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thalialunacy · 6 months ago

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[HI FRANS. Believe it or not, this is for the @calaisreno May Prompt Fete. Herein lies useless fluffy smut, rated E. Yar.]

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As it happens, they don't end up flipping any coins.

Charmed lives, they have not led -- as their therapists' files can attest -- but they've now got the hard-won, slightly dented treasure of true familiarity, which means--

'John--what--' He's turned enough that the showerhead, which is, per usual, placed far too low for a person of his height, spritzes water which jumps off his shoulder and hits him on the nose. He twitches, probably not unlike an annoyed bunny rabbit, and John's mouth turns up. 'Why are you here. In the washroom. While I'm showering.'

John starts to unbutton his shirt, and Sherlock watches, mouth drying, as he summarily strips down to boxers and vest and just… steps into the tub.

He's out of the spray, mostly, and Sherlock calculates how long he has until he starts to get cold. 'Because you've had a shit day,' Sherlock hears him say.

For a moment, Sherlock's brain whizzes with how John could possibly deduce as much when Sherlock is naked and just-washed.

Then he realises with a tick that this is… psychological. This is a thing where John's knowledge is superior to Sherlock's. Some day Sherlock will accept that (not that he doesn't believe it of John, he just chafes at his own incomplete skillset) but for today he just shoves it aside and moves to the next.

Which is leaning down to connect their mouths, feeling the water beat against his shoulderblade while he tests out what John tastes like in this new use case.

And, of course, he tastes like a long day, the aspects of which Sherlock notes automatically. But what bleats louder in his brain is the textures - water, skin, cotton, hair, calluses, steam. It all serves to spear his attention and start his blood to decidedly rapid movement.

'John,' he manages, though his lips don't stray far. 'As much as I hate to be the practical one here, this seems rather needlessly dangerous.' John nips at his bottom lip and Sherlock can feel the grin. 'Needlessly,' he reiterates, hands sliding under the vest to journey over John's shoulders and hold him steady. 'With a perfectly good bed so close by.'

But John shakes his head as he pulls away. Sherlock barely refrains from leaning forward and chasing him, but John is implacable.

He lifts his chin in indication. 'Hands on the wall, please.'

Sherlock's eyes narrow as his heart triple-times. 'You can't be serious.'

But John absolutely is. 'You've been in here for a good twenty minutes. You're fine. Turn around.'

'Surely the angles--' He's not sure why he's arguing, except he really would be very put out if someone were to slip and brain themselves on something.

John seems to have no such concerns. 'I'm fairly confident in my abilities, Sherlock.'

Sherlock flushes. 'Yes, fine, no need for braggadocio.' He pauses and kisses John one more time, just to be contrary, then does as requested. His other shoulder is in the spray, now, as John's lips press against the top of his spine momentarily.

And John does find the angles indeed. Sherlock has just enough time to calculate that he must be sat on the edge of the bathtub, which is likely to be very uncomfortable, before sensation sparks sharply on the skin of his bum.

'You have such a gorgeous--' Instead of finishing his sentence, John bites down lightly again. 'Well, everything, really,' he says while his hands gently pull Sherlock apart until he's utterly exposed.

The water running down his back is a soft but pleasant sensation as it makes its way down, and he finds himself closing his eyes.

He feels John pause. 'Ready?'

Sherlock thinks to scoff, but it comes out as more of a huffy whine.

'Right, then.'

The first touch of John's tongue is soft and wet and glorious, and he does not hesitate before settling in. As pleasure sings through his body, Sherlock finds his mind spinning through gears, churning until the frustrations of the day are in manageable pieces packed neatly for later examination.

His fist curls against the cold wall. 'John, wait.' In direct contradiction, his body pushes back against John's mouth, and a groan escapes him. 'I want to--'

John hmms, which translates to a spike of pleasure that pushes the air from his lungs. 'John.'

Suddenly John is standing, crowding him against the tile. 'Go on, then,' he says, lips on the back of Sherlock's neck, as his hand moves round to assist him to completion.

'But--' Sherlock grinds out. 'You--'

John shakes his head, which feels desperately new from this angle, and Sherlock nearly cries out as his orgasm approaches. 'Just enjoy it.'

There's such affection in his voice that Sherlock is at once able to do just that, cataloguing the sensations as his body clenches and releases.

'Good,' John is murmuring as Sherlock comes down. 'So fucking gorgeous.'

Sherlock starts to smirk, but then John continues. 'Sodding idiot, too.'

Sherlock gasps, his lungs not quite ready for full sentences. 'Pardon?'

'You couldn't possibly have thought you could find an entire people carrier's worth of personal effects in an afternoon.'

John says this, and Sherlock hears it, but he's understandably distracted by John also dragging a finger through the mess on the wall and bringing it back round to his own mouth. Sherlock barely represses a shudder as the visual flashes through his mind.

He takes a final recalibrating breath, then turns around and captures John's lips in a searching, grateful kiss. 'You're certain--' he offers one last time.

'Nah, hot water's running out.' John reaches for a towel and steps out of the tub, mostly onto the bathmat. 'Besides, there may or may not be a new box of biscuits waiting for us.'

John and his simple pleasures. 'Ginger, even,' Sherlock surmises. 'And how did you know about my afternoon?'

'I saw the news, you berk,' John says while throwing a second towel in Sherlock's direction. 'And I know you. Now dry yourself off.'

---

'Are we doing this out of order?'

Sherlock pauses to look at John just a few minutes later, the towel partially obscuring his gaze. 'How so?'

'Ah. Well. It's just that in my past relationships, that bit--' He gestures vaguely with his toothbrush; Sherlock presumes he's referring to analingus. '--wouldn't be proposed until there was a-- a certain number of other things attempted first. Accomplished first, even.'

Sherlock sighs. 'I will never understand heterosexuals.'

'Oi--'

He throws up his hands, clutching onto the towel at the last moment. 'There's no rulebook, John!'

'Well, of course not, but--'

'There are books,' Sherlock allows. 'Many of them. I can loan you some if you like.'

John pauses. 'Doesn't the internet suffice?'

'John, please. Don't be so average.'

'Dick.'

'Learning about sex from "The Internet"--' He does indeed make the air quotes. '--is about as useful as learning to practise medicine from Green Wing.'

'Hang on, how do you know Green Wing?'

'Research,' Sherlock says blithely.

---

The point is, the guesswork of a new sexual relationship is nearly wholly absent. Unless 'Did you stop by the chemist?' counts, though the third time that happens John just starts stashing condoms & lube in random (toddler-proof) places.

Like the locked knife drawer one morning while Rosie is sleeping off a teething, tantrum-y night. John is keyed up from exhaustion and single-minded in his immediate goals, so Sherlock happens to have been pushed into the counter above said drawer, and he lifts up onto it easily enough as John unbuttons his shirt with efficient fingers.

'I know you just put your togs on,' he mutters into Sherlock's mouth as he reaches Sherlock's belt. 'But I don't care.'

'Fine by me,' Sherlock says, his attention largely on untying John's scrub bottoms drawstring by feel. 'As long as I get what I-- Oh--'

John smirks into Sherlock's jaw, his hand working inside Sherlock's very fancy pants. 'Up,' he orders quietly, hooking his other index finger into the side of Sherlock's trousers so he can pull them off.

Then as Sherlock moves to obey, John stops with a frown. 'Wait. Your wrist.'

'Is healed.'

'Just because it no longer has a cast, doesn't mean--'

Sherlock doesn't have time for this nonsense. 'Sofa, then.'

But John is shaking his head. He meets Sherlock's gaze. 'How about just… the other way round?'

Sherlock takes a sharp breath. They've not done the full ninety (a term he picked up from John, much to his chagrin) more than a few times yet, and it's been Sherlock receiving. Which he thoroughly enjoys, but the idea of being inside John makes his breath feel very short in his lungs. 'John? Will that… work? Angles?'

John runs his hands up the backs of Sherlock's thighs and leans into a kiss, holding on firmly. 'The magic 8-ball says the outlook is good.'

And that's all that gets said as they trade places and come back together. Sherlock's cast is off but John is John, so he takes on the responsibility of sitting on the cold counter and leaning back into his wrists while Sherlock fingers the worries right out of him.

'Fuck,' John curses under his breath as he hooks a hand behind his left thigh and lifts it just enough more-- 'Yes, please, god damn it--'

Sherlock reaches blindly for the hidden key to the knife drawer, and manages to retrieve the necessary items without damaging himself. John would be impressed but a) he'd already known Sherlock is skilled with his hands, and b) he is somehow completely distracted by the skin over Sherlock's clavicle.

But his eyes snap up to meet Sherlock's when he feels them line up slickly. Sherlock searches his face, and John nods once. Decisively.

Sherlock holds his gaze, palming the back of John's other thigh, and they both breathe out as their bodies connect in this new and different way.

John grunts, forcing himself not to move. The satisfying burn in his core muscles mingles with the fading sting of Sherlock's penetration, and the look on Sherlock's face is worth all of it.

Then Sherlock starts to fuck him, and he can only manage to think about himself, to keep balanced and keep from flat-out shouting and keep from interrupting it all to drag Sherlock's lips down to his.

Sherlock senses this last one, he must, because his free hand slides up John's chest to cup his jaw, and John's heart clenches in his chest.

When Sherlock's thumb drags across his lips, he knows Sherlock is close to coming, so he sucks in the tip and bites down, just a little.

It works - Sherlock says his name on a low groan and shudders once, twice. Three times.

John does drag him down for a kiss, then, which Sherlock obliges, albeit a bit messily, managing to stay inside him by way of tightening his grip around John's thigh. He's breathing hard, and John's body surges as he feels Sherlock's other hand close around his prick.

'Fuck, Sherlock--' He tightens his hold on the back of Sherlock's neck. 'Don't stop.'

Sherlock chuckles wheezily at this, but he doesn't stop until John has spilled warmly over his hand, their mouths sticky and dry but connected regardless.

Sherlock gets his breath back first. 'Your obliques are going to be sore tomorrow.'

John huffs out a laugh. 'Among other things. My god.' He gingerly lowers his legs, glad Sherlock is coherent enough to handle the condom properly. 'I'll take the bin out before Rosie wakes up,' he says with a tired grin.

Then he sits up, albeit a bit slowly, and slides his hands around Sherlock's ribcage. 'That was all right, I suppose.'

'Satisfactory.' Sherlock's breath ghosts across his nose and he feels lips on his temple. They're both trying hard not to grin, and they're mostly succeeding.

A wicked thought occurs to John, and he stops bothering to hide it.

'So. I thought it would work, even though you didn't.'

Sherlock pauses, undoubtedly predicting where John is headed with this. 'Don't.'

'I had a feeling you'd like it, even though you thought you wouldn't.'

'John. No.'

'It was… counter-intuitive.'

'You owe me twenty quid for having to stand here and listen to that, at the very least.'

'Oh, please. Put it on my tab. Paper scissors rock for the disinfecting?'

'You're volunteering, you mean.'

'Wanker.'

And despite their exhaustion and distinct lack of cleanliness, holding onto each other long after it's necessary, they dissolve into laughter.

[<3]

[When I worked at a car dealership in my roaring 20s, we sold a truck to a contractor whose business name was Counter Intuition, and I thought it was the cleverest thing ever. Well, still do, clearly. XB And okay I know Britglish often uses 'worktop' instead of 'counter' but I asked a Brit only a bit younger than me, and he said he'd use 'counter' while his mum would use 'worktop', so pffft.]

#it's gonna be MAY 2024 #lolol or July #same thing #may prompts 2024 #mayprompts2024 #BBC Sherlock #Johnlock

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vonpharma · 3 months ago

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Fandom: 逆転裁判 | Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma & Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth Characters: Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth, Karuma Mei | Franziska von Karma Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sicktember, Sicktember 2024, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Franziska von Karma, No Beta - Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death, Post-Gyakuten Saiban 123 | Phoenix Wright Trilogy, Post-Case 3-5: Bridge to the Turnabout, Case 3-5: Bridge to the Turnabout, No Sequel Trilogy Spoilers, Airports, request, another fic where i made fran really gross <3 yay, vaguely implied FranMaya, but can be read as platonic

Summary:

Here they were, then. Beneath the gorgeous, sprawling arches of the Munich International Airport, bathed in the strange ethereal glow of the snow as it lights the night. The skylight is pure white, as is the expanse outside as flights begin to drop off the readerboard one by one, and Miles has a bad feeling about things as soon as he hears Franziska’s phone ring. She’d barely gotten her sim card in��her hands slipping and faltering all the way as she periodically went one-handed to tend to her dripping face—when the thing started making noise. Never a good sign, that sort of urgency.

Written for Sicktember 2024 Day 14: Clean Sheets / Fresh Pyjamas

Please read my closing author's notes on why I will no longer be supporting the Sicktember event, and withdrawing my fills from the collection in protest.

[READ ON AO3!]

#ace attorney #pwaa #franziska von karma #miles edgeworth #sicktember #sicktember 2024 #aa #my writing #request

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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 years ago

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Nice To Meet You - Guys Like You | Part I

an interactive top gun fic series! with a poll waiting for you at the end!

summary: Nat introduces you to the squad for the very first time. You expected a lot, but certainly not two of the most drop-dead gorgeous men ever to flirt with you.

6k only a tw for alcohol ig? otherwise just simping. on every and all ends.

guys like you masterlist | top gun masterlist

Nat's keys clanging onto the living room table should have been your first hint that something was not going to be normal about this evening. That she appeared in your doorway instead of vanishing into the shower next was an absolute red flag.

"We're going out tonight", she announced, not a trace of a smile on her face. You turned off your phone with a sigh and propped your head up on your pillow.

"Gee, not even a 'hello' or 'how are you' today, hm?", you asked.

"You need to go out", she went on, completely brushing over your interruption. She was dead-set on giving you a speech, you could tell. She was still sweaty, her hair slicked back, her flight-suit zipped up, but she was looking at you as though she hadn't just been through hours upon hours of what you'd probably call torture. "You've been just sitting in this room for the past two weeks and I can't stand it anymore."

