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Stella of Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed Chapter 17: Blue Wildflowers (A Fix-It Fanfiction of The Essex Serpent)

Series Summary: The Essex Serpent is reimagined through the perspective of the saintly, sickly Vicar's Wife, Stella Ransome, giving her a new ending rather than her canon fate. A bildungsroman of Stella was raised to be a proper lady and married a handsome vicar Will Ransome. She did everything to be a perfect wife and to uphold his ministry. However, after receiving a fatal diagnosis, she learns her husband is having an affair. Her heartbreak, grief, and repressed anger are released. She finds hope, happiness, justice...and even revenge and new love.

Pairings: Stella Ransome x Male OC: Harry Cavaradossi, some Stella x Will Ransome but focusing on the angst of him cheating on her.

Prologue//One//Two//Three//Four//Five//Six//Seven//Eight//Nine//

Ten//Eleven//Twelve//Thirteen// Fourteen//Fifteen//Sixteen

Chapter Summary: The final chapter. Harry explains why he read the letters. Stella makes decisions regarding her past...and her future. There is a visitor by the name of Seaborne. A party brings back a memory absolved from past miseries into a happy present moment. And Stella, now content, finishes her tale.

Chapter Warnings: A super brief spicy scene towards the end, swearing, discussions of penises, bodily functions, marriage, death, children, and illness are discussed. Discussions of a Major Character Death (sorry not sorry Will Ransome girlies). Stella has PTSD, gets to actually mourn the affair, and becomes Eliza Hamilton for a minute. I get to shit talk both Will and Cora, so if you like the pairing of Will/Cora you have been warned. Religion is portrayed, esp towards the end. But LOTS of fluff and comfort in this chapter.

Chapter Word Count: 6K

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A/N: THANK YOU GUYS so much for following through with this series! It was very therapeutic to write. And thank you for following Stella on her journey! So now here is that eventual happy ending I promised! Enjoy! COMMENTS, KUDOS, ASKS, AND DMS ABOUT MY WORK ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED!

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, For they shall inherit the earth.”- Matthew 5: 3-5.

“Harry! What are you doing!” I cried, rushing forward.

He jumped up where he was but kept the papers in his hand. I curled my fists- every letter was sprawled across the desk! His pink lips began to mumble out an explanation as I saw the blood rush to his face.

“You’re home early…you wouldn’t be here for another hour and…”

“Why are you doing this? Why are you reading these!? I told you not to!” I cried again, gesturing to the papers.

He leaned forward, gaining resolve.

“Stella, I’m worried about you!” he replied.

I paused. He held onto the letters, keeping them to his chest. I noticed that the old journal I kept during my time in Aldwinter was also laid open on the desk as well. On the page were words I wrote upon hearing about the threat of the snake:

“He sent the serpent into Eden’s beflowered garden, and he sends it now and the penance must be paid…”

Oh, how little I knew then! If only I could have gone back in time and warned that lovestruck church girl of what would come from marrying that curate! Or that housewife so concerned about a snake devouring her children to make sure her vicar husband stayed away from widows!

“You’re worried about me?” I echoed to him.

“Since that night you saw me with a beard, I kept worrying about that look on your face, and I kept hearing you get out of bed to sob at night. I was concerned! I wanted to know more about what happened in Aldwinter and what happened between…between Will and…and…what was her name?”

He went through the papers to check again. Taking in a shaky breath, I walked towards his chair and clutched onto it to steady myself. I hadn’t said her name out loud in a long, long time.

“Cora…her name was Cora Seaborne…that was William’s lover,” I answered softly.

I found that though I spoke her name, I didn’t die on the spot and despite the unpleasant, anxious feelings inside me, I was still very safe. She was just a word spoken and dissolved into air.

Cora was a person, not a monster, I reminded myself. A person as I am a person. We both had blonde hair. We both were mothers. We lived in Aldwinter. We loved William. We both became widows. We both have hopes, dreams, fears, and dreads. We both committed cardinal sins.

Harry continued; his forehead knotted in anguish.

“I wanted to know what happened between Will and Cora to hurt you like this…So I’d know…I’d know…how best to comfort you. How to be the husband Will never was to you…”

I let out a sigh as I picked up one letter from them.

“I used to think and wonder at that time what sin we did to bring forth the Serpent in our town…now I wonder what on earth I did to have this happen to me…” I commented.

“You did nothing wrong, Stella. Cora and William did something wrong…the blame is entirely theirs, not you…” Harry assured.

I looked down at one page. It was a draft of a letter kept praising Cora about how she lit up Will’s soul and left him speechless and filled with longing.

“I’d try to convince myself not to be jealous of her, try to tell myself I wasn’t… All that changed when I saw them at the tree…I will always be second to Cora. Worse than her. Inferior. And that was why Will strayed….” I replied.

A bitter and petty phrase was on the tip of my tongue. The sound of her name- Cora- the first syllable rhymes with the word “whore.” But that was going too far, even for me (a murderess!). I forced my lips tightly shut until the temptation to connect her name to the word faded away.

Harry got up and offered me the chair, which I sat on. He went to the hall and asked the housekeeper to bring some tea and sweets, then returned. A tear dripped down my chin. Harry gave me his handkerchief.

“How many of their letters did you read?” I asked him.

“All, I think. And a little of the journal.”

“What do you think- not as my husband now, but as someone neutral to the case- what do you think? Of them?” I asked.

Harry looked down at one letter and then let out a scoff, looking back at me.

“Honestly, what n’er do wells!” he replied.

“What?!” I gasped.

He picked up two letters, gesticulating with them with both hands.

“Will and Cora- I haven’t read interactions between two people more self-obsessed and obnoxious!” he snarled.

“Really?” I asked softly.

“Yes, really! Must this woman- Cora- drag every person she met into the mess of her life!? She and Will did nothing! Nothing but ruin everyone else’s life!”

“Mine included…” I prodded.

“Yours worst of all!” Harry agreed.

He then picked up another letter.

“Here she is talking of all the research she did around the town- how would her little hobby help anyone? She could have found ways to trap or kill it. She could have tried to find ways one could protect oneself and educate the folk frightened for their lives. And the family of the girl who went missing-What of her parents? Or the other victim’s families- William could have made tithes to help them. He could have comforted and prayed with them. Will and Cora could have done anything productive but walk around outside, bantering about science and faith and swooning over each other!”

“She told me it was love when I asked her about it,” I informed him.

“If she did love him, she would let him be with his wife and let him go!” he ranted.

“And what do you think of her…is Cora better than me…I thought because she was always so much more…more spirited and… if I was only more like her, Will wouldn't have…never have… Is she truly better?” I asked gingerly.

Harry lowered the letters and folded his arms.

“Well, if you were in her place and a woman’s husband declared his love for you, a woman who had tuberculosis and was likely to die…if you knew without a doubt, he was married to this lady- would you say yes to him?” Harry asked.

“Of course not! Never!” I cried.

He shrugged upwards and his thin, pink lips curved to smile at me.

“Yes, there is a difference between you two! You are selfless, and she is selfish. That is what selfish people do. Hurt others without thinking of it. Therefore, you are better than her…do not compare yourself to this Cora Seaborne. my dear. You are my light and my warmth. What is a candle to a star, hm? Or a coral shell by the sea to the Milky way or the constellations?” he said.

He kissed the top of my head.

“When you met her, what else happened?” he asked.

“I threatened that I’d shoot her if I ever saw her again.”

He patted my shoulder in congratulations.

“Good! Remind me later and I’ll lend you one of my old soldier pistols. If you won’t hurt yourself, you have my blessing to fight back and avenge yourself.” He said sincerely.

I nodded my head.

He then leaned against the desk. He checked to make sure the housekeeper was not around and then leaned to me to speak quietly.

“It seems if there was an Essex Serpent, it was Will’s cock…”

“Harry!”

“It’s true! The only Serpent that one needed to fear was the one between his legs! That was the real god Will was a priest of- his own cock! And Cora was the priestess, and you were the lamb at the altar…” he elaborated.

He brought out an arm and slithered it through the air as a snake does in the grass.

“Can you imagine Will’s cock slithering around Essex like a snake? A giant cock hissing? SSSSSSSS!” he teased.

“I don’t know what would horrify me more- a giant snake or a giant penis slithering about!” I replied quietly.

I couldn’t resist a smile and put a hand over my mouth as I began to chuckle. Soon we both were crying and guffawing with aching bellies, howling with laughter at the obscene metaphor.

“But you are no sacrifice here…” Harry said, bending a knee to look me in the eye.

“Then what am I?” I asked.

He clutched both of my hands as he knelt.

“Goddess divine, of course,” he declared.

I put my hand on my chest in reaction and felt a blush creep up my cheeks. He kissed my hands tenderly.

“I wanted to understand all that happened. And now I do…can you forgive me, my love?” he asked.

“I forgive you, Harry…”

“I only hope I…I will be better, a better man and husband for you.”

