indie low activity queue based benedict bridgerton. mutuals only.
Poetry is the art of revealing precious truths with words.
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@2ndbornson
indie low activity queue based benedict bridgerton. mutuals only.
Poetry is the art of revealing precious truths with words.
⋆。‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧。⋆ 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 (pt. 2)
[ TXT ] : i’m outside. don’t look out the window.
[ TXT ] : hypothetical. if i stole a horse. would you help.
[ TXT ] : emergency. answer immediately. do you trust me?
[ TXT ] : say you’re home alone right now.
[ TXT ] : don’t panic. but where did you put the spare key.
[ TXT ] : are you awake? this cannot wait until morning.
[ TXT ] : quick question. how attached are you to your car?
[ TXT ] : okay listen. this is going to sound bad. but hear me out.
[ TXT ] : don’t ask why. just wear black.
[ TXT ] : i need you to lie for me.
[ TXT ] : be honest. are you flirting with me or am i delusional?
[ TXT ] : i can’t sleep. tell me something interesting.
[ TXT ] : stop looking at me like that.
[ TXT ] : remind me why we’re pretending this is nothing.
[ TXT ] : i almost texted you. deleted it. this is attempt two.
[ TXT ] : are you trying to ruin my life or just my self control?
[ TXT ] : tell me you’re thinking about me. i need proof.
[ TXT ] : i miss you. i hate that i do.
[ TXT ] : don’t come over.
[ TXT ] : i shouldn’t ask this. but are you alone?
[ TXT ] : every song sounds like you. explain yourself.
[ TXT ] : i keep rereading old messages. don’t judge me.
[ TXT ] : say something that will make me stay.
[ TXT ] : if i show up. will you let me in?
[ TXT ] : i don’t know how to want you quietly.
[ TXT ] : do you ever think about what we almost were?
[ TXT ] : this is me being brave.
[ TXT ] : i miss the way you used to look at me.
[ TXT ] : tell me to stop.
[ TXT ] : i hate that you still feel like home.
𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬. Just because they agreed that love would not play a role in this marriage, that did not mean companionship had to be lacking. As a servant, you spoke with other servant while running errands --- which was enough for Sophie to understand just how lucky a scenario like this one was. Love was rare in matches, and even the most passionate could fade. Partnerships and comfort were the ideal. The ability to live your own lives but not despise one another was more blessed than most of the marriages of the ton. Perhaps there was a part of her, one deeply buried that life had not afforded her to keep, that felt the tiniest bit let down at the readiness to accept her proposal. Essentially confirming that the seeking of love in their union was not wanted from Benedict either, but that part of her was a youthful dreamer that had died the day her father had been buried. Dreams were for sleeping, and Sophie had her eyes opened to the world far too much to be anything but awake.
Benedict could not know how big an ask it was for her to use his name. Not just as a 'lady' engaged to be wed to a gentleman, but as she still felt very much the housemaid playing pretend. It felt as if saying his name plainly would prompt Araminta to strike a cane on her hands and reveal this had all be some dubious ploy of some sort. It was not Araminta who asked, it was Benedict --- and Benedict Bridgerton looked at her with gentle eyes and a warm smile that seemed desperate to find connection of some form. A part of herself longed much for the same, and reached back out. " Very well, Benedict... " Sophie tested the feeling of his name on her tongue, and although it felt strange to speak so informally to him --- it also felt warm. " Please then, refer to me as Sophie... " The instinct to give her proper name lingered, but the reveal of trickery would undoubtedly bring this to an abrupt end. She was too close to freedom to risk it all on sentimentality. " Miss Gun is far too formal for what we are to embark upon. "
benedict did not have time to examine it now, how wonderful his given named sounded in her voice. he would have to get used it. maybe it wouldn't make him smile every time like he was now. ❝ sophie. ❞ he nodded at her in greeting, doing nothing to hide the grin resting on his features now. ❝ i suppose married people rarely refer to their spouses by their last names. though, they share one. would get confusing, wouldn't it ? ❞ he was clearly teasing her.