You sat up with another sigh, tugging at your oversized, sauce-stained shirt that you were suddenly much too aware of.

"Nat, please, I need to get settled first."

"You settled a week ago."

She wasn't taking any bullshit today. She had let you off the hook too many times already, up until now swayed by your half-assed arguments of why you were hiding in your bedroom. "You're going out with us tonight."

"Us?", you asked, dreading the answer. Nat didn't have any friends outside of work here.

"Me and the squad", she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

"No", you laughed. "No, definitely not."

She frowned, finally moving out of the doorway and settling at the foot of your bed instead. At least it felt more like an eye-to-eye conversation now.

"It's just the squad", she shrugged.

"Just the squad?", you asked. "Just the squad? Nat, those people fly multi-million-dollar aircrafts on a daily basis, they're all ripped as hell and make thrice the money I made back in San Fran. I don't even have a job."

"First of all, you've applied for jobs, it takes time", she reasoned. (Sometimes you could have slapped her for her rationalism.) "Also I'm one of those people and my job never bothered you before."

You stared at her like she'd gone mad. How could she not get this? Yes, they were normal to her, they were her colleagues, her friends, but to you? Um, hello?

"Yeah, because I have pictures of you pooping your diapers", you said, exasperation lacing your tone. "I've known you for as long as I can remember. Those people have never met me. And I don't need them to meet me at my worst."

Even though she'd been dead-set on getting you out of this apartment, she still softened a little at that.

"You're not at your worst anymore", she reassured, smiling at you. "You're beyond that. You're starting a new life now."

"Still", you snorted. "I'm a nobody compared to you guys."

"God, don't say that!", she groaned, reaching over to squeeze your hand. "That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to get out of here for a few hours. You're coming with me, I don't care what you have to say about it. We leave at eight, we'll get takeout on the way and I promise that if you're not feeling any better by midnight, we'll go home."

You knew that you couldn't argue with her. She was determined to get you out of this apartment and even if you didn't agree, she'd drag you out screaming. She'd have no problem either - she was way stronger than you.

"I hate you", you mumbled, no real malice behind the words. She just grinned and got up to stretch.

"Great", she chuckled. "I'm gonna go shower and then get ready. If you're not done by eight I'm carrying you into the car myself, I don't care."

You just grabbed a lonesome sock from the bed and threw it at her as she turned and walked out, leaving you to yourself, your own thoughts and the realisation that you actually had to meet all those high-maintenance people. It took two seconds before you were tearing open your closet and dragging your shirt over your head. You had barely one and a half hours left to get ready and lord help you if you weren't finished on time.

...

You were buzzing with so much nervous energy when you got in the Uber that you felt like you were about to mutate into a bee. You couldn't imagine that would be any worse than what was about to happen anyway. Honestly, you'd been dreading meeting Nat's friends for months now, but it had got much, much worse when you'd moved out to San Diego. Because it had become a very real possibility. And today, well, today seemed to be the day that all those fears that had been festering for weeks and weeks would truly become reality.

You spent the entire car ride staring out of the window, thinking about how they'd surely all sneer at you, look at you with that expression just in between pity and arrogance that somehow all rich people wore. Maybe there'd be one or two decent people. Hopefully there would. Nat wasn't usually friends with absolute dickheads, but then again even back in highschool she'd got along with most of those popular jocks that wouldn't have looked twice at you. To be fair, she'd thrown some punches here and there, but you'd still rather keep to yourself than meet a bunch of snobs. At least you knew that Nat would be with you and that she wouldn't break her promise - if you weren't enjoying yourself, she'd take you back home dead on twelve.

You let out a last sigh when the car stopped, climbing out of your seat as slowly as you could while Nat paid, trying desperately to stall for as long as you possibly could. But she tutted at you and tucked her arm into yours, dragging you with her through the parking lot and over the threshold.

It didn't take long for you to realise that this was a navy bar. There were very, very few people in civilian clothes - in normal ones, you'd say - most of them were clad in uniforms. You could have rolled your eyes at that alone. Why were navy men always so goddamn eager to show off that they were navy? They couldn't seriously think anyone was going to throw themselves at them just because of their fucking uniforms. You'd much rather keep a very safe distance away from any and all navy guys - a radius of at least two miles.

"There they are", Phoenix said, a grin playing on her lips as she pointed at the corner with the pool tables. You internally braced yourself, taking another deep breath before you even dared to look where she was pointing, clutching the little purse you'd slung over your shoulder to ground you.

The bar wasn't particularly crowded yet and you could make out a group of people - not in uniform, thank god - huddled around both of the pool tables. As far as you could see, there was only one other woman. Of course. You should've guessed that Nat was flying with a bunch of testosterone monsters.

You hadn't expected much else, of course... but it still made you hyper-aware of the dress you'd picked out.

Nat whistled and let go of you when you got close enough to the squad (your skin was practically burning up and you were seriously considering turning around and making a run for it, but you'd never been too good at running and were much to scared to face-plant on the floor). The guys turned around like dogs, answering to her whistle and nothing more, and way too many pairs of eyes landed on you in the span of a single second.

"Alright?", Nat grinned, shoving you a little step in front of her. It wasn't like you were shy. You really weren't. Maybe you weren't exactly extroverted, but you certainly weren't shy. Usually. So you couldn't even be mad at her for forcing you to come out of your shell like this. "I'd like to introduce you idiots to my roommate."

One of the guys put his pool cue down and immediately your focus switched to him. You had to admit that for a moment there you forgot how to breathe. He was tall and he was blond and he had strikingly green eyes and broad shoulders and that button-up was really doing things for you. You'd expected Nat's friends to be talented and rich, sure, but not that goddamn handsome.

"You never told us your roommate's stunning", he drawled, all Texan accent dripping from his words like molten honey and sticking to your brain, and his grin almost sent you careening straight into his arms. You needed longer than you should've to really process his words, only realising that oh god, had he just called you stunning? when Nat was already rolling her eyes.

"Do not, Bagman", she hissed, "flirt with her or I will end you."

Bagman only chuckled at that and strode towards you, holding out his hand and luckily you had enough braincells left to grasp it. Normal, you told yourself. Totally normal greeting. You did your best to ignore the heat in your cheeks and the way his fingers felt.

"Hangman", he introduced himself, that award-winning grin still on his lips. "But you can call me Jake."

He winked, completely brushing over Nat's threat. She slapped the back of his head and he finally pulled his hand from yours as you stuttered out your name.

"What did I just say", Nat seethed, practically dragging him away from you. He just shrugged and chuckled to himself.

"Can't help myself around beautiful ladies, I'm afraid."

She slapped him another time for that and he brought his hand to his hair to rub over the spot that you were sure must already have been sore. Nat had a wicked right hook.

"Keep it in your pants, Bagman", she threatened again, then turned back to you. "Alright, now that the worst is over, I'll introduce you to the others."

She spun to stand next to you, eyes narrowing as she paused for a second. You could barely raise your eyebrows. All of this was so overwhelming. You'd expected everything from embarrassment to ridicule, but certainly not that anyone was about to flirt with you. And one gorgeous piece of human being as well.

But he probably did that with everyone.

He was navy, for gods sake! What were you thinking? Navy guys were toxic assholes that brought a new conquest home every night only to leave them unsatisfied and doing the walk of shame in the morning. You had enough troubles already, you really didn't need to add another man to the pile.

So you straightened and made yourself swear not to give Jake another second of acknowledgement.

Nat seemed to have finished her assessment of the group, whatever it had been, and she didn't look satisfied.

"Where's Bradshaw?", she asked.

"Probably doing what he does best", Jake sighed, snatching the pool cue up again and leaning over the table to take a shot. "Slow ridin'."

You had seriously no clue whatsoever how pool worked, but he straightened again with a self-satisfied expression and you guessed he must've done good, especially when his friend groaned. He caught your gaze and you snapped it away, cursing yourself for already fucking up on your promise. Nat huffed.

"He better have a convincing excuse", she muttered. "I thought I told everyone to make a good first impression."

Then she clapped her hands.

"Okay! Anyway. Next to Bagman, that's Coyote."

Coyote raised his beer at you and smiled. You gave him a little wave.

"Next to Coyote that's Fanboy and next to him that's Payback."

You waved at them too, laughing as Fanboy waved back with just a little too much vigor and as Payback threw you a sloppy salute. Nat turned to the other pool table.

"Over there that's Fritz, Yale, Harvard, Omaha and Halo."

She grinned, grabbed you by the shoulders and maneuvered you around, pointing at a man with big glasses on his nose, sitting in one of the few chairs that were facing the pool tables. He stopped popping nut mix into his mouth the second your eyes fell on him, his hand hovering uncertainly in mid-air.

"And that's", Nat said, almost prideful, "That's Bob."

"Ooh!", you keened, a little more confident that everybody seemed at least somewhat happy to see you and a little more excited now that you remembered a person from Nat's stories. "Backseater Bob?"

"That's me", Bob chuckled, red tinting his cheeks as he smiled, putting away the nut mix to wipe his hands off on his pants and reach one out to shake yours. You couldn't help but mirror his grin - his fingers were soft and he was gentle with you, a bit unlike Jake. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too", you nodded, already comfortable with him after all of two seconds. You understood now why Nat was so glad to have him as her backseater - he seemed like the complete opposite of the navy cliché that you despised so much.

Bob just smiled at you for a moment. His glasses made his eyes a little bigger than they probably were and honestly, you could see yourself getting along well with him. He seemed sweet and genuine and kind and you could feel your anxiety start to let go of you, start to slip away a bit.

"Oh", he let out and straightened. "D'you want something to drink?"

"She does", Nat interrupted before you could decline, as though she'd already known you would. She probably had, to be honest. She knew you well enough. "Would you get us two tequila shots and two mojitos?"

"Two tequila shots and two mojitos?", you laughed, turning around to her in surprise.

"I told you, you need to let loose", she grinned. "And we're letting loose tonight!"

"Oh yeah", you snorted, pushing her away by her shoulder as Bob got up and walked over to the bar. "Really letting loose apparently."

Nat only laughed and let herself flop down on one of the chairs, patting the seat next to her with Bob's nut mix on it. You grabbed it and sat down as well, brushing your hand down the front of your dress, smoothing it out.

You watched Nat's friends bustle about the pool tables. Watched Nat's squad as they talked and laughed. Watched Jake - just out of the corner of your eyes, really! - as he clapped Coyote on the back and you could've sworn that even though you really definitely weren't looking!!! his eyes were fixed on you. It had you fiddling with the straps of your dress.

"So?", Nat asked eventually, drawing your attention back to her. "They're not as bad as you thought, are they?"

Internally, you had to agree with her. Okay, maybe you'd been a little overdramatic. Maybe they weren't as bad. They didn't seem so. But also you'd known them for less than two minutes and you knew just how good people sometimes were at deceiving you.

"Give me a minute to get to know them and I'll tell you after", you smiled.

"That I can work with."

"Ladies", Jake's voice rang out, just before he stepped up right in front of you, leaving you practically no choice but to look up at him. He was grinning, the pool cue still in his hand. "You'll play a round, won't you?"

Nat shifted in her seat.

"Haven't got your ass kicked enough yet?", she asked.

"You know you couldn't kick my ass if you tried, Phee."

"We'll see about that."

She was up in a second, grabbing the cue from Jake and strolling over to the table as you watched her. You hadn't moved. You weren't about to.

That almost lazy kind of teasing they had going on reminded you of all those other people like Jake that she'd been friends with throughout her life. Not that you didn't make fun of each other - wasn't that practically the baseline of every friendship? But with them... You couldn't put your finger on it just now. It wasn't that they actually despised each other, you knew what Nat's hatred looked like and it wasn't this, and it certainly wasn't flirting either, you knew what Nat's type looked like and as handsome as you found Jake, he definitely wasn't it. Maybe it was just the combination of their personalities, maybe it was nothing at all. It was a bit like they still hadn't quite decided that they liked each other, even though they obviously did get on.

"What about you?", Jake asked and you blinked up at him in surprise. Sure, he'd addressed the both of you, but you'd kind of just assumed that he'd meant Nat.

"Uh, I don't play", you said carefully, still unsure if - and if, then why - he was talking to you. Hadn't Nat just agreed to play against him? Were two players not enough somehow? Was this like, a group game?

Jake raised his eyebrows.

"You don't play pool?", he asked, like he'd never met anybody who dared not play pool.

"No, I don't", you said, very slowly, as though that would somehow lessen the risk of miscommunication. "I don't know how to."

The corners of his lips tugged upwards at that, just slightly, like he wanted to hide his grin from you. Was he making fun of you? Honestly you couldn't even be mad at him if he was - you'd expected pretty much nothing else from the squad. But it did come as a bit of a surprise now that your impression of them all had so rapidly changed.

"Well we can't have that", Jake tutted, reaching out a hand again, hanging in mid-air as you looked at it sceptically. This whole situation was a little overwhelming. Or maybe it was just him that was a little overwhelming. "You're at a navy bar, Sunny. You have to know pool."

You glanced from his hand back up at his face and felt kind of daft with how much time your brain needed to process all this.

"Sunny?", you asked, because of all the questions that you had this was the easiest one to phrase. And maybe because it was the thing that had thrown you off track the most. Jake's grin only widened.

"Navy nature to give nicknames, darlin'", he chuckled while you realised that you'd still not taken his hand and that at this point it probably started being weird (and heavy) to hold his arm out like that. So despite your earlier promise, which, you had to admit, you'd already thrown out of the window a second after you'd made it, you acknowledged him very much. As carefully as you possibly could, you put your hand in his as he talked, and immediately he tightened his grip on you and helped you stand up. You were a little too close to him now, a little too close for good, and if Nat hadn't been occupied racking the pool balls she probably would have kicked Jake in the face. But he didn't seem to mind, only carried on talking, apparently not whatsoever surprised by the sudden close proximity or by how easily the pet names had slipped off his lips.

