So Benedict Cumberbatch. Where do I begin? It’s different, with Benny. He’s been creeping slowly into my veins since I first saw him bumbling around with Martin Freeman on Sherlock. Suddenly, I’m searching him on YouTube, watching interviews and red carpet appearances and correcting my friends and family when they pronounce his name wrong. Then, I’ve seen every film, commercial, sitcom, television series he’s been in. That quirky smile, the ginger hair, the voice that sounds like a jaguar purring inside of a cello, the fact that he doesn’t take himself too seriously, that he wants kids and every leading lady he works with ends up gushing about Benedict and what a great dad he will be and Ben is just so sweet. The fan girls (and boys), we swoon over him in an overly dramatic, teen angsty sort of way, regardless if we hold PhD’s in Comparative Literature or not. The thing is, Benedict is a legitimately talented actor not to mention his bloody gorgeousness sneaks up on you. He’s my tall, lanky alien boy that I just want to keep in a gilded cage so he can read Keats to me as we drink tea in the late afternoon (well that was specific).