❝ how do you feel about mrs. bridgerton ? a little stuffy for casual conversation but when has that ever stopped the masses of the ton ? shall we practice you being addressed by it ? ❞ he was sure they had little time until their mothers had them part for some wedding task or another. it seemed rather terrible that the next time he saw sophie, they would be standing before a priest and dedicating themselves to one another. was there a way to rectify that, to see her again ? his mother would be quite cross. she would consider it an unnecessary risk. he'd probably be accused of attempting to take sophie's virtue away before their wedding night. which was a fair assumption based on his character. it was wrong though. he just wanted to know more about her, understand things she couldn't tell him with the ever watchful eyes of their mamas.
❝ if i were to walk by your home this evening, mrs bridgerton ❞ he shot her a teasing grin before he continued, ❝ which window would be yours ? out of genuine curiosity and nothing more. ❞
𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ? Even years later, there were nights he had pondered that very question as they recalled their youth. Although he had grown enough, been in therapy long enough, to know he'd made the right choice then --- and he and Sherlock had been were on good terms now, it still did not make the feeling any better. Society tells you to stand beside your loved ones in times of crisis, the poems that Victor had been raised on spoke of love as an incomparable force through which all was possible. Neither of those talked about when the one you loved was self-destructing. Nobody knew what it was like to not know if / when their partner would be home, and the state they'd be in when they did. They didn't watch as they refused any help offered by yourself and others get chucked away, determined to stay rotting as they were. It had left Victor numb and broken when he had finally needed to leave, for his own safety and his inability to be a bystander any longer. His mind had been clouded with doubts. Had he done the right thing ? Did this mean he hadn't truly loved him ? Did it mean he had not been truly loved ? Should he had done something different ? Questions that Victor knew without question plagued his friend's mind heavier than the media circus outside. In a twisted way, he wished that he really had been having some secret scandalous affair that ended Benedict's marriage to Sherlock. At least then, he wouldn't know his best friend and ex partner wasn't circling the drain once more somewhere out in the city. At least then Victor wouldn't be made to watch his other best friend feel everything a younger version of himself had felt but ten-fold. If being the bad guy would have saved them from this, Victor gladly would take that role. Instead, he hugged him tightly to his chest, squeezing as tightly as he could despite knowing his arms were not the ones Benedict truly wanted. " You made the hard choice, but that doesn't make it any less right. It's fucking hell, but it does get easier... I promise... if you can't sleep, just close your eyes, okay ? It's better than nothing. " God knew they'd both need as much strength as possible for the shit storm awaiting them all...
there was possibly no one else on earth that knew what benedict was feeling the way victor did. there was certainly no one that had loved sherlock the same way and had been forced to watch as it all came crumbling around them. his husband had made him promise one day that he wouldn't allow himself to be brought down with them. he didn't think he'd meant it when he promised it. he hadn't been worried it would become an issue. now, he knew he'd broken it. it had taken a gun to force him to leave, to realize that sherlock was going down a path that he couldn't follow, that they were breaking his heart.
one arm moved to wrap around the front of their oldest friend, taking a long breath to steady himself. ❝ this whole time, i thought i could help. in sickness and in health, till death do us part. ❞ the words are practically mumbled against victor. he pulled the comforter closer over them both, sophie's laundry detergent enveloping his senses. ❝ i felt so alone. i couldn't tell anyone. i was worried they'd judge sherlock, or try to offer support that i was worried he wouldn't take well. ❞ they both knew why he hadn't told victor. he'd been there last time, seen how thoroughly it had cut them. he didn't want to be the person to open up old wounds.
their eyes flutter closed for the moment. he was almost sure he wouldn't be able to sleep, but it did feel better even to just keep his eyes closed. he could focus on victor's breathing better this way, letting it lull him. ❝ and now i feel even more alone without him. ❞
LOOK AT ALL MY NEW STUFF. THANKS TO @griefseason everything they make is so unique and pretty. definitely reach out to them if you want an update on your blog!!!