Sunny. Darlin'.

"And that's just a lovely dress", he went on, leaning in even closer, so close that for just a second you almost could have felt his breath on your ear. "I think yellow might be my new favourite colour."

He pulled back with a wink and then he was gone, just the weight of his hand resting in yours left as he led you to the pool table Nat was setting up. He let go of you the very moment she looked up, a smile on her lips, and your breath caught in your throat. Jake was playing a dangerous game and he was pulling you down with him.

He strolled around the table back to Coyote, who was still holding the other pool cue in his hands, and Nat took the few steps towards you, her smile dropping a bit.

"Bagman bother you?", she asked, genuinely a little worried.

"Nah", you said, a little shaky, and shook your head. "I'm fine."

It wasn't a real answer, but she let it slide, nodding as she watched Jake return with the second cue now.

"You just let me know if he does", she muttered and then there he was, too quick for you to respond.

Nat was usually protective. She always had been, and rightfully so. Always a little weary of guys you went on dates with, always a little weary of guys you brought home. You'd minded sometimes, like back in college when you'd had a crush on that guy from musical theatre and she had threatened so vividly to break his neck if he hurt you that he'd never talked to you again. But she had clearly been right about most of them and so you really should trust her, really, you should... and yet.

She was practically telling you to stay far away from Jake. She was doing it the other way around, for now, but you were sure she'd give you the whole speech tomorrow morning as well. And you'd just met this guy, it wasn't like you were head over heels in love with him, but he was charming and flirty and it was working on you.

He was just about to open his mouth and, you guessed, start explaining pool to you when Nat suddenly straightened.

"Bradshaw!", she called out, so loud that the whole bar must've heard her, and you turned to see what - who - she was looking at as if in reflex. The crowd nothing short of parted for him.

A ridiculous Hawaiian shirt on that caught your eye first, then those sunglasses - were that Ray Bans? Hadn't they got out of style like, a decade ago? - and then... Oh, and then.

"That's a pornstache", you said, quite dumbly, you had to admit, and Nat snorted. You turned to her and then back to him and even though you were still very much gaping, you were laughing now too. "Like, an actual 80s pornstache."

Pornstache had caught sight of his squad apparently and was making his way towards you and the closer he came, the less funny you felt about the whole situation.

Pornstache was attractive.

Maybe it was the hair. Maybe it was the swagger in his step, the fact that he was practically oozing confidence. Not that the others weren't, but he... well, you kinda couldn't look away from him as he approached. Maybe it was the moustache after all.

You hadn't ever met a man who could pull that off.

He shouldn't be allowed to either.

God, how was Nat working with all these gorgeous specimen? They should all be sued for looking like that. It was too much power in the hands of the navy.

Pornstache stopped short in front of you, a light grin on his lips, and someone - Jake perhaps? - let out a resigned breath.

"You're late", Nat said, crossing her arms like she always did when she didn't like something. His grin only widened.

"There needs to be someone fashionably late in every squadron", he chuckled, slipping off his sunglasses and hooking them into the collar of his shirt and if it had been up to you you'd have forced them back up on his nose because now you had to watch as he glanced from Nat to you and took you in. He was way too attractive to be eyeing you up like this.

Men like him didn't eye you up like this.

Especially not in yellow sundresses.

Not that the dress wasn't pretty. It was. And you weren't overdressed like you'd have been in the black one that you'd had hanging at your closet door too. But it was kind of weird to be standing in front of all these testosterone-y men in a cute little dress like that.

Though Jake seemed to have liked it.

God, first him and now Pornstache...

"Rooster", Pornstache said, reaching out a hand for you to shake. "Or Bradley. But you can call me whatever you want."

You could practically hear Nat rolling her eyes as you shook his hand, brushing back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face as heat rushed through your arm and straight to your cheeks.

"What is it with you guys tonight?", she sighed, uncrossing her arms and grabbing her pool cue instead. She turned back to the table that she'd finished setting up and nudged Jake away to take his place, apparently at her wits' end and done with the conversation. Pornstache - Bradley - wasn't.

No, he was still looking at you and you still couldn't look away.

"So you're Nat's new roommate, I assume?"

You couldn't help but admire the way his voice sounded. If it already had you melting like this within two minutes of meeting him, you didn't want to imagine how you'd react if you heard it in the morning. Or late at night. Or close to your ear. Or- Wow, you really needed to fucking stop.

"Yeah", you choked out and cleared your throat as embarrassment set in. You shouldn't be thinking about Nat's colleagues like this. You shouldn't be thinking about anyone like this. You needed a drink and to cool off. God, where was Bob with those tequila shots? "Yeah, Nat's new roommate."

Bradley nodded, that damned grin still on his lips.

"But you knew her before?"

"Yeah", you said again, a little steadier this time. "Yeah, I've known her my whole life."

You should stop saying 'yeah' that much. It was making you sound like that was the only word you knew. Yeah.

"Really?", he asked and raised his eyebrows, glancing at Nat who was now leaning over the pool table and taking her shot, totally concentrated. "She never told us, just said she was introducing us to a friend who's recently moved. If you've known her that long, she could've introduced us back at Top Gun."

"You went to Top Gun with her?", you asked, raising your eyebrows to look at Nat too. "She never told me."

"Seems like she didn't tell us much about each other", Bradley said and somehow, he seemed rather amused by it - his lip was quirking up and his moustache followed and you felt like that should rather be funny than attractive. Shame that it wasn't.

Before you could say anything more, Bob came back with a tray in his hands, balancing a bunch of glasses. He barely seemed to notice Bradley, too focused on not letting anything fall and shatter.

"Tequila or mojito first?", he asked. Nat straightened up and grabbed the two shot glasses from the tray.

"Tequila", she said, back to at least a half-grin. "Thanks, Bob."

She gave one to you and clinked them and the two of you downed your shots like you'd always done - one big sip in sync, heads thrown back and glasses practically touching your noses and laughs on your lips when you put them down again, with just a bit too much fervor on Bob's tray.

"Now the mojito", she chuckled, taking the cocktail glasses next and handing you one again.

"You ladies seem to be enjoying yourselves", Jake suddenly said, leaning against the pool table with that grin on his lips but somehow, it was tighter now and his voice was a little strained. Maybe it was the tequila just blurring up your senses for a moment. Maybe your perception was fucked.

"Have to", Nat grinned and winked at you. "After all you lot aren't any help."

Bradley and Jake started protesting like she had somehow insulted their honour, but she only laughed and turned back to the game, already taking a sip of the cocktail in her hand. You followed her example.

Bob carefully sat down the tray on one of the chairs and picked up the nut mix again. You couldn't help but smile. It was somehow endearing, the rest of them sipping beer and drinks and him just popping nut mix into his mouth like a grad student.

"So, Sunny", Jake said, suddenly so close again that you could smell his aftershave. "Your turn."

You glanced at the pool table and raised your eyebrows. You should probably say no, thanks, I can't play, goodbye and leave it be. Leave him be. Nat would probably prefer if you did. She'd probably prefer if you turned around and joined Bob and made friends with her backseater instead of let Bagman, like she so affectionately called him, teach you how to play pool. But he was an attractive man and you were only human and anyway, you imagined you'd have enough time left to talk to everybody else. So you looked up at him and his impossibly green eyes that you couldn't get over and took the cue out of his hands.

"Only if you teach me", you said, stopping short at the end to ponder if maybe, just maybe.... So you grinned and added "Bagman" and watched his face fall for a second as you pushed past him and tried to make sense of the pool table.

Alright, so there were nine balls in different colors and if you were right, you were supposed to push them into the pockets in the corners and at the sides. Right? But that couldn't be it. It couldn't be that easy.

Jake had apparently restarted his original train of thought and turned around to you, his chest almost - just almost - pressing into your shoulder.

"I was planning on teaching you, Sunny", he chuckled, straightened and turned a little more serious. "A'ight, it's actually quite easy once you got it. So we've got ten balls in total and your goal is to pocket the nine colored ones. But you're only allowed to strike the cueball, the white one. With me so far?"

"So far", you nodded. "So basically I have to like, hit all these other balls but just with the white one and not with the cue? And if I pocket the cueball then what happens?"

"That's a foul", he explained patiently. Honestly you hadn't expected he'd react so well to dumb questions. "If you pocket the cueball, your turn's over and the other player-"

He stopped short. You were just about to ask if he was alright when you heard it too.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

The music was gone. Completely gone. Someone had turned off the jukebox.

"Every fucking time", Jake muttered, running his hand over his face as you looked at him and frowned. You were missing something major here and honestly couldn't think of what. But then Nat put down her cue and her drink and maneuvered around Jake to pry your drink from your hand as well.

"You're gonna wanna see this", she chuckled, one of those rare, all-consuming grins on her lips and you could hardly do anything but stumble after her as she made her way through the crowd. You didn't think anything could have prepared you for the next five minutes.

Because okay, Bradley was sitting at the piano. Okay, Bradley could also play said piano. And okay, Bradley could sing as well. And just maybe he really wasn't bad. Maybe he was really, really good.

Maybe Nat thought the same because you hadn't seen her that carefree in a while. Maybe everyone did - almost everyone, at least, because almost everyone was laughing and singing along and having the time of their lives. Maybe you did too.

No, you definitely did too.

Bradley had popped his sunglasses back up on his nose and was clearly enjoying being the center of attention for a minute. And you couldn't help but be completely enamoured by it. By him. You couldn't help but laugh along with Nat and let her twirl you around and sing, too loud and probably much too off-key, and fall from Bob's arms into Fanboys and you really couldn't help but somehow feel like a part of the group.

And then the song was over and you were panting, your cheeks hurt from grinning and you had to brace your palm on the lid of the piano to not fall over.

Fanboy's arm was still wrapped around your shoulder somehow and you didn't know if you were leaning on him or if he was leaning on you, but it didn't really matter. You were glad now that you had chosen that summer dress - it was light and breezy and you didn't have to worry about sweating through skin-tight fabric or anything like that. No, you just had to sweep your hair out of your face and throw your head back and laugh.

And look at Bradley, maybe, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement. He looked straight out of a fever dream. His sunglasses lay abandoned on the piano lid - he had really pretty eyes. How had you not noticed before?

"Is this like a regular show you pull off?", you asked, a little breathless as Fanboy untangled himself from you, the conversation the rest of the squad was starting up now fading into background noise. You were running high on adrenaline, the tequila was finally hitting your system, the anxiety was fully disappearing and because spirits were so high, your confidence came crashing back into you like a huge wave of relief that had you collapsing on the piano bench right next to Bradley. "'Cuz it seemed like everyone was quite used to that."

He chuckled, turning his head so he could look at you. He was tall, you realised, really really tall, at least taller than you by a head and you didn't know if it was this apparent because you were suddenly sitting or just because you were suddenly so close to him. Not that you wanted to complain either way.

"Let's say it's not the first time", he smiled. You raised your eyebrows.

"i'll ignore that you're deflecting for now", you laughed, not quite caring that he was deflecting at all. (You were pretty sure you knew the answer anyway.) "And instead I'll say I'm impressed. I've always admired people that can play."

"Do you play?", he asked, genuinely interested, drawing his hands back from the piano as the jukebox started up again. You had to say you'd liked the live music a little better. A little a lot. After all, Bradley Bradshaw was a sight to behold.

"No", you said. "Not anymore. I played... Well, I kinda had lessons back when I was little, but my family- Yeah, no, I don't play."

You swallowed and he raised his eyebrows, but luckily didn't comment on your stuttering. You really didn't need to traumadump on people you'd met half an hour ago. If it had even been half an hour. (It probably hadn't.)

"I could teach you", he offered and maybe you were wrong, maybe you were stupid, maybe you were tispier than you'd thought but you could've sworn that just for a moment, he glanced down at your lips - but you probably were wrong and stupid and tispier than you'd thought.

"Slow Ride."

You looked up to see Jake leaning against the piano, a beer bottle in his hand and a forced grin on his lips, entirely focused on Bradley next to you.

"Bagman."

You glanced back and forth between them as they stared at each other in silence.

Maybe you shouldn't be here. This felt like you really should not be here. Were you missing something? You'd thought that the squad was like one big family. These two seemed more like they were about to rip each others throats out and you didn't know if you wanted to be in between them when it inevitably happened.

"So you're back in showbiz, I see", Jake chuckled, putting his beer down on the piano lid.

"Some people can actually make it there, whether you believe it or not", Bradley shot back, his eyebrows raised and his lips still twisted into that grin that you were pretty certain was an act in itself.

Jake let out a dry laugh.

"Maybe you should change career paths", he suggested. "Actually do make it somewhere."

"Maybe I should leave", you muttered, already halfway off the bench and on your way to down the mojito Nat had left on the pool table, just to get out of whatever this was. Even though whatever it was came closer than anything else had so far to what you'd expected, it threw you off track more than the rest had. You needed a minute. And you needed a drink.

"Don't worry", Bradley said, turning back to you after throwing a last glance at Jake. "Bagman's gonna go now."

"And leave the poor woman with you?", Jake chuckled, straightening up with a grin. His beer bottle clinged against the wood. "I don't think so."

Having the both of them stare at you had your skin crawling.

That confidence that you'd had earlier? Gone. The anxiety you'd thought you were done with? Back. Fun! Where was Nat to get you out of this? Where was Nat when you needed her? You should've listened to her and kept away. You should've sat down next to Bob and had a pleasant conversation, but no. No, you had to find the two troublemakers of the team and get right in between their little quarrel.

"I was about to teach the poor woman how to play piano", Bradley said, eyes still fixed on you.

"Really?", Jake asked. "Because I was about to teach her how to play pool."

He raised his eyebrows and Bradley did too and they were looking at you all silent like they expected you to say something now and oh god, what had you got yourself into?

Two of the most gorgeous men you'd ever seen - to your great dismay - who were friends, no, colleagues of Nat's, who flew multi-million-dollar aircrafts and spent their days saving the world, looking at you and flirting with you and... flirting with you.