Looking over at a corner, there was a table where there stood an empty wine bottle. He sighed.

“Who did you even marry? You deserve a knight in shining armor, Stella, not some drunken fool…” he sighed.

“You’re not that! Well, you still drink a bit much, but you are no fool. You are my knight in shining armor, Harry, my dear!”

With a surprise, he pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around me.

“Then give your knight a kiss.”

We kissed once when the housekeeper walked in with tea and slices of cake. They were drunk and devoured, but the letters remained.

“What should we do with these?” Harry asked.

I got up from his lap. I began to gather the letters. One by one, and then into one neat pile. Anger began to burn again in my throat.

“We could give them to the children when they grow up. Let Will’s legacy be that how he humiliated their mother…” I spat, feeling my grip tighten.

“And carry the blame for their father’s actions? And sour any of the good memories and feelings they may feel for him- he was their first father, after all. And what if they discover the truth of how he died…then how sympathetic shall they think of you? Besides, Stella…I don’t think Will Ransome should be a part of our marriage. It’s a joining of two souls, not three.” Harry suggested.

I glanced down and released my breath.

“You’re right…I could…I could send the rest of them to the church back in Aldwinter…ruin his legacy after death!” I said bitterly.

“And have your whole family be blacklisted and frowned upon for one man’s sins? How will your children live when their father’s actions have condemned their whole future? And if they notice the similarities between your possession of those letters and the suicide scrap by Will’s corpse that time ago and connect the pieces…you would be practically tossing yourself into a jail cell, Stella.”

“Oh God, I’m a selfish, petty, person….” I lamented.

“You’re a human, Stella…” he reminded me.

We paused. He placed a hand on my shoulder. When we looked up, he gestured to the little lamp on the desk. On the inside was a lit candle.

“I think you know what to do,” Harry advised.

“I think it’s time…I kept these for when they would be useful. To have others believe me. To see those guilty punished. And then to free myself…” I mused.

Harry half smiled. He pointed to the second page of one letter where Will signed his full name.

“Ah- you were held prisoner by Mr. Ransome and in need of a ransom- and it seemed you ransomed yourself out of being a Ransome!” he teased.

“I’m not a Ransome in name or the word…I’m a Cavaradossi now…”

I let out a little chuckle at the string of puns. Then I filed them all into one pile. But Harry slipped his hand and took the first page.

“Let me have this one.”

“What do you need that for?” I asked.

“I need to wipe when I relieve my piss or shit!” he said.

I let out a laugh.

“I’m ready now…I’m ready to do this…” I said half to Harry and half to myself.

I went into our room to our fireplace, carrying the letters. I got the matches on the mantle and struck one until a little flame emerged from it. I then put the match to one page of Will and Cora’s letters. I watched as it curled up black, their words and banter and love confessions and declarations bleeding into darkness. Before the flame would reach my fingers, I tossed it into the fireplace. One by one I burned each page and placed them into the fireplace.

Yes, I was dying. But William, you are dead. I thought. I still have life in me, fragile as it was. And now you have none, Will. None, none, nothing.

The flames kissed and danced over the pages. It digested their words so full of selfish lust and then made it a black crumple of dust at the bottom of the fire. Again, I saw the small blueness in the center of the flames.

I watched as I destroyed each last page. They burned and then dwindled to nothing but dust.

Now any trace of William Ransome, my Will, the true Essex Serpent, was gone. I walked with lightness and slept like a babe at night. And Harry kept his promise- I had a small but loaded pistol hidden in my purse. Ready to make good my promise to Cora if I were to ever see her again.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ Though I was glad to continue life as normal, the London smog did not agree with me. It made me cough furiously while walking outside for errands. The doctor’s words haunted me.

“Get some clean air.”

One evening, after the children were in their rooms for their post-dinner hobbies, Harry and I sat down by the fire for him to read and me to sew. The dog laid down on the floor to nap, though his dark brown fur almost made him blend into it. After ten minutes, I set aside the needle and thread and looked at him.

“Harold…can we please see a doctor? The fog is getting to me. I can hardly walk for coughing…” I explained.

He set down his book.

“Any blood?”

“Rarely.”

“Then…then who says we have to live in London?” he suggested.

“What…what about your bank? Or your parties!? Or your plays?!” I asked.

He shrugged them off.

“I can throw them here! I can always travel to London if there’s a show I want to see. And I’m head of the bank- I can move headquarters. We could find a place just outside of London…would you like that? The children will understand- your health improved because of the clean mountain air. They’ll much prefer you alive and well.”

“Then by all means…let us move…”

After some searching, we found a lovely place in Kersey, Suffolk. We packed and gathered our things and moved out. A local building chosen as headquarters for the Cavaradossi bank thought the branch in London remained open. It was a comfortable cottage for all of us. A tree grew outside and stretched its branches out like a greeting friend. And there was fresh air- beautiful, bright fresh air. I loved taking a deep breath once I stepped outside. The air was crisp with winter and a light dusting of snow.

On our first day in the new place, once the boxes were set down, our faithful spaniel wagged his tail as he wandered in and out to the backyard to run about- he was far more used to being a country dog. Harry wrapped his arm around me.

“So help me, you will get all the exercise and fresh air in the world, Stella. We will walk daily- you can have a garden in the springtime. We might even try hiking if the path isn’t too steep- all of us as a family! Oh! And the lakes! We must try rowing- you a little bit! You’ll feel like new as if you were never sick again!”

Though it hadn’t and would never leave my body, I could walk about more, even if I was slower or more fragile. I coughed blood even less. I had more appetite. Only on the rare occasions, I felt myself a little dizzy while walking or a brief pain in my chest, I would use a cane. But only rarely. And of course, that first spring, I planted seeds to become a garden.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ It was seven years after my diagnosis on a Sunday when we had a visitor. The housekeeper we had approached Harry and me as we sat on our chairs.

“Excuse me, there’s a Seaborne at the door!” She announced.

I froze where I sat. I reached for Harry’s hand who clutched mine in return. I felt the color drain from my face. I wondered how quickly I could get out the pistol from my purse.

“Is it a Mrs. Seaborne?” I asked.

“No! It’s a gentleman…a very young gentleman, a Mr. Seaborne.” She corrected.

Harry and I stared at each other dumbfounded.

“Let him in,” I said.

I stood up, clutching the shawl on my shoulders.

In walked that same pale face but matured. His body was still thin but far taller. I felt myself relax seeing him, saying that old cliché that has been used before and will be used again:

“My, how you’ve grown!”

Frankie, in a nice black suit and cravat, tipped off his hat.

“Mrs. Ransome, hello! I wrote to Martha and Fanny and heard you now lived here and you…you remarried, is that right?” he asked, though his eyes darted distractedly to look around the living room.

“Yes, Frankie, I am. I’m Stella Cavaradossi now. Here is my husband- Mr. Harold Cavaradossi.”

Harry walked forward and shook hands with the young man.

“Please stay- I think you’re in time for tea!” I suggested.

He sat down at the table in the kitchen with us. His eyes flitted about, but his voice was addressed to me as he poured milk into his tea.

“It’s odd not thinking of you as Mrs. Ransome…” he commented.

“It’s odd for me too…Frankie, what brings you here?” I asked.

“I just…I worried about you. For years. I…I thought…I even wondered if you were dead…” he confessed.

“Well, she is not. Clearly.” Harry cut in.

“I just was worried, I felt…I felt bad for you. I…I didn’t know how to feel about Mama and…I was angry at you for that letter, at first, but I’m not…not angry anymore. Mrs. Ran- Mrs.-Cava….Cava- ra….“

“You can call me Stella…” I advised.

“Are you happy, Stella?” Frankie asked me. His eyes, so much like hers, softened.

I smiled at the young man.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you’re in good health- I felt so bad for you back then. All stuck in that bed, coughing that blood. How’d you get better?” he asked.

“I was sent to a Sanatorium. They didn’t cure me, but they helped me, Frankie. And you? How have you been?”

He paused hesitantly and I froze.

“I…I live in a flat now with roommates. I go to University now and…and…I’m not on speaking terms with mama as much anymore…only on occasion,” he sighed. He sipped his tea meditatively.

“But Stella…I cannot be mad at you at all now. I remember the old days when I was in Aldwinter. Of all those adults there, you didn’t fuss at me for something I couldn’t help…you made bread. You welcomed me to the town. You let me play with your children. You made me dinner and sweets- I can still taste those chocolate biscuits! I always remembered, Stella. I never forgot your kindness.”

I felt a few tears on verge of showing, but I blinked back.

Despite his small oddities, he was wonderful company. Harry enjoyed him even. Before Frankie departed, I got some scraps of paper and wrote down an address and then a recipe.

“Frankie…you may write and visit any time you like. Come visit when James - he’d be thrilled! He’s with his brother seeing Joanna at her college today, else they’d be here!”

I then showed him the recipe.

