD, but a mix-up of Saw, The Shining, The Ring, Suicide Squad, Shutter Island, Exorcist, Silence of the Lamb and many other horror movies, directly adapted scenes from them and combined them with bad CGI effect.

I am not going to rant but TFP brought back some unpleasant childhood memories which were deeply buried in my id before.[ ”Books are well written or badly written, that is all”---Wilde, again]

So yes a psychological analysis is possible. @shawleyleres, @the-7-percent-solution, @jenna221b, @marcespot and many others have already started analyzing, I had to fight with my emotions after this cursed episode ( literally episode no. 13) and  after that I came to realize that this episode is FAKE.

So many points, so many parallels, this is our deepest limbo, or is it Sherlock’s, is it John’s?

First of all lets see which predictions made before or after the release of S4 apparently came true:

1. Sherlock has a secret sibling.

2. Sherrinford is a prison where Eurus is institutionalized.

3. There will be a game which will not end.

4, Sherlock will have to choose between Mycroft & John.

5. Mycroft’s umbrella is a secret weapon ( a crack theory )

But it was never predicted that this episode would turn out to be so bad and out of context.

An analysis:

Eurus gave a puzzle in her childhood which would supposed to be solve the redbeard problem, but it turns out that it was actually about a little girl lost!!!

Sherlock can’t sense there is no glass before Eurus’s cell!!!Sherlock ignoring Vatican Camios!!!

The whole Molly Hooper thing and she is talking to a lock screen!!!

3 Garridebs dangling!!!

The infamous snake-mating dance between Harley Quinn & Joker and Joker giving up his life happily to play posthumously!!!

 Background music:“I need a gangsta, to love me betta, than all the others do”!!!

John chained in a well and getting rescued with a rope!!!

Who was chained in the bottom of hell-fire and got out without any effort and made a palace as if chains did not exist? SATAN [Paradise Lost, Book I, same inconsistency]

[Laughs out Loud]. FAKE

Only explanation, NIGHTMARE

If it is Sherlock’s Nightmare:

This theory goes like this:

Eurus is Sherlock’s anima, he is in EMP, and probably in the tarmac hell still. Victor Trevor is John’s mirror, a childhood John. Sherlock somehow was indirectly responsible for Victor’s sad demise. He constructed a parallel universe, and disguised his memories in the shapes of complex metaphors. Especially when Sherlock was talking to Eurus at the end, comforting her, it sounded like he was telling this to himself: 

We're going to crash! I'm going to die! Argh! [HE GASPS FOR BREATH] I think it's time you told me your real name. I'm not allowed to tell my name to strangers. But I'm not a stranger, am I? I'm your brother. I'm here, Eurus. You're playing with me, Sherlock. We're playing the game. The game, yes, I get it now. The song was never a set of directions. I'm in the plane. I'm going to crash. And you're going to save me. Look how brilliant you are. Your mind has created the perfect metaphor. You're high above us, all alone in the sky, and you understand everything except how to land. Now, I'm just an idiot, but I'm on the ground. I can bring you home. No. No, no. It's too late now. No, it's not, it's not too late. Every time I close my eyes, I'm on the plane. I'm lost, lost in the sky and... no-one can hear me. Open your eyes. I'm here. You're not lost anymore. [SHE SOBS] Now, you... you just, you just went the wrong way last time, that's all. This time, get it right. Tell me how to save my friend. Argh! Eurus, help me save John Watson.

Well I am now referring to @shawleyleres‘s metas: X X X

By the way was Benedict referring to this whole Eurus-Sherlock conversation as a monologue? IDK. This theory does not convince me of John’s meeting with Eurus twice.

So, yes now move to another::

If it is John’s Nightmare:

According to this theory, John was having a nightmare after he was shot by Eurus; this theory explains the Bond air thing, the spinning John, the underestimated cowardice Mycroft, all the horror movie melange, the drone, dangling Garridebs( John’s actually in the Garridebs situation himself ), the  Victor-Trevor-as-John’s-mirror thing, the rope rescue,the fear of Adl0ck and Sher1o11y, the cheesy cuts at the end of the episode, but for me this theory does not explain the whole Sherlock-Eurus interaction at all.

On defense of this theory I can give you the excellent video meta by @marcespot and this meta

Ok, now let me tell you what do I think:

Can a shared nightmare be possible?

I really don’t think so, but really re watching TFP more and more makes us to think of TAB. @marcespot‘s theory seems quite convincing to me, also this post made by our senpai @inevitably-johnlocked but I really think Sherlock’s anima is Eurus. But I never think Sherlock’s still in tarmac hell, because many reasons...one of them is Porlock. I rather believe that TST is full of real, unreal, surreal, dream sequences, memories i.e. fragmented perceptions. I think TLD serves the purpose of both a third person narrative and the characters’ perspectives, but TLD have a semi-Senecan ghost device, a disguised psychiatrist/therapist, only Sherlock can see someone aka disguised Faith Smith and many other weird fact. One of which is the background TV-video of Culverton’s hospital which showed us jumping sheep, according to @tigressthetiger which signifies falling asleep:

Look even the dialogue is fitting.