Nat had been right, no matter how this would work out.

You'd really needed to get out of your bedroom.

...

So you've tripped and fallen right into a love triangle, it seems. What are you gonna do?

a/n: this somehow didn't really turn out the way i wanted but i dont mind? like, im quite happy with how it did turn out tbh!!!! and im so excited to finally publish this chapter ahhhhhhhh lets see what happens!

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andthebubbles · 8 months ago

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bridgerton 3x03 spoilers under the cut

colin waking up stupid, i see, in true bridgerton bros' fashion

i need this as a gif. immediately. why is it not already on my dash why is it so low down on most people's priorities that instead i'm seeing other things first skjfngkfg am i not following the right blogs AAAH

also i wouldn't mind benedict's "are you all right" giffed 😂

is the polin convo under the tree (weeping willow?) supposed to be charming or awkward?

CRESSIDA PLSSSSSSS i'll be your prey

i need A LOT of jessica madsen photoshoots asap!!!!!!!!!!!

aaaah benedict being ADORABLE

okay, why can't we have pen/debling lol

cressida 🥺 i love her so and i hope she gets a good husband OR WIFE, HI ELOISE

SFDKGJNFKG THAT BIRDS CONVO omg i'm rooting so hard for cress halp

benedict just yeeting himself away from women halp

and a splendid waistcoat!!!

okay first of all the rope and the balloon and how we all saw how benedict was pulling on that rope

and then LMAO CRESSIDA faking an injury PLS

OKAY if that's fran's future husband then he's gorgeous

DOM HIM, TILLEY, IS HE NOT FUCKING BEGGING FOR IT

okay, at least we have some hope of the harmony ball music appearing on the s3 soundtrack... whichhhhhh btw is that out?!

nooo i feel so sorry for cressida halp like skjfgnkfg i'm getting a sense that she WOULD have a diet of veggies if that would get her away from her family?? CRESSIDA SKJFNGKGJ don't do the self-abandonment thing (but also yes do the self-abandonment thing, it is a great blorbo thing 😈)

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #ramble.txt #benedict bridgerton #creloise #cressida cowper

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schmem14 · 1 year ago

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Another year, another birthday! Normally I don’t draw much attention to it, but it’s been a rough year, and I want to celebrate my surviving of it by recommending 10 works from mutuals that live in my head RENT FREE forever! Please enjoy them with me, and feel free to shout at me about them in the DM’s, it will make my day!

1. Devil’s Snare All The Way Down by @malpal132

Pairing: Pansy Parkinson/Neville Longbottom Rating: E This is a gorgeous Pansy Parkinson character study, spanning her younger years to post-hogwarts. She becomes reacquainted with Neville Longbottom and discovers who she’s meant to be in this slow-burn ETL.

2. Down a Hill at High Speed by @tepre

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy Rating: E This 8th year fic is the BEST sex-pollen trope story I’ve ever read. Period. Tepre is a genius with sexual tension.

3. May Contain Nuts by scoradh

Pairing: Harry Potter/George Weasley Rating: M This is the fic that I REFUSE TO SHUT UP ABOUT (sorry if you’ve been caught in the crosshairs.) George is trying out a new line for XXX products at the joke shop. Harry is George’s go-to for product testing. Contains found family, dubious sweets, broken George, and NUTS of course! *Note the Archive warning for MCD is in reference to Fred, I think. No Harrys or Georges are harmed in the making of this fic.

4. Savour by @mignon-chignon

Pairing: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Rating: E This is just pure PWP. And all my favorite kinks. Definitely not safe for ANYTHING but a quiet room, a glass of your favorite beverage, and a favorite toy. Mind the tags.

5. Like a Brother Would by @wolfpants

Pairing: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley Rating: E This Deathly Hallows AU explores the posibility of Ron returning back to the tent that night in the Forest of Dean. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read and reread this. I’m obessed with this friends to lovers pairing, this vulnerable and delicious fic. One of the best Ronarry I’ve ever read.

6. The Luxury of a Regret by @swoontodeath

Pairing: Horace Slughorn/Regulus Black, Horace Slughorn/Sirius Black Rating: E IT’S A DEAD DOVE, FOLKS! But it is so creepy and beautiful. I CANNOT stop thinking about it. Imagine if this were canon, Slughorns obession with Harry would be THAT MUCH CREEPIER.

7. Hate, Lead the Way! by oh_black_sparrow

Pairing: Walburga Black/Orion Black Rating: E One of the Rare Pair fest 2022 stories I fell head-over-heels in love with. We know her as the shrewish shrieking portrait permanently stuck to the wall in 12 Grimmauld Place, but in this rage-filled story, she’s a force to be reckoned with.

8. Manufacturing Consent by onefiftyeight

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy/Hermione Granger Rating: E HEAR ME OUT. I don’t normally go for this pairing, but THIS FIC is deliciously sinister. A masterclass in gaslighting and manipulation. A breeding kink extravaganza. Crack at its finest. Give it a chance, I promise you won’t regret it. Mostly.

9. Hot and Bothered by @roseharpermaxwell

Pairing: Ron Weasley/Draco Malfoy, background Dramione Rating: T Who’s the better kisser? Only one way to find out… (Guys. This is reason #1 why Dron is amazing. Mic Drop.)

10. I Like Your Skirt by @the-francakes

Pairing: Ron Weasley/Harry Potter Rating: E Aside from the fact that Fran is lovely and wrote this gift for me, RON AND HARRY are SO YUMMY IN THIS!!! Dual POV, Friends to Lovers, flirting, pining and no small amount of filthy content. The epilogue chapter (bonus smut) is to die for. It will forever reside in my wank bank.

*****

Stay tuned for part 2... (self-recs!)

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coolpeopleonlyexist · 1 year ago

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Taking an eye for an eye.

Fran Fine x CC Babcock

Fran sat at the couch reading a magazine chewing on the end of a pen and eating strawberries from a bowl, trying to decide on what thing to buy for herself when she has the money.

Soon a door slams open "OH MY-" fran gets ready to cover her ears to ignore how many obscenities CC would yell and sometimes she said things fran has never heard of and she lives in New York!

"CC! What is going on!" maxwell rushes down the stairs "The play!" maxwells eyes widen "What happended!" CC gripped maxwells collar clenching her teeth "They messed up." CC was panting after the shouting "They messed up the goddamn PLAY!" CC trying not to punch the wall though she turns to Fran the one who still has a strawberry on her lips frozen "Hello Fran," CC sends her a smile a genuine smile then switching to her straight angered face "If no play, no money." maxwell straightened up "We gotta go work on this." CC runs to the office in heels its actually fascinating but its CC so not that surprising.

Fran runs up the stairs behind them opening the office door sitting next to CC making her smile once again "Hello fran." fran giggles "Well hi!" CC chuckles "You look amazing in that suit, like always." CC smiles pressing her finger under frans chin "Wanna see me without it?" CC chuckles watching fran’s cheeks redden.

CC turns to fran "You look gorgeous. Your dress, its beautiful." fran smiles "Oh thank you mrs.babcock. Though should i say CC?" fran smiles "Just today." fran cackles "Nanny fine!" fran and CC turn to maxwell.

"Will you just shut up!" maxwell yells making fran freeze and so does CC in shock "Maxwell-" CC gets cut off "God ms.fine! your so loud, obnoxiously loud!" he begins to stand up slowly "And i want you OUT the office NOW!" fran stares at him in shock turning to CC but shes just as shocked as fran is and she doesn’t know why maxwell was yelling at fran out of all people "NOW!" fran gets up and walks out closing the door slowly.

CC glares at maxwell "Maxwell what the hell!" CC stands up leaning over the desk "What!" maxwell sits down holding his head in his hands "CC, the play." CC throws the papers on his face her voice dropping it was dangerous and threatening it even scared maxwell, though he would never ever admit that to anyone "Read them yourself you piece of shit." maxwell looks at her in shock "Wait CC-" CC glares at him "Shut up!" maxwell immediantly shuts up picking up the papers on the ground.

CC rushes to frans room opening the door to see fran pacing in biting down on her lip, snapping her head up to CC anger in her eyes.

"I thought you had my back out there!" fran yells at CC with her accent and the rasp in her voice getting thicker "What made you think that fran." fran looks at CC confused "CC i turned to you for help and all you did was stand there!" CC turns to her and fran felt her heart drop to her feet, she hasn’t seen CC look at her so cold and threatening months ago what changed? fran didn’t know.

CC sighs "Fran, Maxwell gets mad sometimes and he was just freaking out." fran felt her nose burn along with her eyes beginning to itch, sniffling fran tries to make up a sentence without completely having a melt down infront of the person she believed that loved her back "Ya know CC, im inlove with you." fran looks up at CC expecting CC to be taken aback with eyes full of disgust but no, she is looking down at her with softness in her eyes "I know." CC sighs itching to take fran into her arms kiss her and hold her til they mold into one.

CC knew fran loves her and CC knew she loves her back "Im inlove with you too." fran wraps her arms around CCs neck and CC wraps her arms around her waist "We shouldn’t be doing this fran, this can-" fran pulls away slapping CCs arm then slapping her again before beginning to punch CC in the chest frantically and CC was grunting ignoring the pain of the punches hitting her "Your so selfish!" fran cries out.

"Fran-" fran stops though her hands were still on CCs chest "I was there just to be by your side!" frans voice cracked as she grabs CCs hand trying to hold her still "I want to be with you CC, i want you." CC slowly slides out her grasp as to not hurt herself more, though it still hurt "Fran..Nanny fine." frans heart shatters from that and its so visible on her face CC felt her eyes begin to burn and get blurry though as she looks down to fran, tears were streaming down her cheeks so CC was sure fran couldn’t see CC also tear up.

CC places her hand onto frans cheek caressing her cheek with her thumb and its too affectionate for fran in the situation they are in she would sink even farther and it would be so much worse for them but fran leans into the touch anyways closing her eyes "Nanny Fran, i don’t think this would work out." fran shakes her head "We can make it work sweetie." CC shakes her head "Fran, we can’t ." fran lets out a sob as CC places a kiss on frans forehead "Can’t we just try?" CC sighs "Fran-" CC gets cut off by a shout.

"Mrs.Fine!" CC pulls away from fran making fran let out a small whimper "Come on fran you need to get back in there." maxwell grabs frans arm, CC looks at fran "The kids are freaking out!" CC felt tears begin sliding down her cheeks and god the sight was so hurtful "You need to fix your makeup." maxwell says then turning back to the door "Yes Mr.Sheffield." fran sniffles and smiles at maxwell that smile, the smile she uses toward maxwell to seduce him.

It hurts to see fran going back to her old ways again and fran knew it hurt CC but nevertheless fran thought of it all the time every night and tried to talk to CC but CC denied it everytime so fran decided to get with maxwell, ignoring CCs teary eyes even though hers are also full of water.

Taking an eye for an eye.

#fran fine x cc babcock #cc x fran #fran x cc #fran fine #cc babcock #fran drescher #francc #angst #the music fran drescher made in 2009 #made in a rush #the nanny #mean maxwell

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romanticatheartt · 7 months ago

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tbh they might make fran and john have a platonic soulmate kind of bond. i have always kind of seen it that way, even from the books, but it was more apparent to me in the show that fran seems more set up to be a lesbian? idk. either way, I’m kind of intrigued. the first meeting scene has potential, the chemistry is there. it’s done now so, ig I’ll accept it and just… see wtf they’ll do now. the actress is gorgeous, good luck to her.

Agreed. In the books we don't see her share that passionate love she shares with Michael, with John. Yes there was a connection there and she really thought it was it. That's why she couldn't accept that what she's feeling with Michael, is also love. But not the platonic love she shared with John.

So I think you might be right. She's going to feel that passionate love with Michaela. But in the books she didn't fell in love with Michael at first sight like she did in the show. So she's not going to feel confused about her "love" for John but her sexuality. Which it can lead to the writers show her love for John less than her love for Michaela... does that make sense?

Either way the writers always have to makes it unnecessarily dramatic and leave some heartbroken. Make it ugly and break bonds to make it interesting cause apparently they don't know any other way.