“This is how you make those chocolate biscuits if you’d like,” I explained.

He put it in his pocket.

“Of course! And thank you for the tea as well!” he wished with a smile.

As he put his hat on, tipped it, and left, I crossed my arms. I was tearing up, but I was also smiling watching him go to his taxi. I was glad I didn’t kill that boy out of my rage. My anger did not sniff out the life of an innocent, only the guilty. And here Frankie was, like a flower in full bloom. I went out to the garden and began to cry again. But they were tears of immense relief.

From then on, Frankie was like another son to me. He regularly wrote and even visited when he could. I like to think he saw me as a second mother. Though he was wise enough to never speak of his own to me.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬ There was one party we were throwing two weeks later. Harry’s favorite wine was flowing, and the guests were all laughing and socializing among themselves, including some of my own family members and of course my children. We finished our dinner and two friends who played violin and piano were warming up for dances.

But as it began and guests paired up on the wider floor of our room, I felt dizzy and a slight pain in my chest. I coughed, noticing only a little blood on my handkerchief. I then dashed upstairs. I sat down on the chair. I didn’t feel completely weak, but I was taken aback my heart racing. There was the sound of footsteps and the bedroom door creaked open.

“Stella, are you alright?” Harold asked, poking his head through.

My blood froze when he stepped in, and I took in his tuxedo from the party. It continued downstairs. And beyond, there was music.

Oh, dear God, this again! I saw this scene before, and I didn’t like how things ended up. Here again was my husband in a tuxedo, me feeling bad, and a party with dancing going on. My eyes started up, dreading seeing William’s beard, dreading reliving that moment in Aldwinter…

But there was no beard on my husband’s cleanly shaven chin this time. This wasn’t the past anymore.

“I am…I just coughed a little blood and got scared, but I feel alright…” I explained.

I heard the music and some clapping and chatter going on. Even my children’s laughter.

“Do you feel well, Stella? I’ll call the party off early if you like…” he offered.

“No, don’t! it’s just…it’s just…and you with your suit I…I just…” I muttered.

I sighed deeply and wiped away the tears with my handkerchief. I saw Harry’s shoulders soften.

“Harry…I don’t know if I will get better or get worse but for tonight…tonight you won’t leave me, will you?” I asked.

He stepped forward and touched my shoulder softly.

“Oh, of course not, Stella…” he vowed.

“Hold me, Harry,” I requested.

He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. Anything, anything, I would change this- the past would not repeat itself again. Not with me.

“Is the dancing starting?” I asked.

“Yes, it is! The first one is ending- the waltz is next…” he recalled.

“Harry…I haven’t danced in a long, long time. I’d like to try and dance again…could you dance with me?”

He led me to stand.

“You only need to ask.” He responded.

As we headed to the hall, he draped his arm around mine. Then I looked at him and stopped my feet, I leaned closer to talk to him while we were still alone.

“I don't speak much of Will anymore, I try not to…I don’t want to bring him into this marriage, but I will be honest. This scene… reminded me of a memory I had with him. Do you remember me telling you about when I told him to dance with Cora?”

“Oh god, I remember now. I almost forgot…so you think that will happen again?” He puzzled.

I nodded. Harry cupped my cheek, keeping his other hand on mine.

“Stella, for each hour of your tears, I’ll replace it with an hour of happiness. I’ll take each moment of anguish and create ways to make you laugh. For each minute you felt unloved by him, I will make you feel worshipped. And if anyone, even you, tells me to dance with some other lady, I’ll refuse and dance with you instead.…”

We pressed our foreheads together, feeling the warmth and smoothness. I felt my tears had dried and I was smiling.

“Let’s dance, Harry,” I said.

We went into the main room, all cleared out. John already had one young lady as a partner on the floor. Joanna stopped her chatter among her new circle of friends to watch and James was watching as he sat, a plate of chocolate cake on his lap. Their eyes were on me, seeing if I was well enough. If I would fall or faint in dancing. Harry placed a hand around my waist, and I took his free hand in mine, our fingers intertwining. I kept a hand on his warm back. The violin and piano duo began playing. The waltz began.

We waltzed at a steady pace. I stepped into that square formation. He met mine with equality. His feet never once grazed my toes. I was keeping up without feeling breathless, weak, and with no pain or urge to cough. There was only dizziness as the crowd turned into a blur around us. I felt the warmth of his hand and Harry smiled the kindest, gentlest, most loving smile I had seen on a man, on a husband, on a person. And I returned it. I focused on his eyes as the music swelled as if giving us wings so we could fly up to the heavens and the clouds and stars themselves. Time itself stopped and there was only us as we moved together. The only feeling surging in my chest was that of joy.

Then finally, the song ended, and we paused. We clapped our hands in thanks. I glanced to see my children all looking at me with cheerful relief. When I looked back at Harry, he smiled and kept an arm around my back.

“You’re a wonderful dancer Stella, we should do this hourly,” he praised with a wink.

“Let’s drink some lemonade and then have another dance then!” I responded.

▬▬ι══════════════ι▬▬

As I write this, I have been married to Harold Cavaradossi for about ten years. Eleven years after I heard I was dying.

Harry was, is, and will be faithful to me. I know this with confidence. If there was something that needed novelty or something he lacked, something that he felt was wrong with me, he would tell me directly, his heart and eyes never wandering from mine.

I have seen the nineteenth century become the twentieth. I have lived to see Forty and past it, I may turn fifty if this keeps up. I have seen all three of my children grow up and become adults themselves.

Joanna has gone to a woman’s college, relieved it didn’t just teach women domestic arts but academic ones. She moved to London and has embraced the idea of the New Woman- she even has a suit complete with pants she enjoys wearing when she bikes. She works as a nurse for her income. She regularly writes to parliament insisting on a woman’s right to divorce her husband and does so all while she puts curls in her hair.

John is set to inherit the seniority of the Cavaradossi bank from his stepfather. He always hides sausages and treats in his pockets to spoil any dog he comes across. After schooling, he works alongside his father fervently at the bank. He is courting a young lady he is deeply in love with and intent on proposing. We are confident she will accept. To think I may live to see him married and perhaps as a grandmother!

James has grown so handsome that I often see young ladies eyeing him and he enjoys a good dance or flirtation. He enjoys reading books on theology and philosophy and shall debate them among his peers for hours, sometimes even going to church to discuss with the rectors themselves about their sermons. Though he is yet undecided as to what vocation he shall use for his life’s work, Harry tells him not to fret and to choose off on passion. He still has a weakness for chocolate and cannot resist sneaking bites of it during his classes.

I will indulge you with a glimpse into my private life in the marriage bed. It made the moment even more perfect; I think.

This morning, my husband, Harry, pleasured me in our bed. I felt the rise and bliss of that release as I repeated his name like a prayer. I went to heaven in that bed and floated down from it. We caught our breath. He removed his hand from my skirt, wiped it on the mattress, and held me close, our noses touching.

“Happy Anniversary, Stella.” He wished.

“Happy Anniversary, Harry,” I repeated softly.

I kissed the tip of his nose, his face bright red and scrunched with smiling. I reached a hand to play with his curls.

“How’s the loveliest lady in England today, hm? Not sick of me yet?” he asked.

“After ten years not yet…” I answered.

I placed both of my hands on his warm, solid chest as he stretched out, arms folded under his head. I then rested my chin on him as I looked up at his handsome face.

“Tell me the story about your adventures at sea…” I requested.

“I’ve already told that one hundreds of times!” he laughed.

“I don’t care, I like to hear it…let me hear it all, Harry, I’ll listen...especially the part about seeing the dolphins!”

He smoothed my hair as he told me about his time at sea. We hardly notice the hour pass by except for the sun slowly rising. I rose halfway in surprise, my stomach rumbling.

“I am hungry though…could we eat outside?” I requested.

Harry agreed. We dressed quickly and simply. I made sure my cane was right outside the front door, should the occasional bout of dizziness happen. Or a vision. Some say tuberculosis brings visions in a later stage but so far, they have been few and far between. I still have life in me yet and I’m determined to enjoy it. No matter how much time I have left.

We gathered our food in a picnic basket, held a blanket, and walked outside. I have a whole garden filled with flowers with as many blue ones as I could find seeds for. There is an apple tree in our front yard. Harry draped the blanket right under the tree, yet close enough that one could smell the flowers of both the garden and the apple blossoms of the tree.

Once we finished the meal, he at once grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to lay down on the blanket with him. He drowned me in kisses, and I giggled as if I was just an adolescent. I even felt one of his hands reach up to touch my thigh beneath my skirt.

“Harold! We’re outside! Our neighbors could see us!” I teased.

I saw his face, and just over the green leaves shuffling with the wind blowing through them. The sun alighting his blonde curls like a halo.