HENRI DE TOULOUSE-LAUTREC — “In Bed: The Kiss” (1892)
“The painting is admired for its ability to render a deep connection between the couple, who appear oblivious to their painter, and impervious to the judgments that might be cast upon them by their society if their relationship were exposed. They seem utterly absorbed in one another, and the viewer has the sense that in the instant captured by Toulouse-Lautrec, they have no concerns besides the moment they are sharing together.” "I cannot love a maid. I cannot be with a maid. I cannot think of a maid every waking hour, longing for a life with her, and yet...you have taken possession of me. Shot me back to life. Turned me from someone who could not sit still for a moment to one who wishes to be in one single place: beside you, for as long as I might live...You're the person I've been searching for all my life. I love you. I love you. I love you."
‘ Love is when the desire to be desired takes you so badly that you feel you could die of it. ’ [Toulouse-Lautrec]
we tell ourselves stories in order to live. —— an independent multifandom, all-female multimuse. ©
BRIDGERTON 4.01 | "The Waltz"
bear with me for a little while as i do an aesthetic overhaul
𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧. Not because she was enjoying it immensely, in fact it had been the hardest season of her life. It was only because since the loss of John, supporting her brother in his new engagement and Hyacinth's preparations for her debut, that Fran had any reprieve from the loneliness that being in Kilmartin House caused. The only exception from the imposed solitude of a widow, one that was destined to become worse when she returned to Scotland. The quiet and peace had once been a balm, but in it now she only felt absence. At some point, John had become part of that peace that solitude granted and now no such calming feelings remained. Francesca had briefly found respite with Michaela and her promise to stay by her side. A promise, it seemed, that was made to be broken --- as she had not heard a word since she had stolen away in the night weeks back.
Her family, beloved as they were, would make their trip home to Aubrey Hall, or their individual homes soon. She, supposed that the upcoming wedding would grant a few more weeks --- allowing her just a bit longer before the daunting prospect of the rest of her life without John would become truly realized. It was all this, and more, which made her somewhat unsettled as she aimlessly swished her spoon in her teacup. It was not that she did not care about her brother's impending nuptials. Francesca had complicated feelings on a personal level regarding her own grief, but she was truly happy for her brother and thought Sophie was a great woman. It was just hard not to listen to it all and feel the ticking clock the event held for her. It made her feel like a terrible sister, to be thinking of her own sadness in the face of his joy. So, she tried her best to school her features as she heard her name being called on. " Oh, apologies brother... my mind must have wandered slightly. What was it you were saying, about the... florals ? "
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 @2ndbornson
none of them were quite sure what would help the francesca versus what made things worse. distracting her seemed to help, to a point, but as the end of the season and he and sophie's wedding loomed closer and closer, his younger sister retreated into herself more every single day. bringing her back was the utmost priority to all in the bridgerton family. it was something he knew was of the utmost importance, especially as the end of fran's season meant a retreat to her scotland estate and not just for the country. at her words though, he looks up from his pad of notes, brows furrowed for a moment before he tries his best to school his expression back. she had been less with him in that moment than he had thought.
❝ no i - ❞ he cut himself off, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck. ❝ i apologize, i must have lost you somewhere in my ranting. i was expressing some frustration with how long our mother and kate have been gone with sophie. a dress fitting, tea with daphne to catch up after her return, and i believe something with the family jewels ? picking out some pieces for the wedding perhaps ? i cannot for the life of me remember. ❞ he angled his body towards francesca, ❝ how about a walk in the garden ? i could do with a break from the wedding planning. ❞ he was enjoying it immensely, knowing that all of his and sophie's fight had been leading to this. but he could feel that this was not the proper distraction for her right now.
› TENSION LINER PROMPTS
"I dare you to try."
"Do you always get close?"
"You’re pushing my limits."
"Stop looking at me like that."
"I’m losing control here."
"You have no idea, do you?"
"I can’t resist you anymore."
"Stay back, or don’t."
"I know what you want."
"This is getting dangerous now."
"You’re too tempting for me."