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton season 3 #francesca bridgerton #john sterling #michaela stirling

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golbrocklovely · 7 months ago

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here is my review of bridgerton season 3 part one, episodes three and four

my review of the first two episodes is here, in case you want to read them.

obvious spoilers ahead for part one and the books

episode three - forces of nature

ngl this episode is a little bit of slogfest for me. like the first half is good, but then you get to the second half, and it's just one ball, and it's the whole entire thing for the rest of the episode. and it's just a wee bit boring. but the polin moments in this episode are top notch so it's still a good ep lol

opening up with him having a sex dream about pen??? I KNOW THAT'S FUCKING RIGHT NOT IN YOUR WILDEST FANTASTIES MY ASS COLIN BRIDGERTON

the dream itself also being just him wishing that she would feel the same as him is honestly so romantic and sweet and god i am DYING

colin fucked his way thru 17 cities and ONE KISS from pen has completely altered his brain chemistry. i love LOVE

the scene of him in the drawing room with his family is honestly my favorite scene out of the entire show. i'm not joking. seeing him so uncomfortable and acting weird bc he doesn't know how to navigate hiding his feelings for her (even at just the mere mention of her name)… i love hopelessly in love men and i'm so serious

also awkward colin is the cutest so there's that lol

that pen and el scene…. how dare you shonda. first time i watched it, cried. writing my review rn, cried again. that shit fucking HURTS

polin's scene under the willow tree, fucking top notch. so funny for no reason other than bc nic and luke are amazing actors. 10/10

i just love that he needs to know why she's ending their lessons. like… cmon now colin lol

her saying we can't be around one another for a while and his "of course :\" i'm cackling my GOD

"i talked to pene-" "whatdidshesay???" that man is a love sick puppy and i'm loving every second of it

i love lady danbury. i feel like i haven't said that yet but i really do love her lol

i wish colin would have seen his shitty friends make their snide remarks at pen. i know we see him later stand up to them but god that would have been sort hot to see now…

lady mondrich… gorgeous dress omg

colin being told that his actions will help pen find a husband, and his absolute face of disappointment… the range luke has is staggering !!

colin's nasty look at pen and debling HOW'S IT FEEL NOW BITCH

finding out that the balloon is cgi was crazy to me. like???? what the hell do you mean that's not real?????

walk him like a dog pen !!

side note, his eyes are absolutely fucking gorgeous like… wow.

the whole scene under that tent, him fidgeting with his hands the whole time, him looking so annoyed at her enjoying her time with debling, STARING AT HER MOUTH WHEN SHE LICKS HER FINGERS !!!! 14/10 i love it here

also here is something i need to note: i don't personally think he bought the cake (or whatever he ate) after she bought one so that he could taste what her mouth tasted like, which is what twitter has been saying. i personally believe that pen gave him the cake she bought when she said "wish me luck". bc we never see her eat, but we see him eat. and we never see him buy something. so… i personally believe she gave him the cake, as a sort of thank you, and he just watched her and ate it. which honestly would be weirdly hotter than him just buying the same cake as her and eating one.

the entire interaction between cressida, el, pen, and debling is so awkward i have to skip thru it. genuinely cannot watch it the secondhand embarrassment is killing me lol

why does he pull such a blue steel look after saying "it's good to be back" sksksk

ben and tilly… don't care. so sorry.

fran and samadani… also don't care lol

it's good to be back…………. but what about the debling guy? he seems weird right? lmaooo

colin springing into action seeing that pen could get hurt? HOT

pen basically almost getting hit bc she was staring too much at colin being hot? HYSTERICAL

danbury's brother is FINE holy shit

side note, claudia looks so much like my aunt it's actually a little bit scary lol

pen and cressida racing to debling…. sweetie you had no chance. cressida is built like a gazelle. take it from this short person here, you were never gonna make it sksks

fran and john meeting for the first time. so sweet.

the scene where colin talks about courage, i wonder if the heartbeat is supposed to be his or hers. i think it's her listening in on him and his words and then when she snaps out of it, that's when she goes to speak to debling.

debling's voice… smooth like BUTTER bb. just thought i would say it

el really gets on my nerves with her saying "it's probably for the best" shit. like i get why she's saying it, but again, it comes from such a place of privilege since she's a bridgerton. some of us have to get with a good match, el. god, you're making me feel sorry for cressida???? fuck me

colin and violet's scene together was just adorable. and her realizing he's in love with pen?? OMG I COULD CRY

i also love that the actress that plays violet wanted to be in the background when colin goes up to tell pen how he feels bc she thought violet would want to watch her son do that. these actors are pulling at my heart strings.

colin genuinely was about to kiss her, in front of everyone, and confess his love. WHY CAN'T MEN BE LIKE THIS

that whole scene was so intense and crazy i love it so much 12/10

i kinda feel like pen wanted colin to say something about his feelings. i don't think she had a clue how he really felt, but i think part of her hoped, even for a split second, that he felt the same about her as she did for him.

again, the english audio descriptor coming in clutch: (watching pen and debling dance) "colin's jaw tightens, he looks away… colin's eyes glistens as he watches, enraptured. helpless." LIKE?????????????

episode four: old friends

we all know why this episode is amazing. but we gotta go thru everything else too lol

her sisters literally not believing she could pull debling and she had to blackmail him… they are the worst and i genuinely hope (and know) that when her and colin get married she will have such a happier life without them in it. truly.

colin going back thru his journal, i wonder if we will get to hear more about what he has written, especially in regards to pen.

him wanting to be recluse bc he's heartbroken… my god colin, pull yourself together and go get your girl!

john really is mister steal your girl lol

for all of portia's faults, her speech on men wanting to explain shit to us otherwise they feel useless… she is 100% correct

colin immediately finding pen in any room he walks into I KNOW THAT'S RIGHT

him being jealous of debling and pen together i could fucking cackle

colin watching her thru a mirror GOD KILL ME NOW

i thought it was sweet the way debling asked pen how he should ask to propose to her. while i don't think he's a perfect match for pen, he's a good man regardless.

i want pen to have a love match, and i'm so happy she has it with colin in the end

you know what song would have been great to use? thinking of you by katy perry. such a gorgeous song and perfect for this whole love triangle going on.

i love that colin tries to get over pen but it's just not happening. he is so in love it's hurting ME lol

what i find fascinating about the scene at mondrich's club is that colin's friends are talking about all the women they have had sex with, right? and they ask him, and he brings up the contessa again, but they go on to explain "yeah but you didn't go into detail"… which basically means that even when he's supposed to be a rake and gross about women, he still couldn't commit to the bit. at most he explained that something happened, but then never went on to talk about her in a gross manner or be un-gentlemen like. god i love colin bridgerton with all of my heart.

his whole speech is so sweet and genuine, it's just a shame that so many men that would learn something from it aren't watching this show. that's just a sad fact.

portia is straight up mother gothel. all she wants is power and what good pen can give her by marrying debling. ew.

colin being fussy and not wanting to outright say he was feeling bad… what a baby lol

violet's speech to him just absolutely pulled at my heart. bc that's the thing, while anthony took the burden of being the man of the house and almost resenting his family for having to grow up so fast, colin was the peacekeeper. he was the one that wanted to make sure everyone was okay and happy. and that's what she means by never putting himself first. he doesn't care if he's in a bad mood or not, it only matters how his love ones feel, which is why he does whatever he can to make them happy and proud. and it's just a shame that so many ppl didn't understand that when they first watched and heard this speech.

pen looked so heartbroken watching the ballet. i think that was her accepting that she would never have that.

i love that in the trailer the candle sparks up, meaning that the love for pen is igniting within him. but in the show, it's blowing out, meaning that he's running out of time to confess his feelings. GOD I LOVE CINEMA

colin pushing past his "friends" THAT'S RIGHT BABY GO GET YOUR GIRL

god my heart breaks for pen. i don't get how anyone could say "debling is the better match" for pen when he literally admits that he doesn't think he'll ever love her. pen DESERVES love. so many ppl in her life have never cared or loved her, not in the way she deserves. and yall want her to continue to feel that emptiness? no way.

colin breaking all the rules to talk to pen when he easily could have waited to speak to her after the dance lmaoooo i love a crazy in love man

eros and psyche battling it OUTTTTT

debling realizing why she's at the window all the time. wow.

i kinda love that he was okay with colin being into pen but not pen reciprocating those feelings lol

portia yet again getting worst mom of the year award

the carriage scene…….. THE CARRIAGE SCENE

the first time i watched this scene, i was sweating SO MUCH by the end of it. genuinely it was obscene how hot i was (in more ways than one lmao)

also immediately after its airing, i watched it like 10-15 times. and i haven't seen it in probably over a week and i'm dying all over again for this review.

him running after the carriage, colin bridgerton the man that you are.

even while he is desperate and pleading, he is still kind and asking for permission GOD HE IS SO HOT WHY CAN'T HE BE REAL

his reasons for why pen shouldn't marry debling is laughable but i love it regardless.

his pleading face before he confesses… his EYES?????? you're fucking joking rn

his confession, hands down, is the best in the series. and hell, it's not even the last one he does omg i'm not gonna make it !!!!!

the fact that for a moment he legit thought she didn't love him back was nuts bro you are BLIND

genuinely anytime i watch this scene, i feel like i'm intruding lol like should i leave? maybe i should go sksks

every single shot of them kissing is hot and sexy and romantic and dear god in heaven i am LONELY

her running her fingers thru his hair…. god luke/colin has never looked hotter. he might as well as rolled his eyes back in head lol

it's titty season yall. TITTY SEASON BABY

i implore anyone reading this to find the clip of this scene without the music. not only bc nic and luke's moans are hot, but bc at one point he calls her beautiful and i think in that moment i died.

i think i could genuinely watch this scene 100 million times and notice something new every time

honest to god, one of the sexiest things about this scene is him watching her feel pleasure. like holy fucking shit, that is so hot.

moaning into each other's mouths??? you guys are absolute fucking FREAKS

colin saying the line about the carriage driver is so much better than pen lol

also in general show!colin is way better than book!colin. hands down.

the look colin gives her, both before their little kiss and than afterwards right before he gets out makes me fucking FERAL

him fixing her dress and hair is literally so cute i could cry

that once over he gives her when he gets out of the carriage…. why is he so hot?????

i just love how exhausted he is of her not understanding him sksksk

in conclusion i love love and i love polin. when part two comes out, no one talk to me bc i will in fact be an absolute wreck thank you and good night :)

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #personal #text #bridgerton review

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salvawhores-world · 1 year ago

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Sparks - Anthony Bridgerton (Final Part)

Anthony Bridgerton x Florence Channingwoth (fem!oc)

Warnings - Angst, mentions of death,blood. Anthony being a stubborn idiot, sarcastic Bridgertons

A/n- this is the last and final part of sparks I put way too much effort and love into this I had so much to show about Florence and Anthony and Florence as an individual but here it is I guess

Anthony bridgerton Angst is a GENRE in itself

It was a splendid afternoon at Aubrey Hall as Florence arrived, filled with excitement for the week ahead with the Bridgertons.

Having spent much of her childhood alone, with Simon occasionally by her side, Florence cherished the dynamic shared by the Bridgerton siblings.

"Ah, good afternoon, Miss Channingworth. Welcome to Aubrey Hall," Benedict greeted her playfully, the entire family gathered to welcome her.

"Why, thank you, Lord Bridgerton," she replied with a teasing smile.

"Miss Flower!" Ava squealed, fussing in Colin's arms. Florence's face lit up as she approached the young girl, taking her into her own arms.

"How is my little love doing?" she greeted Ava, who leaned forward happily.

"You look gorgeous, my dear, and we are so grateful to finally have you here," Violet Bridgerton greeted warmly.

"You're too kind, Lady Bridgerton," Florence replied, her smile radiating gratitude.

"Very pretty, Gramma is right," Ava chimed in, wrapping her arms around Florence's neck and nestling her head on her shoulder.

Florence affectionately kissed the little girl's forehead, eliciting amusement from the Bridgertons at Ava's immediate comfort with someone she had just met.

Although Ava was naturally affectionate, this level of ease was reserved for Anthony, Benedict, and occasionally Daphne.

"Florence, let's go inside. I can't wait; I have so much to tell you," Eloise eagerly exclaimed.

"Don't mind her, Florence. Eloise always has boundless enthusiasm when we're in the country," Violet remarked, gently urging her second eldest daughter to behave.

"And so do I, Lady Bridgerton," Florence replied with a smile as the family made their way into the house.

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for a particular man. Colin, noticing her searching gaze, spoke up, "Did you find what you are looking for?"

"Or rather, who you are looking for," Benedict interjected, his throat clearing.

A blush crept up on Florence's face as she narrowed her eyes.

“I'm sure you wouldn't concern yourselves unless your own lives were dear," she retorted with a sly smile before walking away to join Francesca, who was busy admonishing Ava for indulging in too many cakes.

"Ooh, fierce," Colin remarked, while Benedict added, "I see what he sees."

"Miss Flower, we should go to my room, and you can read stories to me," Ava interrupted Florence's conversation with Francesca about Scotland.

"Ava, my dear, Miss Florence has just arrived. I believe she would appreciate some rest. You can have your story read to you later," Violet gently intervened.

Ava held onto Florence's gown, her tiny fist clenching as she looked up at her with a hint of sadness. Anyone could see the uncanny resemblance between Ava and Anthony—it was almost eerie.

"Well, how kind of you, Lady Bridgerton, but I assure you, I am perfectly fine," Florence replied, smiling warmly at Violet. "In fact, I would love to read for you, Ava."

"Yay! This wayyyyy," Ava exclaimed, brimming with excitement as she tugged at Florence's hand, urging her to follow.

Mother, are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Francesca whispered to her mother, taking a sip of her tea.

”hmm” she hummed. “But it truly depends on what he is thinking, Fran," Violet replied, referring to her eldest son, leaving the possibilities open and full of anticipation.

“And where is my daughter?" Anthony inquired, sliding his pocket watch back into his waistcoat.

Benedict greeted him, "Hello, Brother,"

while Colin offered, "Would you like some tea?"

"The lot of you are acting suspicious. Am I unaware of something?" Anthony scanned the drawing room, his curiosity piqued.

"No, nothing of the sort. It's just that your dear daughter hasn't left Florence's side since her arrival," Eloise grumbled.

"Miss Flo..." Anthony cleared his throat, correcting himself, "Miss Channingworth is already here? Why wasn't I informed?" Restlessness tinged his voice.

"Perhaps because, for once, you were busy being the viscount," Colin jested, earning a chuckle from his siblings.

"Colin, must I remind you that I approve your funds? There is still so much to see around the world, is there not?" Anthony retorted.

“Well, Anthony, Ava insisted that Miss Channingworth read to her, and they're both in Ava's room," Violet chimed in.

Daphne swore she had never seen her brother move so swiftly.

As Anthony hurried towards Ava's room, a mix of amusement and anticipation danced in the air, leaving the rest of the Bridgertons to exchange knowing glances, relishing the comical sight of their usually composed and collected brother being driven by a certain someone.

Ava's door was slightly ajar, and what Anthony noticed melted his heart. He couldn't recall the last time he had felt this way, as if he would turn into a puddle and melt.

There, on a chair, Florence sat, peacefully asleep, with Ava nestled on her lap. Florence held Ava close, providing a secure haven for the slumbering child.

Anthony's heart swelled with warmth, witnessing the tender scene before him.

Ava slept soundly, her head resting on Florence's chest, the book they had been reading still clutched in her hand, now turned upside down.

The sight stirred emotions within Anthony, a profound sense of peace and contentment. He approached the girls cautiously, taking the book from Ava's grasp and gently placing it on the side table. Leaning in, he planted a delicate kiss on his daughter's forehead.

As he leaned closer, he couldn't help but inhale the fresh Citrus Chamomile scent emanating from Florence.