“Let them! Let them all see how much I love you, Stella…”

He kissed me with tongue and passion, tasting our meal again. We saw birds fly into the branches. They were singing their own songs and had twigs in their beaks. Soon there would be nests and eggs and chicks- new life. According to Fanny’s letters, Vincent said that the name of “Aldwinter” translated from German to English as “Old Winter”. Not here in Kersey where it was warm and so full of the promise of spring and life.

When I turned, right near the tree trunk among the grass, I found a little blue wildflower. I picked it up and bedecked it into one of Harry’s curls. He took my hand to kiss each of my knuckles and we melted into each other’s arms again beneath the shade and sunlight.

I know my time will come. And very, very likely, the consumption shall have that inevitable victory. But after such betrayal, such heartbreak, such tears, and rage …I was so at peace and happy that if I died at that moment, I thought, I wouldn’t have complained. I would finally be able to say I was content with my life.

I hope you too, no matter what may happen to you, no matter what betrayals you face or heartbreaks are forced upon you, no matter what struggles or hardships you have, you have strength. If I could, so could you. I pray that when you encounter someone like my first husband, when you find your Serpent, you stand up to him and tell him no. That you find someone like Harry or Fanny, or Mrs. Lee or Martha or the other Aldwinter ladies - someone to listen, to help, to love you and for you to love them. Or even perhaps fight for you- should the time arise- if you cannot fight for yourself.

May you go outside and if it is dark, try to find stars shining above you. Think of my name. Think of me. So, you will remember me and see that light in all the darkness and burning strong in a ball of fire, triumphant.

If it is light outside, go out and try to find a blue wildflower. Blue itself is a rare color in nature, so look very carefully. And once you find one, may you see it and be filled with that heaven-like tranquility and grace. If you like, you can try to press it. Or pluck it. Or leave it as it is and admire it before you continue your way. In a way, it’s like a piece of me watching over you, my dear reader.

For even amidst the deepest misery, as I have experienced, there are those who love us and who have yet to love us. There is life continuing without giving up. After we mourn, there is the eventual promise that one day, we will find the joy of being alive again.

I thank you so much for reading my words and hearing my story, whoever you are. Reader, I do not know your faith, but I will finish this with a prayer for your blessing. After all, you should know by now I am a woman of the Church of England.

Reader, may you be blessed. May you have hope and strength as a star or a blue wildflower. Because you have listened to me, may you be as listened to and come through your own challenges, as I have. Lord graciously hear us.

Reader, if you are one of my fellow betrayed spouses or lovers, I ask for heaven to bless you immensely. I am with you, holding your hand as you mourn and weep and rage. You are absolved, for you are the true innocents suffering from the sins of another. Lord, graciously hear us.

Even if you are not, Reader, may you reading this always ask for justice and find it, as I did. May you ask for love and find it again, as I did. May you always possess courage, as I learned to. Lord graciously hear us.

Your friend, Stella Harris Ransome Cavaradossi, wishes you the best as we depart for now.

I commend you, I commend you, I commend you all to mercy and protection.

Amen.

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lalsingh228-blog · 3 months

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Aerospace Electronics Market Analysis and Forecast For Next 5 Years

The Latest research coverage on Aerospace Electronics Market provides a detailed overview and accurate market size. The study is designed considering current and historical trends, market development and business strategies taken up by leaders and new industry players entering the market. Furthermore, study includes an in-depth analysis of global and regional markets along with country level market size breakdown to identify potential gaps and opportunities to better investigate market status, development activity, value and growth patterns. Access Sample Report + All Related Graphs & Charts @: https://www.advancemarketanalytics.com/sample-report/87610-global-aerospace-electronics-market

Major & Emerging Players in Aerospace Electronics Market:- Boeing (United States), Airbus SE (Netherlands), Lockheed Martin Corporation (United States), United Technologies Corporation (United States), GE Aviation (United States), Northrop Grumman Corporation (United States), BAE Systems plc (United Kingdom), Rolls-Roye-Holdings plc (United Kingdom). The Aerospace Electronics Market Study by AMA Research gives an essential tool and source to Industry stakeholders to figure out the market and other fundamental technicalities, covering growth, opportunities, competitive scenarios, and key trends in the Aerospace Electronics market. Aerospace is the human effort in science, engineering, and business to fly in the atmosphere of Earth (aeronautics) and surrounding space (astronautics). There is an organization Dedicated to aerospace which research, design, manufacture, operate, or maintain aircraft or spacecraft. Aerospace Electronics deals with electronics and systems for the military and aerospace industries, like radar, secure communications equipment, and military and commercial satellites. Technological advancement and rising investment in the Aerospace Industry are driving the Global Aerospace Electronics market. The titled segments and sub-section of the market are illuminated below: by Type (Radar Test Systems, Battery Products, Electronic Safety Products (ESP), RF and Microwave, Other), Application (Commercial Aerospace, Military Aerospace), End users (Engineering/Aeronautics, Engine, Avionics, Inflight Entertainment, Other), Marketing Channel (Direct Marketing, Indirect Marketing) Market Trends: The IEEE Aerospace and Electronic Systems Society (AESS) Focused On the Advancement of Integrated Electronic Systems And Large-Scale Integrated Interoperable Systems

Opportunities: High R & D Investment in Aerospace Industry

Market Drivers: Increased Use of GPS to Enhance Flight Efficiency

Large-Scale Integrated Interoperable Systems

High Demand for Aerospace Electronics

Challenges: High Maintenance is Required for the Aerospace Electronics Equipments Enquire for customization in Report @: https://www.advancemarketanalytics.com/enquiry-before-buy/87610-global-aerospace-electronics-market Some Point of Table of Content: Chapter One: Report Overview Chapter Two: Global Market Growth Trends Chapter Three: Value Chain of Aerospace Electronics Market Chapter Four: Players Profiles Chapter Five: Global Aerospace Electronics Market Analysis by Regions Chapter Six: North America Aerospace Electronics Market Analysis by Countries Chapter Seven: Europe Aerospace Electronics Market Analysis by Countries Chapter Eight: Asia-Pacific Aerospace Electronics Market Analysis by Countries Chapter Nine: Middle East and Africa Aerospace Electronics Market Analysis by Countries Chapter Ten: South America Aerospace Electronics Market Analysis by Countries Chapter Eleven: Global Aerospace Electronics Market Segment by Types Chapter Twelve: Global Aerospace Electronics Market Segment by Applications What are the market factors that are explained in the Aerospace Electronics Market report?

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#Global Aerospace Electronics Market #Aerospace Electronics Market Demand #Aerospace Electronics Market Trends #Aerospace Electronics Market Analysis #Aerospace Electronics Market Growth #Aerospace Electronics Market Share #Aerospace Electronics Market Forecast #Aerospace Electronics Market Challenges

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nekkodiaries · 2 years

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"i know i said goodbye, and baby you said it too. but when i touch her, i feel like i'm cheating on you." — charlie puth, cheating on you.

summary: sunghoon was fine, or at least that was what he kept telling himself for the past years. he didn't expect everything to come crashing down after his friend ni-ki fawns to him over lilac, a famous youtuber, and the same girl he ghosted two years ago.

pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader, heesung x fem!reader.

genres: social media au, fuckboy!sunghoon, vlogger!reader, exes(?) to lovers, friends to lovers, college au, fluff, angst, perhaps some smut, mutual pining (?) idk.

warnings: cursing, mention of death (as jokes), underage drinking, cheating(?), sexual jokes, sexual ~ activity ~, lame internet humor because i'm a hag, idk what else, let me know if i missed anything.

status: on-going. | taglist: CLOSED.

updates schedule: mondays, wednesdays & fridays @ 6PM, GMT+8 time.

a/n: this smau will feature some of my current 4th gen groups, (esp skz bc i luv my bbs), ages will be adjusted to fit the story (not drastically), i will be using different faceclaims to support the story but will use mainly ulzzangs like sooviin and/or other idols when needed.

chapters with | ✏️ beside the chapter name will included written stories!

please note that this story is fictional and does not reflect on the artists' actual personality.

profiles — vlog squad. ♡ the boyz.

prologue — cheating on you.

one — ON THE SAME BED

two — beep 🤖 beep 🤖

three — touch sum grass | ✏️

four — heart ❤️ been broke 💔🤕 so many times ⏰

five — mf i will PUNCH you

six — lilac's live. 💐

seven — man whore

eight — optimus Fine. 😍

nine — all my homies hate heeseung ‼️

ten — to the highest level of giving 📢

eleven — disappointed but not surprised.

twelve — hol awn,, | ✏️

thirteen — #CancelMornings

fourteen — air fry?

fifteen — smells like 🧢

sixteen — down terrible

seventeen — chopped liver

eighteen — welcome home cheater

nineteen — excuze moí?

twenty — 🅱️ussy game

twenty one — it IS simp szn | ✏️

twenty two — oh lord, he's stupid

twenty three — my heart's going ✨💖💥💕💗

twenty four — single father of two

twenty five — haha don't worry abt it 😁

twenty six — suchpichous.

twenty seven — something seems v sus

twenty eight — devil's avocado

twenty nine — i smell jealousy ✨

thirty — BACKHANDED COMPLIMENTS 😍🥰

thirty one — WRONG GC YOU IDIOT

thirty two — got a crush on me?