Well I am not talking about a shared dream, but what if TFP is the mixture of both Sherlock & John’s two different dreams? Unlikely but umm. I don’t know how to pull off this kind of complex thing. Maybe S4 was really bad-writing ( except it is not )

Well then, when I rewatched TFP, it seemed to me John’s horror-dream, only John’s horror dream until this scene:

From the above scene it seemed to me the dream of nobody other than Sherlock.

The melodrama, the metaphors, all the signs make me convinced it’s Sherlock’s dream. Or self-conversation?

The whole nursery rhyme thing  recited by Eurus does not bring any solution to Red-beard’s murder case. Just because Eurus is evil? Why just why? No explanation. Also the only alive girl in Bond air, whose mirror was she?

Eurus served as both Sherlock’s and somehow John’s mirror, while Victor is clearly John’s childhood:

P.C. @jarlie86art

From John’s rescue by the rope it again seemed to be John’s nightmare ( Argh! background Mary’s voice-over, cheesy cuts, a platonic parentlock WTF)

Also what’s the point of the whole Musgrave false graves, the moor, children playing... a direct callback of a disturbing novel by Emily Bronte : Wuthering Heights, also of Bronte sisters’ childhood and disturbing/haunting memories.

CONFUSING!!!! because unlike TAB, TFP is not still confirmed as a dream by the writers. Also when in John’s perspective the horror movies are of mostly male point of views, Sherlock’s POV finds reference from Victorian/Gothic horror novels which are from female point of view!!! ( “Sherlock is actually a girl’s name”, “ East wind was basically me”, Sherlock has a demonic anima archetype etc) 

On author’s sublimity and ‘Insane wish fulfillment’:  

First of all TAB was a gay fever dream with powerful women characters and a male villain (i.e. Moriarty). TFP was exact opposite, queerbaiting, disturbing, misogynist, and a psycho female villain: Ebony Darkness Dementia Raven Way Eurus Holmes.  

Why this 180 degree turn? TAB had some of the excellent-most editing in TV history, TFP has none, we can even see the green screen in the graphics.

My intellect does not want to agree with the idea that TFP was simply bad writing, and the crew were smoking weeds all the time. It could be said if there were no previous seasons, especially if there was no TAB.

So, why did Mofftiss do so, Just to fuck up with us? Just to prove us wrong, since TAB was predicted by TJLC accurately? Or just to fake the show’s death? The actual Richenberg redux? I have no answer of these questions, umm perhaps I have. Why they have called TFP as insane wish-fulfillment? 

They have transformed all their childhood traumas, disturbing memories into one episode.

According to Freud and other psychologists sublimation is one of the highest coping mechanisms, authors tend to use literature as a vehicle of fulfilling unfulfilled wishes, desires and transform their traumas into arts.

I don’t know if you agree or disagree with this statement. But this is not the most impossible thing. Johnlock is not yet confirmed. The series can really comeback if and only if TFP is a confirmed, otherwise we are more intelligent than Mofftiss. #Give-Us-a-4th-Episode-Soonish

TL;DR: To quote @shawleyleres , S4 is not fake, 100% real in Sherlock’s or John’s Mind. 

Instead of having a specific cliffhanger, TFP itself is a massive cliffhanger 

Long live conspiracy,and long live TJLC

Transcript courtesy: http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/

I promise to elaborate the points I mentioned in another metas.

Tags under cut:

  @love-in-mind-palace     @shawleyleres @isitandwonder @tigressthetiger@loveinthemindpalace  @hudders-and-hiddles @waitedforgarridebs @ifyouarelookingforqueerbaiting @amaranthinelover @separating-my-porn-and-tjlc @artisticpanda23 @lijahlover @heimishtheidealhusband @astudyinqueerbaiting @atikiology @johnlockshire @bbcatemysoul @bbcromance @tjlcer @johnlockishell @grumpyjohn @graceebooks @jon-lox @heimishtheidealhusband @just-sort-of-happened @depth-of-loyalty-and-love @deducingbbcsherlock

@shag-me-senseless-watson    @wssh-watson @watsonshoneybee @sussexbound @vanetti @jenna221b @the-7-percent-solution @teapotsubtext@roadswewalk @isitandwonder

@inevitably-johnlocked      @loudest-subtext-in-tv @wellthengameover @skulls-and-tea

@marcespot          @johnnlocked   @multifandom-madnesss @joolabee  @ebaeschnbliah @ervagworld @escaroles @bimartin @green-violin-bow @glittersparkledust @yorkiepug

#Meta RandomTheory #my ideas #my meta #the fucky problem #season 4 #S4 #TFP #TLD #TST

[allcalculator]

BMR Calculator: Different Formulas to calculate BMR and Calculation using the BME calculator

What formulas are used to Calculate the BMR?