It was as if she embodied the essence of summer itself, bringing a warmth and brightness into his life that he had long yearned for.

He straightened himself and gazed at Florence, captivated by her beauty—both inside and out. She was the epitome of every man's dreams

He noticed a stray curl that had escaped Florence's neat bun, framing her serene face. With a trembling hand, he gently tucked the wayward curl behind her ear, marveling at the softness of her skin and the delicate beauty that radiated from her.

Anthony realized the depth of his feelings, a whirlwind of emotions overwhelming his senses.

However, as reality set in, Anthony became aware of his actions and the emotions they stirred within him. Taking a deep breath, he swiftly retreated from his daughter's room.

As evening descended upon Aubrey Hall, Florence took the time to write a letter to her father, sharing the delightful experiences she had encountered during her stay.

She also enjoyed a pleasant conversation with Eloise, relishing their time together.

As the hour of dinner approached, the Bridgertons and Florence gathered around the grand table, ready to indulge in a sumptuous meal.

Throughout the day, Florence had not crossed paths with Anthony, leading her to believe that he had purposely avoided her.

However, she chided herself for allowing such thoughts to limit her perspective.

After all, Anthony was a viscount with numerous responsibilities and estate affairs to attend to.

Surely, his absence was merely a consequence of his duties.

Yet, as he finally took his place at the head of the table, next to Florence, their eyes involuntarily gravitated towards each other.

Ava, being her usual spirited self, insisted on sitting beside her father, as was her custom, with Florence positioned opposite Ava on Anthony’s left.

"So, love, how was your day?" Anthony asked his daughter Ava, his eyes filled with warmth. Ava beamed, her toothy grin shining brightly as she replied,

“It was great, Dada. Uncle Colin woke me up, and then we broke fast, and then Miss Flower arrived." She glanced at Florence, who returned the smile, while Anthony's expression mirrored theirs.

“Miss Flower read to me, but we couldn't finish the story because apparently, we both fell asleep," Ava continued, her enthusiasm contagious.

Benedict, intrigued, chimed in, "Is that so? What story did you read, Ava?" Ava's excitement grew as she launched into an explanation,

“It's a story, Uncle Ben, about a girl named Anne who loves Frederick, but they don't get together. Years later, he comes back to her."

Benedict grinned mischievously, his words layered with meaning, "So, he has a second chance, does he not?" The table, except Ava, understood his subtle reference.

"Yes, Uncle Ben, I should hope he does. But we haven't reached that part yet, where we find out if they get together, have we, Miss Flower?" Ava innocently posed the question to Florence.

Florence smiled warmly at Ava, "No, we haven't, Ava. We'll have to keep reading to find out," she replied, her voice laced with anticipation.

, "So, we hope they get together. Colin, joining the conversation, added,

Anthony, suddenly defensive, interjected, “no.things don’t always work the way you want them to, second chances pretty much end up the same as the first, if not worse." Florence couldn't help but scoff at his words.

"Whatever do you mean, Lord Bridgerton? Second chances are the universe's way of saying you deserve this. How could you dismiss something like that?" she retorted, her tone firm.

The table fell into a tense silence as all eyes were drawn to the intense exchange between Anthony and Florence.

Sensing the need to diffuse the situation, Francesca attempted to shift the focus. "What do you think, Ava?" she asked, her voice gentle yet concerned.

"If getting with Anne makes Frederick happy, then he most definitely should, because they love each other," Ava innocently responded, oblivious to the weight of her words.

"Persuasion, Jane Austen, is it not?"Francesca, recognizing the literary reference, inquired

Florence smiled, delighted by Francesca's recognition. "It is. Ava and I are looking forward to completing that book," she affirmed, ignoring Anthony's presence.

Eloise, unable to contain her excitement, interjected, "Have I mentioned that Florence and I are birthday twins? We were born on the same day."

"And the same year," Eloise added, emphasizing the synchronicity.

Florence playfully questioned, "Coincidence, do you think?" Eloise shook her head with conviction.

“Soulmates, nothing less," she declared, her belief unwavering.

"I must excuse myself. I have important work to finish," Anthony announced abruptly, standing up from the table.

“Fetch me from the study once you're done eating, will you, Ava?" He directed a smile towards his daughter, who nodded in response.

As Anthony left the dining room, an awkward atmosphere settled among the Bridgertons, leaving them to an uneasy dinner.

After dinner, Anthony settled Ava into bed and returned to his study. Although he attempted to focus on his work, his attention kept gravitating towards Edmund's portrait.

The creaking of the door snapped Anthony out of his reverie, and he looked up to find Florence standing before him.

Her caramel brown hair flowed freely, and she wore a sheer white nightgown beneath a loosely draped overcoat that left little to the imagination.

Anthony struggled to avert his gaze, trying to maintain proper decorum.

Is something amiss, Miss Channingworth?" Anthony inquired, his voice tinged with concern.

He attempted to keep his focus on her face, but the allure of her presence made it difficult to look away.

Florence stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and advanced toward Anthony.

Her every movement seemed purposeful. "That's precisely what I wish to know, my lord," she responded.

“It I improper for you to be here like this” Anthony but whispered.

“why?” her voice carrying a mix of determination and vulnerability.

“It's just... because you are a lady," he faltered, attempting to explain himself.

"No, I do not care about that” she pressed, her eyes searching his for answers.

“Why are you acting this way? Have I done something to upset you?" Her genuine confusion showed on her face, prompting Anthony to question his own actions.

Anthony, now slightly flustered, responded, "Whatever do you mean? I am perfectly normal."

He crossed his arms defensively, clad only in his loose white shirt and black trousers, his hair disheveled and shirt unbuttoned. Florence felt a deep stirring within her at his mere presence.

"You are the one who invited me here to spend the vacation with your family, and you are the one who hasn't spoken a word to me since my arrival," she said, genuine confusion etched on her face. "Have I done something to upset you?"

Anthony's internal struggle intensified. He longed to embrace her, to reassure her that she had done nothing wrong, that she could never do anything wrong.

He yearned to shield her from sorrow, from all the evils of the world. But most of all, he yearned to protect her from himself.

He walked towards her, his voice barely above a whisper, "Look at me."

When she hesitated, he gently cupped her cheek with his calloused hands, compelling her to meet his gaze.

Their eyes locked, and Florence glimpsed the profound sadness that lingered within Anthony's depths. "You have done nothing wrong," Anthony finally confessed, his voice trembling with vulnerability

"My mind is always playing tricks on me. It's me. I apologize if I have hurt you. I promise I will be better from now on."

His words washed over Florence, soothing her own insecurities. "I know we barely know each other, but you can talk to me whenever you wish, share your worries with me. I may not have all the answers, but I can listen," she offered, gently intertwining her fingers with his.

Anthony could only nod, speechless in the face of Florence's compassion. They stood there, unable to tear their gazes away from one another.

Florence noticed the weariness etched on Anthony's anguished face, though he was only one and thirty.

He appeared tired and lost, and she felt an overwhelming desire to break down his walls and pull him out from his deepest and darkest sorrows.

Yet, a lingering question remained at the back of her mind—who was Ava's birth mother? His wife? Their tender moment was abruptly interrupted as a gust of wind swept through the room, scattering Anthony's papers.

They quickly broke apart, both rushing to collect the scattered documents, Florence following closely behind Anthony, eager to help him in any way she could.

Florence's eyes fixated on a wooden pen stand resting on Anthony's table.

She stared at it intently, her fingers delicately tracing its edges as memories flooded her mind.

“Simon has the same one," she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of fondness and nostalgia.

Anthony's gaze softened as he observed Florence's genuine interest.

Memories of his college days with Simon came rushing back, and he couldn't help but smile. "Yes, indeed. We bought it for each other back in Oxford," he reminisced

Curiosity brimming within him, Anthony gently probed, "For how long have you known Simon? You seem to be more than just friends."

"Since the day I was born,she said sitting on the edge of the table, met Anthony's gaze, a genuine warmth radiating from her. “Simon and I have been like siblings.”

“Our mothers were best friends, and Lady Danbury took us under her care. Even after they were married off to dukes, their friendship remained unbreakable."

As Florence continued sharing the story, Anthony listened intently, his heart growing heavy with empathy.

He was familiar with the pain Simon had endured in his childhood.

Florence spoke of her mother's love for Simon, her parents' adoration, and the deep bond that had formed between them.

Anthony couldn't help but admire the strength and love that surrounded them.

The depth of their connection resonated with Anthony, and he found himself captivated by Florence's words.

She described their shared adventures, the lessons Simon had imparted, and the countless letters she had written to him

A smile danced across Anthony's face as he recalled Simon treasuring those letters, cherishing every word she had penned

Anthony reached out, his hand gently brushing against Florence's, "I can see how much you love him” their eyes met, filled with unspoken emotions.

The night unfolded before them as they migrated their conversation to the comfort of the couch in Anthony's study.

Nestled in their respective corners, they continued to delve into the depths of their lives, sharing stories, and seeking a profound understanding of one another.

It was an intimate exchange, a dance of words and emotions, where they gradually unraveled the layers that had kept them apart.

There were topics left untouched, delicate threads woven into the tapestry of their lives that they chose to leave unexplored for the time being. Anthony's father, a shadowy figure whose memory haunted him, remained unspoken.

They shared their dreams, their fears, and the moments that had shaped them into who they were. There was a magnetic pull between them, drawing them closer with each passing word, as if they were unraveling the secrets of their souls.

Time slipped away, and the early hours of morning tiptoed in, casting a soft glow upon the room. Exhaustion gradually crept upon them, their voices growing softer and their eyelids growing heavier.

After Benedict gently woke Ava and helped her get ready for the day, they descended the stairs together for breakfast.

As they made their way down, Ava held Benedict's hand tightly and inquired about Florence.

“Have you seen Miss Flower?" she asked, her curiosity brimming. Benedict chuckled affectionately,

“No, my dear. I'm sure she is taking her time. Perhaps your father will be able to tell us where she is."

Ava's excitement grew, and she darted towards her father's study, with Benedict trailing behind, trying to keep up with her energetic pace.

As Ava entered the study, she found Anthony peacefully sleeping on one end of the couch. On the other end, Florence slumbered, her presence a comforting sight.

Benedict entered the room, breaking the eerie silence. He couldn't help but notice their hands, mere inches apart from touching, and a mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes.as he cleared his throat

Suddenly, Anthony was jolted awake, his eyes meeting Florence's as they both realized their positions.

Benedict seized the opportunity, greeting them with a playful tone, "A splendid morning, isn't it, Anthony?" A glare from Anthony quickly transformed into a forced smile as he glanced at his daughter.

"Dada! Did you sleep with Miss Flower?" Ava innocently asked, oblivious to the tension in the room.

Florence's eyes widened, mirroring the surprise that reflected in the Bridgerton brothers' expressions.

Sensing the awkwardness, she swiftly rose from her seat, stammering, "Umm... I... I must go join Eloise and Francesca for breakfast."

With a hurried exit from the study, she released a sigh of relief once she reached the safety of the hallway.

A day or two passed by, enveloping Aubrey Hall in a peaceful embrace. Florence found solace in the routines that had naturally formed.

During lunchtime, as Ava immersed herself in sketching, Florence would pause to feed Ava, carefully attending to her needs.

She took delight in fixing Ava's hair, selecting her gowns, and cradling her to sleep, holding her close to her chest.

In between these moments, Florence would find herself engrossed in conversations with Anthony.

They would discuss the affairs of the estate, sharing their thoughts and insights.

Benedict, always passionate about his interests, would occasionally rant about modern art not being genuine art, and Florence would patiently listen, appreciating his unique perspective.

Colin, on the other hand, would seek her assistance in mapping out his next adventurous travels, while Eloise would engage in lively discussions about books, their shared love for literature bringing them closer.

She would also indulge in playing the piano, joining Francesca and Daphne in melodious harmony.

As for the younger Bridgerton siblings, Florence would joyfully engage in playful activities with Gregory, Hyacinth, and Ava whenever the opportunity arose.

Her presence in their lives was slowly becoming a natural part of their family dynamics.

Violet, acknowledged Florence's integration into the Bridgerton family, understanding that it would take a significant step from her son to solidify their connection further.

On a sun-drenched afternoon, the Bridgerton children played merrily in the outdoor expanse, their laughter filling the air.

Amidst the joyous atmosphere, Eloise and Florence found themselves sharing laughter over a particularly amusing novel.

Anthony, captivated by Florence's melodic laughter, found himself lost in her presence, the newspaper long forgotten.

Suddenly, Gregory burst into the house, panting and breathless. His urgent voice cut through the laughter, drawing everyone's attention.

“Brother!" he exclaimed, his words tumbling out. "It's... It's Ava. She fainted and struck her head near the old tree trunk."

The atmosphere instantly shifted, the weight of the news too overwhelming for anyone to process.

Anthony's mind raced, and in that moment, all he could do was sprint out of the manor, propelled by his paternal instincts, desperately searching for his beloved daughter.

Inside, Violet swiftly took charge, issuing orders to summon the physician and ensure all necessary arrangements were made.

The commotion stirred the maids into action, their hurried footsteps echoing through the halls as they prepared for the impending arrival of medical aid. The urgency brought Florence back to reality, her thoughts abruptly interrupted.

Anthony, fueled by fear and worry, encountered a frantic Hyacinth, with Ava's limp form cradled in her lap.

He called out his daughter's name, his voice filled with anguish, before scooping her up and carrying her swiftly into the hall.

Florence, unable to remain idle, trailed behind them, her heart pounding in her chest.

As they ascended the staircase, a sense of dread hung in the air. Florence couldn't shake the sickening feeling that washed over her, witnessing Ava, unconscious in Anthony's arms. It was a sight she had never anticipated, one that struck her to her very core

“Hyacinth”, Francesca’s eyes widening in shock, gasped when she noticed the bloodstained gown worn by Hyacinth.

Hyacinth, her voice laced with concern, reassured her sister: "No, no, Francesca, it's not mine.”