—

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tobiosmilktea · 4 years

Text

the love club — miya atsumu

— IN WHICH atsumu miya finds himself getting love advice from a popular instagram hotline after getting dumped on his one-year anniversary. it just so happens that you’re the one having to deal with his bullshit

taglist: (closed)

a/n: i cant believe many people actually liked number neighbor so here’s another smau! i always wanted to do a hotline plot but i feel like it’s been overdone esp in smau, but fuck it imma do it anyway ✋🏻😌

pairing: atsumu x f!reader

genre/s: social media au, enemies to lovers, fluff, crack, angst

warning/s: lots of swearing, suggestive themes, pretty cringey ngl

CHAPTERS

zero — introduction

one — lemon macarons

two — lose some

three — welcome to the love club

four — close calls

five — lose some more

six — a different approach

seven — tag along

eight — since when?

nine — moon, 1:04am

ten — eye for an eye (wc)

eleven — can i call you tonight?

twelve — simp card

thirteen — cafe nights

fourteen — to late night travels (wc)

fifteen — twitter do your thing

sixteen — asking for a friend (wc)

seventeen — just the two of us

eighteen — an opposite date

nineteen — remember me?

twenty — red flags

twenty one — temporary nothing (wc)

twenty two — oil on water

twenty three — the fox and the owl

twenty four — growing pains

twenty five — catch-22

twenty six — the spectacular now

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu smau #atsumu miya #atsumu smau #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #atsumu scenarios #atsumu headcanons #atsumu imagines

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years

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Verboten - Chapter Twenty One.

A warm welcome to my new readers, thrilled to have you on board! Thank you to everyone for your continued interest, too! :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty

Visuals - The Verboten cast of characters post

Words - 3,887

Warnings - Smut!

Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :)

“Wow, it’s morning and you’re here,” Zoey mumbled, Tyler curling around her, kissing her back as he tightened his arm over her waist, murmuring sleepily until he felt awake enough to reply.

“And neither of us has anywhere to be either. I felt great when I woke up, those fleeting moments before my brain engaged and I remembered why I’m here, but we’re gonna have enough of that to deal with from external forces. When it’s just you and me, let’s just be happy, hmm? We’ve felt bad for long enough about it, I don’t want all of this negativity to impact our relationship.”

“That’s very poignant for five past seven, Tyler.” He laughed at words, tickling her until she squealed. “You’re right, though. Like yeah, we know all of this is our fault, but I don’t want us to be miserable. We’ll have enough of that coming at us as all of this unfolds. Selfish as it is, we’ve got what we wanted. We might as well at least try and be happy,” she confirmed, reaching for her water bottle, rinsing her mouth, Tyler doing the same before she received plentiful morning kisses.

“Well, in the spirit of being happy.” Hitching up her nightie, he pulled her leg to rest over his hip, slipping his fingers into her mouth. “Get ‘em nice and wet, baby.” Just being told that made her tingle, sucking on the thick digits that made her insides throb, Tyler replacing them for his tongue, their kisses heating up as he began to rub her folds.

Stroking his face as they kissed, she shuddered against the fingertips evoking tingles as they circled her clit, Zoey thinking to herself that this was the very first time she’d get to enjoy Tyler being all hers. ‘He’s mine, my boyfriend.’ The thrill of wanting someone she knew was off limits was now replaced by the thrill of knowing they could finally be together.

“Ahhh, fuck!” She exclaimed, his mouth slipping to her neck, tongue dragging the column of her throat as he pressed his fingers inside her, seeking her spots, pressing hard where he knew he’d make her see stars. He burrowed into her, circling, hooking, raking her soft plush, her core tightening, his fingers becoming more slippery as he began slowly dragging her walls.

“I love how wet you always get for me, baby. Fuck, you feel amazing.” He breathed, his mouth closing over her nipple, a gruff groan rattling his throat.

“Yeah, you do. Love feeling my drenched little pussy flexing on your giant cock, don’t you? Fuck, I want you to pin me down and fill me so badly.” Arousal arrowed right to his loins at hearing her tell him that, whispering that she was a temptress as he shifted between her thighs and entered her with a sweeping thrust.

Taking both of her wrists in one of his big hands, he held her arms above her head, pinning her to the bed as she’d requested, the other gently clutching her face as he kissed her with staggering passion. “Is this a good way to see in the morning, or what?”

“Yeah, getting railed by nine inches of perfection? Definitely beats anything else I could think of.” Letting go of her face, he moved his hand between her legs, beginning to rub her clit in time with each thrust, Zoey mewling breathlessly at the glimmers prickling down her spine, her slick muscles twitching around him.

The heat of him, the thickness of his broad body atop hers, making her feel so imposed upon, so tiny beneath him. It would have been very fair to say she had a size kink, enjoying being overpowered, held beneath his weight. God, it was erotic. She loved it when he was utterly barbarous with her, but couldn’t deny, the soft dom in him had a special place too, especially when he nuzzled her neck, whispering words of love, speeding up to take them to a sizzling finish.

They lay soft and breathless against one other before getting up to shower, Zoey ordering breakfast in, both enjoying a very lazy morning, eating in their sweats before cuddling up on the sofa. They lay around talking before dressing and leaving the sanctuary of the apartment, Tyler driving them out to the same trail he enjoyed taking his kids biking upon, both deciding to get some exercise in the form of a run.

It was a gorgeous setting, but it reminded him sorely of how much he missed his children. He’d only been gone for a day, but he missed getting up to see them off to school before sleeping a little longer if he’d been on nights, he missed fetching them from school if he’d been in early, he missed his little routine with them, their excitement to see him, Grace’s love of climbing up him for a hug, Seth’s self-destructive streak, Lani’s happy gurgles as she pointed at him. Her recent first word had been daddy.

When they stopped for a break, he voiced this all to Zoey, who, as he predicted, found the words to soothe him. “Of course, you miss them. You’re a great dad, but what made you even better was walking away from a situation that would only have begun to impact them if you’d stayed. I’m not biased either because I’m one of the factors that drove your decision. I’d still tell you that had you left her and we hadn’t had an affair.”

He nodded, half smiling. “Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right.”

“There’s nothing to stop you seeing them before your designated day though, is there?”

“Yes, me having a bit of sensitivity for their mother. That’s what’s stopping me.” Seeing the look in her eyes, he realised he’d been a little too sharp, reaching for her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Come here.” He pulled her into a hug, Zoey swallowing the lump in her throat. She was the exact opposite to Ella; she never rose to conflict or anyone being short with her. She shrank from it. “Love you, my little kinky princess.”

That made her smile. She liked it when he referred to her as his kinky princess. “I love you too. Sorry my suggestion sucked, you’re right, you should let Ella have her peace to process it all without inflicting yourself on her until she’s had her time.’

When he did see her after another three days, though, he wished he’d left it longer.

“Leave your keys behind when you go, either that or I’ll change the locks,” Ella greeted him with coldly as he entered the kitchen. She’d gone into demanding bitch mode, as he wagered she likely would. Again, he was happy to take her ire, but he wouldn’t stand for her demanding he hand over the keys to a house that belonged to him.

She hadn’t worked since giving birth to Seth; meaning he’d paid considerably more into it than she had for the last five years, plus the fact he’d owned it before he’d even met her, using a good chunk of his inheritance from his father, knowing that one day, he’d fill it with a family.

“House is in my name, so no, you can’t do that. I’m not leaving my keys either, again, because it’s my house.” His simple explanation was met by pure ice.

“You utter bastard!” She hissed, eyeing him with venom.

“Yeah, I am for what I did to you, but I’m not handing in my keys over just because you’re angry and want to command me. I might have let you get away with it when we were together, but I won’t now we’re separated, unless it’s for the benefit of the kids,” he reasoned, Ella spinning around away from the sink to snarl at him.

“You have no right to not let me have my feelings! You cheated on me, with my goddamned bitch of a sister!!”

“Be that as it may, I still won’t cave to your unreasonable demands. Expecting me to turn in my keys to you is unreasonable. They’re not feelings either, that I’m not allowing you to have. They’re your commands of me. Not gonna work.”

“Why? You don’t need keys. You don’t live here any longer!”

“And unless you can buy me out, neither will you once we divorce.”

“You’d seriously kick your own kids out onto the streets? Out of the only home they’ve ever known?” And here she went with emotional manipulation. Like he couldn’t see it coming a mile away. When she was like this, it made him truly see just how nasty she was capable of being, and how much he’d stood for, explained away with her, kept quiet over for the sake of a peaceful life.

“I didn’t say that. I told you that you could buy me out. Either that or you’ll get your share of it and you can buy yourself something with that. Anyway, this is too far in the future to discuss. Where are they?”