AllCalculator.net BMR Calculator helps estimate a person's BMR value per activity level. However, before the Calculator, some formulas were used to determine the values of BMR.

The following are the formulas.

Harris-Benedict Formula.

It is the widely used formula to calculate the BMR of a person. It depends on the energy level of an individual. However, it is important to note that it needs to be more accurate.

The revised formula js

For Males: 88.362 + (13.397 x body Weight [kg]) + (4.799 x Height of indivual [cm]) - (5.677 x Age of Indivual)

For Females: 447.593 + (9.247 x Weight of Indivual[kg]) + (3.098 x Height of individual [cm]) - (4.33 x Age of Indivual)

The second formula is Mifflin-St Jeor's. 

The American diet Association compared it with Henry Benedict Formula. As per their conclusion, this is the most accurate equation for BMR.

For Males: (9.99 x body Weight ] + (6.25 x Height of individual ) - (4.92 x Age.

of individual) + 5

Females: (9.99 x body Weight) + (6.25 x Height Of individua) - (4.92 x Age of individual) - 161

Katch-McArdle 

It uses body mass to calculate a person's metabolic rate in a resting state. If the body mass is known, the formula 

1 - Body Fat Percentage / 100) x Weight.

It can be used to calculate the BMR.

The other is the Schofield formula. WHO uses it. There was an inappropriate number of data as per the subjects, which scattered the BMR values. So it jumped the results for various communities.

How to use the BMR Calculator?

BMR Calculator is Basal Metabolic Ratw Cakcukator calculates changes happening in a body even while the body is at rest.

Understanding the Basal Metabolic Rate can help you update an individual's required calories.

It can be done by using the BMR Calculator.

Add the inputs into the Calculator, giving you the BMR. However, it is important to note that it is not an accurate BMR value.

AllCalculator.net BMR Calculator will help you understand the calories your body requires to function normally. In the BMR Calculator, follow the steps.

First, add your weight to the BMR Calculator.

Then in the second section, add the Height. 

Now next, add your age.

The last option requires you to input your gender. The BMR of males and women differ. The Calculator uses the required formula to calculate the BMR.

Now you will get the results. However, the formula or online calculator needs to give a proper calculation or accurate value of BMR. 

In case of any fitness goal or if you need the BMR value, you can visit a nutrition expert or fitness expert. One can opt for a Calorimeter to check the accuracy. It is available with the doctors.

Plag Report=3℅(Formula)

#BMR Calculator allcalculator

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BMR Calculator: Different Formulas to calculate BMR and Calculation using the BME calculator

What formulas are used to Calculate the BMR?

AllCalculator.net BMR Calculator helps estimate a person's BMR value per activity level. However, before the Calculator, some formulas were used to determine the values of BMR.

The following are the formulas.

Harris-Benedict Formula.

It is the widely used formula to calculate the BMR of a person. It depends on the energy level of an individual. However, it is important to note that it needs to be more accurate.

The revised formula js

For Males: 88.362 + (13.397 x body Weight [kg]) + (4.799 x Height of indivual [cm]) - (5.677 x Age of Indivual)

For Females: 447.593 + (9.247 x Weight of Indivual[kg]) + (3.098 x Height of individual [cm]) - (4.33 x Age of Indivual)

The second formula is Mifflin-St Jeor's. 

The American diet Association compared it with Henry Benedict Formula. As per their conclusion, this is the most accurate equation for BMR.

For Males: (9.99 x body Weight ] + (6.25 x Height of individual ) - (4.92 x Age.

of individual) + 5

Females: (9.99 x body Weight) + (6.25 x Height Of individua) - (4.92 x Age of individual) - 161

Katch-McArdle 

It uses body mass to calculate a person's metabolic rate in a resting state. If the body mass is known, the formula 

1 - Body Fat Percentage / 100) x Weight.

It can be used to calculate the BMR.

The other is the Schofield formula. WHO uses it. There was an inappropriate number of data as per the subjects, which scattered the BMR values. So it jumped the results for various communities.

How to use the BMR Calculator?

BMR Calculator is Basal Metabolic Ratw Cakcukator calculates changes happening in a body even while the body is at rest.

Understanding the Basal Metabolic Rate can help you update an individual's required calories.

It can be done by using the BMR Calculator.

Add the inputs into the Calculator, giving you the BMR. However, it is important to note that it is not an accurate BMR value.

AllCalculator.net BMR Calculator will help you understand the calories your body requires to function normally. In the BMR Calculator, follow the steps.

First, add your weight to the BMR Calculator.

Then in the second section, add the Height. 

Now next, add your age.

The last option requires you to input your gender. The BMR of males and women differ. The Calculator uses the required formula to calculate the BMR.

Now you will get the results. However, the formula or online calculator needs to give a proper calculation or accurate value of BMR. 

In case of any fitness goal or if you need the BMR value, you can visit a nutrition expert or fitness expert. One can opt for a Calorimeter to check the accuracy. It is available with the doctors.

#online calculator #Percentage #BMR Calculator