As Anthony tenderly placed Ava on her bed, Florence delicately sprinkled water droplets on the child's cherubic face, hoping for any sign of response. But Ava remained still, unresponsive to their pleas.

"Why is she... why won't she wake up" The weight of the situation pressed heavily on Anthony, causing him to pant and run his hand through his disheveled hair.

Desperation filled his words, his eyes welling up with tears. Florence, her heart aching for both father and daughter, gently rubbed Ava's tiny feet, trying to bring warmth and life back to her fragile body.

"Sweet Ava, please wake up," Anthony implored, leaning closer to his daughter.

His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke directly to her, hoping to reach her unconscious mind. "Dada is here, my love. You can hear me, can't you?"

Beside him, Florence added her soft voice, filled with tenderness and concern.

"Darling Ava, please wake up. You're scaring us all. We're here for you, my dear."

Anthony's eyes flickered with pain and confusion, his shattered spirit laid bare before Florence.

Never before had she witnessed a man so utterly broken, especially the usually brooding and composed Viscount.

In the midst of their anguish, Benedict stormed into the room, followed closely by Colin, and the physician.

Sensing the need for privacy, Benedict discreetly gestured to Florence, silently instructing her to guide Anthony away from the distressing scene.

Understanding his unspoken words, Florence pressed a gentle kiss to Ava's small feet and rose from her position.

"Lord Bridgerton," she spoke softly, wrapping her hand around his strong bicep, urging him to follow her. "For Ava's well-being, we must step away. Come, it is essential."

Anthony, lost in his own torment, looked at Florence, his emotions on the precipice of a complete breakdown.

He nodded and allowed himself to be led away, leaving Benedict and Colin to attend to the dire situation with Ava.

Florence guided Anthony into the adjacent room, firmly grasping his shoulders as she guided him to sit on the edge of the bed. Standing before him.

Anthony's voice trembled as he whispered Ava's name, the weight of his anguish finally breaking through the barriers he had held for so long. Tears streamed down his face, and Florence's own eyes welled up in response.

Florence cupped Anthony's face, . He clung to her, his arms wrapping tightly around her midsection as he sought comfort in her presence.

His head rested against her stomach, his sobs shaking his entire frame. Florence held him close, offering a steady presence in the midst of his storm.

“Let it all out," Florence whispered softly, her voice a soothing balm.

“I am here with you." Her hand gently ran through his disheveled hair, her touch offering a sense of reassurance amidst the overwhelming emotions.

Tears continued to stream down his face, and Florence, her heart aching for him, wiped them away, her own tears mingling with his.

In that moment, as Anthony looked up to face her as he still clung to her, Florence couldn't help but be reminded of Ava and her innocent, doe-like eyes.

"She will be fine, Anthony," Florence reassured, her voice filled with unwavering conviction.

She carefully smoothed a stray strand of hair from his forehead, her touch gentle yet steadfast. "Ava is your daughter, and she is incredibly resilient."

“She will be okay, I promise you. You are both very stubborn to let go off one another," she said, a soft smile gracing her lips.

The sound of his chuckle brought a glimmer of light.

"We will see her soon," she murmured, leaning down to press a tender kiss to his forehead.

Colin and Benedict paced anxiously in the hallway outside Ava's room, their worry etched upon their faces.

The physician emerged from the room, his expression grave yet composed. He approached Anthony, who had managed to regain some semblance of composure with Florence's support.

"Lord Bridgerton," the physician began, his voice steady and measured. "Miss Bridgerton has suffered a head injury, but fortunately, there doesn't appear to be any serious damage.“

. "Will she be alright? Is she in any danger?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of fear and hope.

The physician nodded, offering a glimmer of reassurance. "As of now, she is stable. The fall likely caused a temporary loss of consciousness, due to heat but her vital signs are strong. We will keep a vigilant watch over her to ensure her condition remains stable."

Her eyes held a gentle warmth, silently assuring Anthony that they were in this together.

Anthony turned to Florence, his gratitude evident in his gaze. "Thank you, Florence, for being here with me," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

Florence clasped Anthony's hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to thank me, Anthony. Ava has become so much more to me than I could imagine and I care deeply for her.

Colin and Benedict exchanged knowing glances.

During Ava's recovery, Florence took on the role of a devoted caretaker, tending to her every need with unwavering love and tenderness.

She made sure Ava was comfortable, bathing her gently and combing her hair with delicate strokes.

One evening, as Florence sat by Ava's bedside, Anthony quietly entered the room. His eyes sparkled with admiration as he watched Florence tenderly feeding Ava, coaxing her to eat a few more spoonfuls of soup.

"Look at you two," Anthony said softly, his voice filled with adoration. "You're like two guardian angels, watching over each other."

Florence glanced up and smiled at Anthony, her love for both him and Ava radiating from her eyes. "We make a good team, don't we?" she replied, her voice filled with warmth.

Ava, her strength slowly returning, giggled at their exchange. "You're both silly," she teased, her eyes brightening with mirth.

In the following days, Florence continued to care for Ava, engaging her in gentle activities to aid her recovery.

They spent hours reading books together, their voices filled with warmth and affection.

Florence even taught Ava how to braid, their hands intertwining as they braided her dolls.

One sunny afternoon, as Anthony entered the room, he was greeted by the sight of Florence and Ava engaged in a lively game of pretend, their laughter filling the air.

Florence had donned a makeshift crown made of flowers, while Ava held a toy sword, defending their imaginary kingdom.

Anthony's heart swelled with love as he watched the scene unfold before him. "I've never seen two more beautiful princesses," he said, his voice filled with adoration.

Ava beamed with delight, her eyes shining with joy. "And we have the best prince too!" she exclaimed, running into Anthony's arms for a warm embrace.

One evening, the Bridgerton family gathered in the grand drawing room of the Bridgerton Manor.

Benedict, ever the mischievous one, couldn't help but notice the way Anthony's eyes followed Florence's every move.

Clearing his throat dramatically, Benedict spoke up, "Anthony, my dear brother, I do believe there's something floating in the air, and it's not just the scent of roses."

Anthony furrowed his brows in confusion. "What on earth are you talking about, Benedict?"

Eloise, unable to contain her curiosity, chimed in, "He's talking about Florence, of course! We've all noticed the way you look at her. You're positively smitten!"

Francesca giggled, adding, "Yes, Anthony, it's quite obvious. You're as transparent as a glass window when she's around."

Anthony's cheeks flushed crimson, realizing that his feelings for Florence were no secret within the family. He attempted to deny it, "Nonsense! Florence and I are just good friends."

Daphne raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Oh, just friends, you say? Well, then, I suppose the way you gaze at her with stars in your eyes is merely a friendly gesture."

Colin, joined in the fun. "And the way you stumble over your words whenever she's near, that's just your friendly charm shining through, right?"

"Anthony, dear, Florence is a remarkable young woman. She has brought light and joy into our lives. If you care for her, don't let your pride get in the way.” Violet said

A hush fell over the drawing room as Ava's innocent voice echoed through the air.

Florence's heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. The tension in the room was palpable as everyone turned their gaze towards her and Ava.

"Mama," Ava called out again, running towards Florence with her arms outstretched.

Florence's eyes widened with surprise, her mind racing to comprehend the weight of that word coming from Ava's lips.

She knelt down, meeting Ava halfway, her voice trembling slightly. "Darling, Mama? I'm Miss Flower."

"But Mama, you did everything for me. You took care of me just like Gramma takes care of Hyacinth and Gregory. They call her Mama, so it's only fair that I call you Mama too." Ava looked up at Florence with her big, innocent eyes, her face lit up with a radiant smile.

Florence felt a lump forming in her throat, her emotions swirling like a tempest within her.

She tried to find the right words, but they eluded her in that moment of overwhelming love and confusion.

She glanced at Anthony, hoping to find guidance, only to see him storming out of the room, his face etched with pain and turmoil.

Caught between the sheer joy of being acknowledged as a mother figure and the devastation of witnessing Anthony's retreat, Florence felt lost.

Her eyes filled with unshed tears as she looked back at Ava, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

“My darling Ava," Florence said, her voice filled with both love and acceptance, "if it brings you joy and happiness to call me Mama, then I will gladly be your Mama.”

Ava's face lit up with delight, her innocence shining through. "Oh, Mama, I'm so glad you understand! You're the best Mama I could ever have!"

Florence's heart swelled with love and gratitude as she held Ava close. She glanced at the other Bridgerton family members, who were watching the interaction with soft smiles and teary eyes.

Florence held onto Ava, cherishing the precious bond they had formed, while silently praying for a way to bridge the divide between Anthony's pain and her own longing to be a mother to the child who had captured her heart.

Florence took a deep breath, summoning her courage as she entered the study where Anthony was seated, his brow furrowed with worry. She approached him slowly, her steps hesitant yet determined.

"Anthony, we need to talk," she said, her voice steady despite the nerves pulsing through her.

He glanced up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of apprehension and defiance. "About Ava calling you Mama, I suppose," he replied curtly, his tone laced with tension.

Florence nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Yes, Anthony. It's important that we address this and find a way to understand each other."

He scoffed, his frustration evident. "Understand? Florence, I never asked for this. I never asked for Ava to call you Mama."

Florence's eyes welled up with tears, but she refused to let them fall. "I understand it's difficult for you, Anthony. But Ava's love knows no boundaries. She sees the care and affection I have for her, and it's natural for her to call me Mama. I can't deny her that."

Deny her? Deny her?!" Anthony's voice rose, his anger seeping through his words. "It's not about denying her, Florence. It's about accepting that you're taking a place in her life that should only belong for someone who intends to stay or I’d rather no one”

Florence's voice trembled as she fought to maintain her composure. "Anthony, I would never leave the love that has blossomed between Ava and me. It's pure and genuine."

He stood abruptly, his face contorted with anguish. "Pure and genuine? Don't you understand, Florence? It's tearing me apart. It's a constant reminder of my failures, of the loss I've endured. I can't bear it."

Tears streamed down Florence's face now, her voice breaking. "And what about me, Anthony? What about the love I've developed for Ava? Do you think it's easy for me? I never asked for this either, but I love her with every fiber of my being. I can't walk away from that, no matter how hard it gets."

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and desperation. "Go on then," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Be the Mama she needs. But don't expect me to be a part of it."

With those words, Anthony turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Florence alone, her heart shattered into pieces. She sank to the floor, her sobs echoing through the empty space.

Daphne and Ava stood outside Anthony's study, their small frames hidden behind the grand wooden door. Ava tugged at her aunt's sleeve, her wide eyes filled with confusion.

"Auntie Daph, why are Mama and Dada yelling?" she whispered, her voice innocent and concerned.

Daphne knelt down to Ava's level, trying to find the right words to explain the situation to her young niece. "Well, sometimes grown-ups get upset and they express their feelings loudly. But it doesn't mean they don't love each other or you, sweet Ava."

Ava furrowed her brow, clearly unconvinced. "But why are they mad? Did I do something wrong?"

Daphne shook her head gently, her heart melting at Ava's innocence. "No, darling, it's not your fault. Mama and Dada are trying to figure out something important, and sometimes it can be a bit challenging.“

Just then, the raised voices from inside the study grew louder, making Ava cover her ears with her tiny hands.

Daphne quickly scooped her up, carrying her away from the noise, and they found refuge in the comforting embrace of the family's cozy sitting room.

"There, my darling," Daphne said, cradling Ava in her arms. "Let's stay here for a little while until everything settles down. We can read your favorite storybook together."

Ava's eyes brightened as she nodded, her trust in her aunt bringing a sense of reassurance. They curled up on the soft couch, opening the well-worn pages of Ava's treasured storybook, allowing the gentle rhythm of Daphne's voice to drown out the echoes of the argument.

Florence entered Ava's room, her heart still heavy from the argument with Anthony. She found Daphne sitting on the edge of Ava's bed, her eyes filled with concern.

"Daphne, thank you for looking after Ava," Florence said, her voice soft with gratitude.

Daphne smiled warmly. "Of course, Florence. . I'll leave you two alone now."

As Daphne left the room, Florence sat down on the bed beside Ava, taking a deep breath to calm her racing thoughts. She looked at Ava, who gazed up at her with wide eyes, still trying to make sense of the earlier commotion.

"Sweetheart," Florence began, her voice gentle, "I want to talk to you about what happened earlier. I know it might have been confusing and scary for you."

Ava nodded, her small hand reaching out to grasp Florence's.

""Sometimes, grown-ups have disagreements, but it doesn't mean they love you any less. They just need some time to work things out

Ava looked up at Florence, her eyes searching for understanding. "But why were you yelling?"

Florence sighed, gathering Ava in her arms and holding her close. "Sometimes, when people are upset, they raise their voices.“

Ava nodded, her expression slowly easing into understanding. "So, you’re not mad at me?"

Florence's heart melted at Ava's innocent question.

She kissed the top of her head gently. "Absolutely not, my darling. I love you with all my heart, and nothing you do could ever change that."

As Florence helped Ava get ready for bed, their conversation continued in a lighthearted and playful manner. They giggled over bedtime stories, shared secrets about their favorite desserts.

The tension in the air was palpable as Anthony confronted Florence just outside Ava's room. His face was etched with anguish, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and pain.

"Tell me, Florence," Anthony's voice trembled with barely contained emotion, "what happens when you're out next season? When you find someone else and decide to marry, abandoning all of us?"

Florence's eyes widened, her heart breaking at the hurt in Anthony's words. "Anthony, how can you say that?" she whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. "Do you truly believe I would just leave? Leave you? Leave Ava?"

Anthony's voice grew louder, the anger bubbling to the surface “But why are you so keen on tying yourself down to someone so much older? You deserve so much better, Florence.”

Florence looked at him, her eyes filled with both hurt and understanding. "Anthony, age is just a number," she said softly.

Anthony shook his head, his voice filled with self-doubt. "Florence, you have your whole life ahead of you. You should be out there, experiencing the joys of youth, finding someone who can offer you everything I can't."