“No, we’re gonna talk about this right now!”

“Where are our children, Ella?”

“My children. Mine.”

“You didn’t conceive all on your own. They’re ours.”

“You don’t deserve them.”

“Stop it.”

He knew what she was doing. It was another tactic he’d pushed down, not wanted to fully acknowledge because he’d loved her so much. She would goad people into exploding at her in order to play the victim. Well, in his mind, she was victim enough.

Looking out of the window behind her as she began to rant at him more, he saw Grace run past, turning to head into the lounge and out to the bifold doors, catching her in his arms and swinging her around. Lord, he’d missed her so much, Seth hitting his legs a second later.

“Dad! Where ya been? Missed you, I got a star in class today for my reading!”

“Did you? Good lad, I’m proud of you, mate!” Crouching, he picked up his son in his other arm, kissing his head, giving Grace the same as she snuggled into him.

“I missed you, daddy. Are you staying home now? Mummy said you were busy with work, but you’re home again now, right?”

“No, titch. Come on, let’s go inside. Mummy and I need to talk to you.” Grace didn’t let go of him once they’d gotten back in the house, Seth sitting down on his favourite floor cushion, Ella joining them.

“Kids, this isn’t easy for mummy and I,” he began, Ella snorting. He shot her a look that told her to cut it out and be present and adultlike for the children before continuing. “We’ve decided that I’m not going to live here any longer. You’ll still see me, I’m gonna get another place where you’ll be able to come stay with me whenever you want, so long as I’m not at work, but I won’t be here all the time any more.

“I want you to know that we both love you very much, more than anything. That doesn’t change, it never, ever will either. You guys are the most important people to us, but me and mummy, we’re not the most important people to each other any longer.”

“But why?” Grace asked, bewildered, Seth looking on with big, glassy eyes.

“Mummy and I just aren’t happy with each other any longer, so we’ve decided we’d be happier being apart. You guys are our total focus, though, and I mean it. When I’m not at work, my time is all yours.”

“When you’re not railing your tart.” It might’ve been muttered so quietly that the kids didn’t pick up on her words, but it was enough to make Tyler’s blood boil, that this was all Ella had decided to contribute.

“I don’t want you to go, though!”

“And I don’t want to leave you, titch, but you’ll soon get used to it. Hey, you’re gonna have two homes, so you know what that means? Two bedrooms and I promise, we’ll decorate your room at my place however you want. How about that?”

“Bright pink?”

“The brighter the better?”

“Dad, can I get a car bed?”

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Now, do you guys have anything you need to ask us?”

“Will we still have Christmas and birthdays together?” Seth questioned.

“Of course.”

Again, Ella snorted.

“Mummy, why aren’t you saying anything?” Grace then asked, reaching for her mum but not leaving her dad’s arms.

“Your daddy has said most of it. It’ll be okay, though, baby. We just need to adjust to everything being a little different. Listen, it’s getting close to your bedtime, so go up and get ready, alright? Dad and I will be up in a minute to tuck you in.” The kids both hugged their parents before heading up, Tyler letting out a sigh once they’d left the room.

“That went better than I ever expected it to. Kids are resilient, though. Hopefully it shouldn't impact them too much, and I meant it, I’ll be around whenever I’m not working so I can be present in their lives, too.”

“I don’t want her around them. They’re not to see my sister at all.”

“You don’t get to dictate that. She’s their auntie, and when the time is right, we’ll tell them about her being more to me too, but not right away so as not to bombard them. You can’t deprive them of Zoey. They love her, Ella.”

“They won’t love her once I’ve told them their daddy walked out on me, on them too, for her.”

“If you do that, use the kids against me, shatter them to hurt me, then you’re more deplorable than I’ve been in all of this. Also, I didn’t walk out on them. Just you.”

Getting up, he followed his kids up to bed, kissing a sleeping Lani before going in to tuck Seth and Grace in, promising them he’d see them on Sunday, take them out as planned prior to his leaving the family home.

“I want to know.” Ella began when they were back downstairs, Tyler picking up his keys and phone. “Why her? Why my fucking sister of all people?”

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Because she made me feel wanted when you turned your back on me. It wasn’t just about sex, it was about affection and having someone who listened to me, who liked being around me. You acted like you hated me for so long, gaslit me in every quarrel we ever had and were utterly cold toward me. I still take the blame for straying, but that’s what drove me away.”

“What was it about her that kept you there, though? What kept you going back to keep fucking her? Was she better than me?”

He remained silent there.

“Was she?”

“Stop shouting, Ella.”

“Was she though?”

“Why are you pushing me so hard for an answer here?”

“Because I need to know! What was it about my devious slut of a sister that made you want to keep going back?”

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ call her that again. Yes, we were devious, but she’s not a slut.”

“I’ll call her what I like!”

“Not around me, you won’t.”

She looked shocked at his firmness there, but still, she kept poking away at him. “Tell me what it was. I want to know.”

“Yes, she was better, is better, if you really need to know. As for why, because I have a deeper sexual connection with her, is why, which eventually grew into a deeper overall connection. You don’t need to know anything else. I’m trying like fuck here not to hurt you any more than I already have.”

“Let’s you do all that disgusting dominating, does she? So, she’s that kind of girl, one who lets you tie her up and smack her around, all that shit I was always too proud to let you do to me? Seems fitting for Zoey, she was always the weakest. Does she let you take her up her bony arse as well, degrade her completely? Yeah, I'm getting the picture here. All you wanted was a filthy whore, and that’s exactly what you got.”

Her words tipped his rage so strongly, it was all he could do not to get up and storm out of there. Her attitude, small minded, opinionated and selfishly misguided, it needed to be checked before he did though. “Her being submissive to my dominance doesn’t make her any less proud, nor does it mean she’s weak. It’s a sexual preference based around arousal. We happen to fit very well together there. Just because you aren’t into it, it doesn’t give you the right to sit there kink shaming us, or calling your sister a filthy whore. She isn’t.

“I’m done having you dissect my sex life just because you need to be vindictive. You can be angry with me for cheating on you all you like, but I’m not gonna sit here and let you play your mind games with me, Ella. You pushing me for a reaction so you can play the victim isn’t happening. We’ve told the kids, I’ve packed more of my stuff, I’m now leaving.”

“Don’t think I’ll take you back once you’ve gotten bored of her, or her you. We’re done for good, you know. I literally wouldn’t touch you with someone else’s. You utterly disgust me, fuckin’ pervert.”

He almost laughed at how spiteful she was being, not one shred of dignity about her as she continued attempting to goad a rise out of him. He simply shrugged, got up and walked out. Yes, she was entitled to be angry with him for having an affair with Zoey, but fuck, he wouldn’t take her nastiness. Not one ounce of it. It was the side of her he’d always found to be intolerable, knowing she could have a very sharp tongue, but this was new, this level of venom.

‘I guess she’s gonna be like this for the foreseeable. You did leave her in the lurch when she likely needed you the most.’

Thinking back to what she’d confessed, he knew it was definitely an extra layer added to her rage at him, not only cheating on her, but continuing it after she’d revealed she was suffering still from Lani’s birth. Something suddenly came to him there, though. Not once had she mentioned it, thrown it at him, called him out for leaving her when she needed the support of her husband. Undeniably, it would have been very in character to have shamed him for it too.

All the way home, it began to bother him the deeper he thought into it. Her actions, her words, almost everything wasn’t fitting of someone who had gone through trauma, as she claimed she did with Lani. Yes, uncontrollable rage was a symptom of PTSD, he’d suffered it, it was exactly what Ella had been attempting to deliberately provoke in him before he’d left, too, but something about it all was very off.

There were so many layers to people suffering trauma, as he knew himself. Sadness, inability to trust, shame, feelings of worthlessness, nightmares and guilt, to name a few. She’d confided none of them in him when they’d been working on their marriage. No one else had noticed any kind of difference in her either. She’d been the same Ella to her sisters and her kids. When he’d been suffering, everyone in his life had seen the change in him.

Ella’s change in demeanour was solely and exclusively towards him.

Just one trip to the doctors and her diagnosis had been given, no medication, just the advice to seek therapy? Now he was looking at it from the outside since their separation, something didn’t add up to him. At the time he’d been too focused on trying to save his marriage, but the more he thought on it, the more it bothered him. Alarm bells began to blare in his head, but still, he couldn’t quite trust himself.

Of course, there was one person he took it to first as soon as he arrived back at her place, drinking a beer in the kitchen while helping Zoey prepare dinner.

“Is it me? Is it just my mind throwing things up at me so I don’t feel quite so guilty about being so bloody happy now I’ve left her for you? Want me to?” Gesturing at the red snapper fishes on the chopping board, Zoey stopped her hovering and passed him the cleaver, Tyler bringing it down and taking both of their heads off in one clean cut, Zoey wincing. “Are they gutted? Ahhh yeah, I see the belly slits. So, what do you think?”