"I shouldn’t want this, but…"
"I don’t play fair, remember?"
"Careful, you’re testing me."
"You’re just making it worse."
"You’re too close for comfort."
"Do you always push buttons?"
"Stop before I kiss you."
"You’re making it too hard."
"I can’t stop thinking about you."
"I want you too much."
"You know exactly what you’re doing."
"I’m not playing games here."
"You’ve crossed the line now."
"Keep pushing, and you’ll regret it."
"This is dangerous, isn’t it?"
"I’m trying not to care."
"Don’t make me regret this."
"You’re playing with fire."
"You don’t know what’s coming."
"I shouldn’t be this close."
"We’re getting dangerously close now."
"I can feel the heat."
"Don’t test me right now."
"I want you too badly."
"Don’t make me chase you."
"You’re distracting me, you know."
"I won’t fall for this."
"I want you, but…"
"What do you want from me?"
"I’ll never give in."
"I’m trying not to care."
"You’re playing with my patience."
"Don’t make this harder, please."
"I can’t stop this feeling."
"I’m already in too deep."
"You won’t walk away unscathed."
"You’re walking a fine line."
"I’m trying to stay calm."
"What are you doing to me?"
𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ⵑ
independent and mutuals only multimuse blog featuring ... BRIDGERTON, DOCTOR WHO, SHERLOCK HOLMES, PRETTY GUARDIAN SAILOR MOON, MARVEL, STAR TREK, BALDUR'S GATE, FLANAGANVERSE, WICKED, DISNEY STAR WARS, PRETTY LITTLE LIARS, COMMUNITY, FINAL FANTASY, THE TWILIGHT SAGA, AND MORE. # KILLEDLLOVE written by myfanwy, 25+, she/they, est.
𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 to suspect what might have caused her brother's expression. Had she not witnessed many conversation leaks, or messages of her own to put one and two together ? Benedict had never been able to conceal his feelings well, but there was something admiring about being able to live so freely. " He's not the only one who deserves that, Benedict. This is for you too, you know. While Honeysuckles and Gardenias are not a common pair in arrangements, I will, of course see it done... " It was more than just flower arrangements and china patterns though --- it was a celebration of their love and a commitment they were making together. The first step to the wedding altar and the rest of their lives. Even if he was impatient now, Daphne suspected that in the future he'd be glad she'd made him think more on it.
Of course, Daphne could not pretend she didn't understand the impatience to simply be engaged or be married. These were simply days compared to the rest of your life, and the marriage was the goal ultimately. " Benedict, I suspect that you could tie a string to his finger and the result would be the same. Are you sure that you want to do the big to do ? I always expected, if you ever did settle down, you'd do something completely against the grain. " she was more than happy to do this, if it was what he wanted, but it had been a surprise to hear nonetheless.
their parents had always impressed upon them the idea that when you were to marry, it would be with someone that you loved more than anyone or anything else. even if more than one of their children had been resistant to that philosophy, slowly but surely more and more of their siblings had settled down. no one had expected benedict to be one of them, least of all himself before he and sherlock were re-introduced. he had many a romantic and physical entanglement, none that had been particularly long lasting other than gen. and even that had always been about a shared passion and chemistry.
benedict sighed at her question, moving to grasp his tea cup and take a long sip. ❝ i will admit that some of this is of the influence of our mother and sherlock's. ❞ the proposal had been completely his idea. he wanted something engaging, romantic, fun. something that could involve all of the people they both loved. he was on board with the party idea because he knew both of their parents wanted. ❝ but if a party is what they want, it's all fine. we will be married at the end of everything. this is but a step in the rest of our lives together. ❞
munday questions
📅 How long have you been roleplaying, and what got you started?
🌊 Do you prefer plotting everything out or going with the flow?
🪞 How similar are you to your muse(s)?
🎭 What’s your favourite genre to roleplay (angst, fluff, horror, etc.)?
💖 What’s a trope you love and will never get tired of?
🚫 What’s a trope you avoid or dislike?