"Jokes on you if you think I'll go out and marry somebody else," she said, her voice filled with conviction.

“After Ava called me her mother, after the love that has grown between us, do you really think I could possibly love any child of mine as I love Ava? She is my daughter now, Anthony, and I can't imagine my life without her or without you." Florence's voice trembled with emotion as she reached out to cup his face, her eyes welling up with tears.

Anthony's frustration mingled with his pain, his voice filled with bitter resignation. . “ i am older, with a past that I can't erase. And you... you deserve someone who can offer you the dreams and aspirations of youth."

Florence's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she fought to find her voice, her heart breaking with every word. "Anthony, love is not a transaction," she said, her voice filled with a mix of sadness and determination.

“It's not about what one person can offer another. Love is about connection, understanding, and standing by each other through the storms of life."

"I'm tired, Anthony," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm tired of fighting against the world, against your doubts.

“I can't keep convincing you of my love, of my commitment to you and Ava."

"If you truly believe that I am better off without you, then maybe it's time I walk away," she said, her voice quivering with sorrow. "Maybe it's time I find my own path, where I am not constantly questioned and doubted."

"Florence, please, just listen to me. You're 12 years younger than me. You deserve so much more, someone who can offer you a future full of possibilities." Anthony's voice cracked as he called out, trying to explain his, desperation evident in his tone.

"You deserve a chance at a life filled with excitement and adventure, Florence. Not one where you are tied to a man burdened with responsibilities and the weight of the past." He continued

Florence took a deep breath, her voice steady but laced with pain. "Anthony, I don't want excitement or adventure without you. I want a life with you, facing whatever challenges come our way. I love you, and that love doesn't waver just because of our age difference."

Anthony's gaze met hers, his expression a mix of longing and uncertainty. "But Florence, what if... what if I hold you back? What if you regret staying with me?"

Florence's voice grew softer, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Regret is not a word I associate with you, Anthony. I believe in us, in our love, in our ability to overcome any obstacles. And if we never take this chance, we'll always wonder what could have been."

Silence settled between them, the weight of their unspoken fears and desires hanging heavily in the air.

With a heavy sigh, Florence turned away once again, her heart breaking with each step.

"Think about what you truly want, Anthony," she said, her voice filled with a quiet resolve. "And when you're ready to face your fears and trust in our love, I'll be waiting."

And with that, Florence walked away, leaving Anthony standing there, grappling with his doubts and the fear of losing the one person who had shown him a love he had never imagined possible.

Anthony sat on the edge of Ava's bed, his brows furrowed with concern. He took a deep breath, mustering the courage to address the issue that had been weighing on his mind.

Ava looked up at him, her big brown eyes filled with innocence and curiosity.

"Dada, why are you sad?" she asked, reaching out to touch his cheek gently.

Anthony's heart softened at the sight of his daughter's concern for him. He took Ava's tiny hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I'm not sad, love. I just... I wanted to talk to you about something important."

Ava tilted her head to the side, her brows knitting together in a small frown. "What is it, Dada? You can tell me anything."

Anthony smiled at her reassuringly. "You called Miss Flower 'Mama' earlier, didn't you?"

Ava's eyes widened, and she nodded shyly. "Yes, Dada. Miss Flower takes care of me like Mama does. She helps me with everything, and I love her."

Anthony's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions. He leaned in closer to Ava and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Ava, sweetheart, Miss Flower has been wonderful to both of us. But she's not your real mama. Mama is in heaven, watching over us."

Ava's expression grew solemn, and she nodded understandingly. "I know, Dada. But Miss Flower is like a mama to me now. She takes care of me and loves me. Can't she be my mama too?"

Anthony sighed, grappling with conflicting emotions. He took Ava's hands in his, looking into her eyes.

“I love Miss Flower, too, Ava. But sometimes, grown-ups get confused and don't know how to handle their feelings. It's complicated."

Ava's eyes sparkled with innocence as she responded, "But love isn't complicated, Dada. Love is when your heart feels warm and happy. And my heart feels warm and happy when Miss Flower is around."

Anthony's resolve wavered as he listened to Ava's simple wisdom. He leaned in closer, pulling Ava into a tight embrace.

"You're right, my little love. Love is not complicated. And if calling Miss Flower 'Mama' makes you happy, then I won't stand in the way

Ava beamed with joy, wrapping her tiny arms around her father's neck. "I love you, Dada! And I love Miss Flower as mama too!"

The next day, Florence woke up feeling a sense of emptiness that seemed to weigh heavily on her heart.

She stared blankly at the ceiling, lost in her thoughts, unsure of what to do next. The whole ordeal with Anthony had left her feeling emotionally drained and confused.

Downstairs, the Bridgerton family gathered for breakfast and tea, their usual cheerful banter subdued.

The air was thick with unspoken tension, and Florence's absence was impossible to ignore. Ava, always observant, looked around the room, her innocent voice breaking the silence.

"Where is Mama?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I want to breakfast with Mama."

The room fell into a silence so deafening that one could hear a pin drop. The siblings exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of sympathy and indignation.

Benedict couldn't resist the opportunity for a sarcastic remark.

"Well, Ava, your mama is currently busy being ignored by a certain foolish Viscount," he said, his tone dripping with bitterness.

Francesca chimed in, a touch of melancholy in her voice. "Yes, our dear brother seems to have a talent for causing pain to Miss Florence. It's quite impressive, really."

Hyacinth, with her usual naivety, added, "I suppose Anthony thought it would be a marvelous idea to push away the woman who brings light into our lives. How thoughtful of him."

Colin couldn't help but join in, his face contorted into an exaggerated expression of mock surprise. "Oh, look, Anthony managed to make a mess of things again. What a surprise!"

"Let's not be too hard on Anthony, though. It's not easy for him to comprehend what he has right in front of him." Daphne said

As the siblings continued their sarcastic remarks, their words carried a subtle message of support for Florence. They were mad at Anthony, and they made it clear in their own unique way.

Ava tilted her head and innocently asked, "Why would Papa ignore Mama? Doesn't he know she's the best?"

"Oh Ava, you see, some people just have a knack for ignoring the most wonderful things in life. It's quite a talent, really." Eloise, ever quick-witted, couldn't resist adding his own touch of humor to the conversation. He raised an eyebrow and replied

Ava blinked, processing his words before giving him a puzzled look. "But Mama is the most wonderful thing, Auntie El . How can Papa not see that?"

With a sigh, Florence finally emerged from her room, her eyes reflecting a mixture of sadness and determination.

She walked downstairs, her steps steady and resolute. As she entered the room, the siblings fell silent, their sarcastic banter giving way to a sense of solidarity.

Ava rushed to Florence's side, hugging her tightly. "Mama, you're here!"

Florence held Ava close, her voice filled with both tenderness and strength. "Yes, my darling, Mama is here”

Father, what have I done? How did I let everything fall apart?" Anthony stood before his father's grave, his usually composed demeanor crumbling under the weight of his emotions. Tears streamed down his face as he whispered brokenly,

In that vulnerable moment, Violet approached him Anthony, my dear son," she said softly, her voice filled with a mixture of compassion and strength. "Your father would be proud of the man you've become, but he would also want you to find happiness."

"But Mother I've pushed her away. I've hurt her so deeply," he choked out, his voice laden with regret.

Anthony turned his tear-stained face toward his mother, his eyes pleading for understanding

Violet's gaze softened as she looked into her son's anguished eyes. "You mustn't let go of Florence, Anthony," she gently admonished.

"She is a rare gem, a woman who has stood by your side, weathered the storms, and loved you unconditionally. Don't let your fear and pride blind you to what truly matters."

"But Mother I don't deserve her," he admitted, his voice filled with self-doubt.

“Anthony, my dear, love is not about deserving. It's about choosing to cherish and nurture what you hold dear. Florence is a remarkable woman who has captured your heart. Don't let her slip away because of your own doubts."

Anthony's shoulders sagged, his grief and guilt consuming him. "I've been a fool, Mother,” he confessed, his voice laced with sorrow. "I don't know if I can make things right."

Violet's grip tightened, her voice firm and resolute. "You can, my son. You have a chance to mend what has been broken. Open your heart, be vulnerable, and fight for the love you both share. Life is too short for regrets."

You have a second chance, Anthony," she whispered into his ear. "Don't let it slip away. Don't let go of Florence. Fight for her, my dear, and find solace in the love that can heal even the deepest wounds."

The evening settled with a heavy silence as Anthony mustered up the courage to approach Florence.

His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the weight of the words he needed to share, before everything else he knew that If Ava has addressed Florence as her mother she needs to know the one thing she deserves to know the most.

He found her sitting alone in the garden, her eyes cast downward, lost in her own thoughts.

"Florence," Anthony's voice trembled as he spoke her name, his tone filled with a mix of sorrow and vulnerability.

Florence looked up, her eyes meeting his, and there was a flicker of recognition and curiosity in her gaze.

"I need to tell you something," Anthony began, his voice barely above a whisper. He took a tentative step forward, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.

"Ava's birth mother... Victoria... she was my best friend."

Florence's brow furrowed in confusion, her eyes widening with realization. "Your best friend? But... I thought..."

"We were never in love, Florence. Our relationship was built on friendship and a physical connection, but it was never about love. We made the difficult decision to marry because of Ava." Anthony interrupted her, his voice cracking with emotion.

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, their implications sinking into the depths of Florence's understanding.

She tried to process the magnitude of what Anthony was revealing, the layers of grief and loss that he carried.

"I... I had no idea," Florence murmured, her voice laced with compassion. Her heart ached for the pain he had endured, the loss of not only a best friend but also the shattered dreams of a life they had planned together.

"We were meant to be parents together, to raise Ava as a family. But Victoria... she died during childbirth, and I lost not only my best friend but also the chance to build a life with her."Anthony's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he continued, his voice thick with sorrow

Florence reached out a hand, her fingers gently brushing against Anthony's, offering a silent comfort. The weight of his grief seemed to consume them both in that moment, their souls entwined in shared pain.

"I never wanted to burden you with this," Anthony admitted, his voice filled with regret. "But I needed you to understand, Florence. You are not a replacement for a mother , nor am I asking you to fill that void. You are your own person, and I fell in love with you because of who you are."

Tears streamed down Florence's face, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Anthony, I don't know what to say... I never realized the depth of your loss, the pain you've carried all this time."

Anthony took a step closer, his voice choked with emotion. "I've been so afraid of losing again, of losing you. But I can't let that fear control me any longer. Florence, I love you, and I want to build a future with you and Ava. Please, don't let my past mistakes and tragedies taint what we have."

Florence's heart swelled with a mix of compassion, understanding, and love. She reached out, embracing Anthony tightly, offering solace and reassurance. In that embrace, they found strength and a shared determination to heal together.

The Bridgerton family decided to have a friendly game of Pall Mall in the garden, with everyone excited to participate, including little Ava. Florence, who was usually composed and gentle, surprised everyone with her newfound competitiveness.

As they took their positions on the makeshift course, Colin couldn't help but smirk playfully at Florence. "Prepare yourself, Miss Flower. I must warn you, I am quite the Pall Mall expert."

Florence raised an eyebrow, her competitive spirit igniting. "Oh, is that so, Mr. Bridgerton? Well, you better be ready to face some fierce competition!"

Anthony chuckled, watching the exchange between Colin and Florence. Ava tugged on his coat sleeve and whispered loudly,

“Papa, I heard Mama say she has always been this competitive . You better not get on her bad side!"

Anthony stifled a laugh and whispered back, "You're right, darling. I've learned not to underestimate your mama's determination."

The game began, and Florence surprised everyone with her skilled shots and strategic moves.

Ava watched in awe as her mama skillfully navigated the ball through the course, all the while maintaining an air of grace and elegance.

At one point, Colin playfully exclaimed, "Miss Flower, are you sure you haven't been practicing in secret? Your skills are quite impressive!"

Florence smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, Mr. Bridgerton, a lady never reveals her secrets."

The game continued, and the competitiveness between Colin and Florence only intensified. They exchanged playful banter and teasing remarks as they vied for the win.

Meanwhile, the rest of the family watched with amusement and laughter. Eloise turned to Francesca and whispered, "I never knew Florence had such a competitive side!"

Francesca giggled. "Neither did I! It's quite entertaining to watch."

As the game reached its climax, Florence and Colin were neck and neck, and Ava couldn't contain her excitement. "Go, Mama! Go!" she cheered, clapping her hands enthusiastically.

As the game of Pall Mall came to a close and the family gathered on the field, Anthony's heart swelled with love for Florence.

The exhilaration of the game mixed with his deep affection for her, and he couldn't wait any longer to make his intentions known.

Taking a deep breath, Anthony stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Florence. With the gentle summer breeze rustling through the grass, he dropped down on one knee, holding her gaze.

"Florence," Anthony began, his voice filled with emotion, "from the moment I met you, you have brought light and laughter into my life. You have been a pillar of strength and a beacon of love, not just for me, but for Ava as well. You have shown us what it means to be a family."

Florence's eyes widened in surprise, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She placed a hand over her chest, unable to tear her gaze away from Anthony.

"I cannot imagine my life without you, Florence, I do not want to imagine my life without you”

Anthony continued, his voice steady but filled with vulnerability. "You have become an irreplaceable part of our lives, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days by your side. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

A gasp escaped Florence's lips, her eyes brimming with tears. The entire family watched in anticipation, holding their breath as they witnessed this heartfelt moment.

After a moment of silence, Florence's face broke into a radiant smile. Her eyes sparkled with joy and love as she nodded, unable to find her voice.

"Yes, Anthony," she finally managed to say, her voice filled with overwhelming emotion. "Yes, a thousand times yes! I would be honored to be your wife."

The family erupted into cheers and applause, their joy matching the elation shared between Anthony and Florence.

Anthony slipped a beautiful ring onto Florence's finger, sealing their commitment to one another.

Amidst the celebrations, Anthony and Florence embraced tightly, tears streaming down their faces. It was a moment of pure love and happiness.

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