Transferring the heads to the bin and the cleaver to the sink, Zoey went back over to season the fish before placing them onto the pieces of foil they’d be wrapped and baked in, mulling his words over.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about, too. When I overheard her and Cait talking in the kitchen at Christmas, she never mentioned anything remotely relating to traumatic birth, or PTSD. I mean, I know Lani’s birth was bad, but she’s not mentioned it as anything contributing to her behaviour. In fact, she’s never said anything of the sort to me and as far as I know, not Cait or Fran either. She just said it was all her fault that she’d pushed you away, so she does admit culpability, just not in the face of what she now knows. It is interesting, though, that she never told any of us about going to see the doctor, or a therapist.”

“Well, the therapist thing is new, she’s only had two sessions so far. She goes every Friday, so her third is next week. It is weird that she didn’t tell you guys, though. That’s not like her, you lot confide everything in one another. Well, current circumstances excluded, at least.”

Zoey nodded, Tyler’s words causing her own mental cogs to begin turning as she switched the oven on, fetching the brown rice jar from the cupboard. “She wouldn’t be making this up to guilt you into staying, after sensing your issues might’ve led to you leaving? Surely, with how bad things were, she felt you emotionally checking out?”

“It does seem like Ella behaviour.”

“At her worst, she’s always been capable of being emotionally manipulative, I’d agree. Mum was like that, too. She learned from her. I just can’t see why she’d want you to stay when she’s been being so cold and distant with you, though.” Pouring the required amount of rice into the steamer, she growled with frustration. “We’re not even impartial, though, Tyler! We’re not the ones this should be coming from, because we’ll only look like we’re trying to absolve our guilt.”

“No, you’re right. I know someone who could, though. Or at least, who might be able to confirm our suspicions.”

It was the same someone who called them at the end of the week, asking if they wanted to come to dinner the following Friday night, the only Hudson left willing to have anything to do with them.

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hinac0lada · 4 years

Text

puppy love

𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: soulmate au ; where you can write/draw on your skin, it appears on your soulmate’s skin too. in this case, you communicate with your soulmate in your mother tongue for fun. it’s fun to write certain phrases in filipino.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: shoutout to fellow pinoys this is my first time writing a mini series like this - esp since it’s a joint fic with a good friend of mine! show her sum love on wp over at yeonghoney !!

not @ ing myself bc this is yet another self indulgent thing HSJHDK

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ;

y/n group intro - hajime group intro

➺ one - anti oikawa club

➺ two - is this japanese?

➺ three - h word on main

➺ four - not oikawa approved

➺ five - the weekdayz

➺ six - ooh spicy

➺ seven - gossip girl

➺ eight - ratata’d ur way in

➺ nine - buff baby bokuto

➺ ten - blues clues

➺ eleven - ...

- MORE SOON.

#iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smau #iwaizumi smau #puppy love #puppy love smau #puppy love masterlist #masterlist

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ilkkawhat · 3 years

Note

For the SOULMATE Alphabet prompt, can I ask E or ESP for Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver please? All these prompts sound like so much fun!

[be gentle with me it’s been like. years since i’ve written these two. i’m being dramatic it’s only been three months.]

There’s one reason and one reason only Jack and Mac would allow themselves to be apart for long times at long distances, and that reason was something that even all of the infinite science in Mac’s brain, all of the infinite wisdom in Jack’s heart couldn’t even explain.

They figured it out when they had parted ways after Lake Como. Both had been too injured to realize that the pain they were feeling—on top of what they were already feeling—was each other’s. Mac thought the pain in his head was his mind overworking itself trying to reconcile Nikki’s (supposed) death. Jack thought the pain in his chest was the early signs of a heart attack, not uncommon in his family.

They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a month. Mac was finally out of the hospital, Jack was at his apartment. Jack didn’t quite know what to do, give the kid space or hover over him as an emotional Overwatch support, but he ultimately figured that Bozer would tend to him and that he would just pop by for a visit—which never happened because every time he thought of going, there was a forcefield of guilt that kept him from passing through the unlocked threshold to Mac’s house.

Mac, meanwhile, thought it was bad enough that he lost Nikki, he didn’t want to lose Jack, too. His fingers would constantly key over Jack’s number in his phone that he had memorized forwards and backwards. But he didn’t want to bother him. Figured that he was busy with a new job cause the older man was always working non-stop, as much as he would “complain” about the mundaneness of a nine-to-five job; all the paperwork and meetings and lack of an appropriate amount of sick days or whining for a raise, he knew that really Jack just wanted to keep himself busy, occupied.

Or otherwise he’d end up where Mac thought he was in that moment, on a couch, wrapped up in a bathrobe.

“Jack?” Mac gasped himself awake from an almost-nap. He sat up and threw his hand to his side, expecting it to land on Jack’s shoulder, or knee, or just any part of his body that would elicit some witty remark, “the lights go out in those bright eyes of yours, hoss?”

His hand didn’t touch anything. But he definitely felt Jack there with him, on his couch. Smelled him, too. And he was overcome with some strange...sadness. Remorse. It wasn’t a foreign emotion to him at the time, so he had sort of shrugged it off, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him, that the pain meds were too strong.

And then Jack woke him up with a phone call.

“Were you just at my house?” his tone was laced with the usual paranoia that came when anything was out of place at his apartment, but there was an odd sort of seriousness and urgency that Mac felt, too.

“No. Did you come here?”

“No, not since I drove by last night to drop off some pizza and beer.”

“That was you? Why didn’t you come in?”

“Boze said you were sleepin’ and I didn’t wanna wake you.”

“Well...you woke me up now,” Mac smiled though he knew Jack couldn’t see it.

Yet in a way, he could.

“What is going on here, hoss? It-it’s like you’re sitting right in front of me.”

“I don’t know. You wanna come over? Maybe we can sit by the fire and try to figure it out together.”

“Aight. Be there in ten.”

Jack lived fifteen minutes away.

They sat by the fire and once they passed by the awkward small talk they were able to properly catch up; though Mac didn’t have much to offer with the bed rest he had been sentenced to, but was pleased to announce that he would be beginning his rehab. Jack, meanwhile, got a gig being a stunt coordinator—disguising the fact with a cough that he was also partaking in some of the more dangerous stunts himself.

It was good that it happened, a brief reunion before a more permanent one that came months later when they got to go back to work together, the small steps leading to a true recovery of a slightly tarnished friendship in the face of a failed mission.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

They don’t feel anything unexpected, again, thinking it was just their own emotions they were waving through and the yearning for each other’s presence, but one of the first times they were separated, it was stronger than ever before.

And it wasn’t even that big of a separation. Just a few feet. A couple more feet. Maybe the length of a basketball court, at most. Mac moving backwards. Jack standing still. Jack could feel the panic rising within Mac as he scrambled to defuse the bomb Jack was standing on. Mac could feel the sheer dread and terror pouring out of the sweat beads on Jack’s skin.

The stakes hadn’t been so high since Mac had to disarm a bomb within an impossible amount of seconds back at the sandbox—and in hindsight, he can’t help but wonder if that’s when they had formed this new sort of...bond.

Jack must have figured it out too, because the next time it happened, just a week or so later, it came after Mac had been taken and drugged by the cartel. Jack was in full on rescue mode, dressed from head to toe in tactical gear—but he had to remove the helmet when he felt like he had some sort of mask smothered on top of his face. And then he felt lightheaded. And then he felt...woozy.

He pushed through it to save Mac—and in seeing Mac the odd sensation had washed away but when Mac told him that’s exactly what he felt when he was put under, the pieces were put together in Jack’s head.

“What kind of Vulcan mind-meld shit is this!?”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s like we’re getting into each other’s heads, a-and feeling each other when we’re apart.”

“You can admit it Jack, you just miss seein’ your sunshine boy,” Mac had waved him off with a poor imitation of his accent.

“I’m serious, buddy this is...this is real. I-I don’t know how to explain it but it’s like we’re...we’re…”

“Soulmates?”

“Yeah! That’s the word.”

“How romantic.”

Jack couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt by Mac’s downplay of his emotions, their emotions over their new transcended level of connection he never thought he would have with another man, let alone another person in his life.

But Mac would soften when his emotions got cranked to eleven.

It was their first real argument since the Sandbox. Jack tracking Mac down to Paris—which, with this new sixth sense of being able to feel Mac wherever he was when he wasn’t with Jack, he didn’t need to work as hard but he still explained how easy it was to track him down, even without their newfound “special powers,” as Jack claimed them to be—and beyond the confusion he was secretly pleased to have such an ability, harkening back to his childhood days of reading comic books and jumping off couches with a bedsheet cape on his back.

They both felt each other’s resentment, each other’s anger, until Jack calmed down when Mac called an apologized. He let Mac’s voice go to voicemail, but followed his call like he was lured by a siren.