🎧 Do you associate songs with your muse(s)? If so, share one!
🥹 Do you ever get emotionally affected by your threads?
🛋️ What’s your ideal RP writing environment (music, silence, chaos)?
✨ What’s your favourite thing about your muse(s)?
⏳ How long does it usually take you to reply to threads?
📝 Do you prefer short replies or long, detailed ones?
🏆 What’s your proudest thread or RP moment?
🌐 Do you enjoy crossovers with other fandoms?
🕵️ Do you stalk blogs before following them? Be honest.
💕 Who are you having the most fun writing with, at the moment?
😶 Are you shy about approaching new RP partners?
🌟 Where do you get inspiration for your writing?
🖼️ Do you make edits, moodboards, or playlists for your muse(s)?
😭 What’s the saddest scene you’ve ever written?
✈️ If your muse(s) could go anywhere, where would they go?
🎁 What’s a random fun fact about you (the mun)?
💻 Do you RP mostly on mobile or desktop?
🌙 Have you ever stayed up way too late just to reply?
🎲 Do you like doing random starter calls or planned plots more?
🤔 What’s something you’ve never tried in RP but want to?
✍️ Has your writing style changed over time? How?
🎯 Do you set personal goals for your RP (activity, improvement, etc.)?
🧪 Have you ever experimented with a completely different writing style or format?
🧑🎨 Do you prefer original characters, canon characters, or a mix?
📊 How much research do you do for your threads (if any)?
🔐 Do you keep secrets about your muse(s) from other writers on purpose?
✏️ Do you write outside of RP (stories, poetry, etc.)?
⛰️ What’s the hardest part of roleplaying for you?
🧱 What helps you get out of writer’s block?
📐 Do you prefer long-term threads or short interactions?
🚪 How do you usually start a new thread? Dialogue, action, or description?
⛓️💥 Have you ever taken a long break from RP? What brought you back?
🧠 Do you believe muses “have a mind of their own”?
✂️ How much do you edit your replies before posting?
🎬 Has any media (show/movie/game) recently inspired your RP?
🌀 Do you enjoy chaotic threads or calmer, character-focused ones?
🌱 How do you develop your muse(s) over time?
⚡ What’s something small that instantly makes you excited to reply?
📥 Have you ever adopted ideas from other writers into your own headcanon?
⚔️ Do you like conflict-heavy plots or softer dynamics more?
🪫 How do you handle losing motivation for a thread?
📦 If you had to move your RP somewhere else, where would you go?
🛑 Do you have any RP boundaries or topics you will not write?
😤 Do you have any pet peeves when it comes to RP partners or threads?
💌 Do you prefer people to DM you for plotting, or just jump into asks/starters?
🔄 How do you feel about dropping threads vs. pushing through them?
🫶 What makes you feel most appreciated as an RP partner?
👤 Do you ever write characters very different from yourself on purpose?
📚 Do you reread your old threads? Why or why not?
🎮 If your muse(s) were in a different genre (fantasy, modern, sci-fi), what would change?
‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. #𝒱𝒾𝒾𝓈𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓈 !
+ an independent & selective blog for 𝒦𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃 written by t. interpretation is based off of julia quinn’s & netflix’s BRIDGERTON. multiship, multi timeline & multifandom !! this will be a low-medium activity blog.
˚❀ CARRD. RULES. VERSES. ––– blog roll: margaery tyrell. cersei lannister.
“Do you ship...” Buddy I will ship almost anything if I think about it too long. I love love and situations
He’s developed this exterior that’s very amenable. [He] doesn’t feel like anything bothers him, yet clearly, in the middle of him, there is this side that is running away from something. Even with the mistress offer, it’s sort of quite a neurotic thing to do. It’s like trying to compartmentalize your life, this reluctance to give someone everything. It’s quite refreshing because he has a very soft exterior, and then there’s actually this center that is a bit more controlling, which is a surprise. — Luke Thompson
LUKE THOMPSON as BENEDICT BRIDGERTON BRIDGERTON | seasons 1-4