Even though he tried to joke about a “groveling apology” that he knew Mac wasn’t actually going to give him despite the actual upset he had felt and truly wanted to apologize for to Jack, Jack entered the house knowing something was wrong.

Because he couldn’t feel Mac at all. Couldn’t feel him joking around with Bozer. Couldn’t feel him lost and searching for a deadbeat father who abandoned him—a sensation Jack didn’t quite understand until he felt Mac reliving it in his worst nights. Couldn’t feel him happy to be with the Phoenix family.

Mac’s house was as empty as Jack felt, and he was on the verge of losing it like never before—until he felt a cold shiver creep through is body. Felt a sharp prick, felt like his body was being pumped and drained at the same time.

Felt fear mixed with anger mixed with...vague...intrigue and the last time he felt it, Jack was at the mercy of a small red dot boring into his chest while Mac played the most dangerous game of cat and mouse.

And this time, he was the mouse.

“My spidey-senses are all telling me the same thing...It’s Murdoc.”

He hoped and prayed that he could somehow ease Mac’s terror with his own determination to find him. He swallowed down his tears, swallowed down his guilt for the sake of giving the kid some sort of hope with a forced sense of confidence that he would find him in no time.

And no time is exactly what he felt. What they both felt. Jack’s confidence turned to confusion when Mac no longer felt trapped, but instead...lost. And paranoid. Even more paranoid than Jack himself.

So lost that even when they physically found each other, it still seemed like forever until they emotionally found each other again, with more and more separations, more victimizations on their more deadly missions with gunshots and electrocutions and gas chambers. Fits of inexplicable rage and jealousy as they explored other interests besides each other. Odd sensations of loneliness when they weren’t working together.

Even when they were actually trapped together in Mac’s house, sitting on another bomb, it took them a whole episode of reminiscing how they got together in the first place that made them realize how no matter how often they would be lost from one another, they would always find each other, even in their worst moments.

And it was after that near miss they both exchanged real apologies. Mac admitted that perhaps this “mind meld” was real after all. Jack said “having you stuck with me ain’t so bad after all. Toldja I’m never gonna leave you, there’s definitely no getting rid of me now.”

“But...what’s going to happen when...one of us dies?” Mac didn’t even want to ask it. Didn’t actually even say the words.

Jack asked the same thing when he was prematurely laid to rest in a burning coffin, descending into hell and screaming for Mac both in the literal sense and the emotional sense—so much so that Mac could hardly take it—he felt like he was on fire and oh god, he actually was as he put his hands on the burning wood and freed Jack from inferno.

“Being burned alive...was always curious,” Jack breathed, putting a hand that oddly felt ablaze on his chest, while Mac danced on figurative hot coals.

“You’re insane, man.”

“I don’t think death is the end,” Jack answered him finally, when they were being wrapped up by the paramedics.

“How much smoke did you inhale?” Mac almost laughed, confused as to what he was referring to, thinking he had some sort of existential realization on the precipice of death.

“But wh-what if when one of us dies...the other will too? Kaboom-kaboom,” Mac continued the conversation after a particularly rough day spent in the war room with a beaten, sunken black eye while Jack ran around pretending to be a lone wolf yet he was wrangling up the pack and doing a favor by helping out his daughter’s real father, the conflicting emotions of which didn’t ease Mac’s troubles, either.

“Told ya, that won’t be it. There’s gonna be something after kaboom. For both of us.”

“Then why do you always fight so hard for us not to explode?”

“Cause I can’t let you have too much fun when you’re dropping those improv-bombs to get us out of sticky situations. There’s still a few things I wanna do before I move on from this world.”

“Right, your bucket list,” Mac smiled.

“Exactly, hoss. And what’s say...we cross another one off now?”

They were interrupted, as always, by an emergency call that revealed the truth about Mac’s father, and a falsification of how they had been brought together.

“Who do you think pulled the strings to pair you two together in Afghanistan?”

Bullshit. And Jack made a point of pointing that out, and how dare he even make the implication that even if things didn’t work out between Jack and Mac, that there would just be another Overwatch put in his place, and another, until Oversight saw fit that his son would be taken care of like he never had done for him before?

Needless to say, there were a lot of emotions, conflicting ones at that—even Jack himself was torn between sucking up to the boss but also wanting to punch him in the face, and do minor things like refuse handshakes, accidentally trip him, anything to just...annoy him without a fireable offense, per se.

But when Mac left the Phoenix, he may as well have gone, too.

He still doesn’t know why he didn’t. Was it some sense of duty to protect the remainder of the pack? Was it the same hesitation he had when Mac took his leave of absence after Nikki’s death, wanting to give him space but still wanting to suffocate him at the same time?

Was it fear that one day, Mac would walk away from him, too?

While the separation was brief, only a few months though it felt like years—especially when Jack felt the length of Mac’s hair on his own chin that allowed him to measure the actual length of time that had elapsed, when they came face to face again it still felt like they were worlds apart.

Because Mac abandoned his family.

Mac abandoned Jack.

And in what godforsaken world would that happen?

The same world where Jack would do the same almost half a year later.

“NO!” Mac shouted, rising from another cold-sweat nightmare.

Jack laid beside him, startled awake.

“Everything okay, hoss?” Jack whispered.

“Just...just...had a bad dream,” Mac whispered back.

They would keep their voices low, but their emotions high. There were certain things that just had to be said to be understood as felt between them.

“I missed you,” Mac gulped.

“You know I’m right here, don’t ya?” Jack laughed from his own bed, Mac felt a gentle scratching at the back of his head.

“I know. I know you’re here, it’s just…”

He turned his head, he didn’t even know why he was whispering, the house had never been so silent before. No snoring Bozer. No Jack strumming the guitar on a restless night. No keys clicking beneath the speed of Riley’s rapid fingers. No phonecalls from Matty.

“You’re not. Not even alive.”

“Who in the hell told you that?”

“The...the army.”

Mac’s phone rang, he answered without even looking at the number. The ring was for a video call, so he lazily pulled the string of his bedside lamp.

Jack was on the other side, soft fauxhawk and subtle stubble tracing the start of a beard on his face.

“My God, what fucked up dream did you have, man?”

“The kind that lasts forever,” Mac mumbled. “That felt...too real…”

“I turned down the Kovac mission, you remember that, right? The image was fake. Just a taunt. The broadcast orchestrated by Murdoc just to dick around with us again.”

“I know, I know it just...I can’t help but wonder what could have...could have happened if you…”

“You gotta stop beating yourself up so much, kid. I’ve told you, over and over, this ain’t one of those ‘you hurt me, so I’mma hurt you’ sort of games. We don’t do that manipulative shit.”

“Jack, I left you—”

“You left the Phoenix. I stayed. My choice.”

Jack suddenly felt the corners of his eyes burn. The corner of Mac’s eyes burn.

“I wanted you to come with me.”

“I know. And I wanted to.”

“I know,” Mac swallowed. “I...I felt that you did but...why didn’t you?”

“You walked away that day but you didn’t walk alone. I was there with you the entire time. You know that.”

“But you weren’t!”

“You’re right. You’re right,” Jack shook his head, squeezing his face. He waved his tongue over his lips, Mac suddenly felt freshness over the chapped flesh that was trembling as he held the tiny screen of Jack in between his hands.

“I...I knew how you felt, being abandoned by your Dad...Cause I did that to Riley.”

“You didn’t...abandon her—”

“Then what would you have called it?”

It was a question Mac didn’t have an answer to.

“Regardless, I think it’s safe to say that you’re not the only one with abandonment issues, I’m just...on the other side of the spectrum. Worlds apart from the pain you musta felt when dear ol’ Dad leftcha and I shouldn’ta tried to push you back together without thinking how you might have felt—”

“Jack, Jack, it’s fine. I-I know you just...you had good intentions. Cause of what happened to your Dad.”

Jack nodded, wiped a hand over the running nose that Mac felt, though his was dry.

“And anyway, I just. I was scared, I guess. Didn’t know what to do. Hadn’t been on that side of the coin before. It may have hurt you but it...it hurt me, too.”

“I know it did. And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“So...where do we go from here?” Mac asked, clearing his throat.

“Doesn’t matter, really. Cause no matter where you go, where I go, where we both go...We have each other.”

Mac felt Jack’s touch, though it was a poor substitute for the real deal, as he closed his eyes and envisioned him sitting next to him, his arms wrapped around him, hugging him to his chest.

“Forever,” Mac sighed, and Jack smiled as he felt the reassurance that while it had been stretched and twisted and tested, their bond would never be broken.

Not even in a death that Jack oddly felt he had just narrowly missed by some sort of guardian angel watching over him.

#nonny #macgyver fic #macdalton #angus macgyver #jack dalton #mk.op #mk.fic #ya know if a certain thing didn't happen in canon this fic would have ended a lot differently but i just #i couldn't #only happy endings for jack from now on i don't make the rules #though i know i really have no right to be here anymore lol

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