#also get her in grief counselling good god

[sapphic-agent]

I know that this isn't a problem unique to MHA, and this isn't even a new complaint within the fandom, but the way the series deals with trauma (physical and mental) is off-putting.

Eri endures years upon years of isolation and abuse? Well, all she needs is a song and dance, and now she's smiling! Because of this, she's completely and 100% recovered from what all Overhaul put her through!

1A endures villain attack after villain attack after villain attack? Well, we've offered them counseling, not that they've been showing signs of burgeoning PTSD or anything, so they really don't need it!

Izuku mentally and physically pushes himself past his breaking point during the Dark Izuku arc, going without food, sleep, and ignoring his unhealed injuries? Obviously, all he needs is for 1A to drag him back by force and make him take bath! He's 100% good as new now!

I've already complained enough about Bakugou's bullying, so I won't rehash that.

Sir Nighteye repeatedly disregards All Might's boundaries in the name of protecting him from a horrible future, using two teenagers as a means to an end in this regard? It's okay! He had a point all along, and he truly cared!

Aizawa, Present Mic, and Midnight lose an incredibly close friend in a freak accident during their school days? Midnight's feelings aren't even explored, Present Mic neglects his own grief in favor of Aizawa, and Aizawa uses his grief as an excuse to be an asshole to everyone around him and play God with his students' futures, with NO ONE calling out his behavior as what it is.

I think the overarching problem with MHA is that Horikoshi simply doesn't know how to handle the subject of trauma or how victims can be affected by it.

It think it's why characters like Izuku, Todoroki, Eri, etc. don't feel like real people sometimes. Because if he actually focuses on their trauma, he also has to make them more complex and complexity can be very ugly. If he keeps them surface-level (Izuku being friendly/saving others, Todoroki being blunt/dry, and Eri being a cute kid), he doesn't have to get into the nitty gritty of their characters.

It would also mean making it about 20x harder to redeem Bakugou and Endeavor.

If we had more than vague flashbacks of Endeavor abusing 5 year old Todoroki, beating Rei and pushing her into insanity, and willfully neglecting Touya as his mental health deteriorates more and more, he would be seen as a lot more than simply overzealous and misguided ambition that got out of hand. He would be seen as a monster. Horikoshi has to keep flashbacks of the Todoroki family surface-level or Endeavor's redemption wouldn't have been nearly as well-received.

And of course we've gone over Bakugou. He has to saturate Bakugou with comedy or the shit he pulls would come off a lot more disturbing. If every scene with him was like the Battle Trials, he wouldn't be looked upon nearly as favorably. He wouldn't be funny or endearing (he isn't to me anyway, but I'm talking about in general), he would just be deranged and violent.

There's also the fact that Horikoshi tries his best to keep things lighthearted. I think it's because he's more comfortable doing so and it explains why Dark Deku was so disappointing. To shroud the story in a darker tone- especially with a character he tries to keep light and cheery at all times- really didn't work for him.

I think the proof is in him keeping so many characters alive when they should have died. He is unable to write the affect characters like Gran Torino and Bakugou dying would have on Izuku which is why he couldn't commit himself to killing them off.

Problem with Aizawa is that no one (Horikoshi included) sees a problem with his behavior. He's justified in his "tough love" and is seen as such a good teacher. Although for Midnight and Present Mic, I feel as though he just doesn't bother giving them any depth at all. Midnight only exists for perverted jokes and Mic is simply supposed to be a contrast for Aizawa (a prop really). He actually did start to give Midnight depth and character, but it was only like five minutes before killing her off😐

(It would have been nice if Midnight being an R-rated hero was a product of society. Her being sexualized her whole life because of her quirk/appearance and just deciding to embrace it because it was the only way to reasonably become a hero has always been my headcanon. Her civilian clothes aren't revealing (not that that really matters) and when it comes to being a hero she's very sweet and encouraging and so unlike what we see usually. When she was being interviewed about her costume, she actually started to give a really good answer before Horikoshi decided to make a cat fight out of it. That really sums up the story as a whole, it starts off really deep and intricate before eventually being interrupted by juvenile jokes and unnecessary situations)

I really wish we could have seen more of Eri's recovery. I feel like her trauma is really overlooked/ignored outside of being a plot device to be saved by Izuku and Mirio. I think the light novel of Aizawa having Bakugou of all people watch her is proof of that. Why on Earth would he take the chance that Bakugou- someone who has repeatedly dismissed others' trauma, attacked those weaker than him, and been insensitive to others' feelings, and has a destructive quirk- could trigger her? Why use Eri- an abused, traumatized kid- as a tool to make Bakugou better? But sure, Aizawa is such a good teacher, right?

(Seriously, what the fuck?)

Someone needed to tell Nighteye to shut the fuck up. This doesn't really contribute anything to this post, but I needed to say it. There's literally nothing good about him (HE STRAPPED HIS SUBORDINATE TO A TICKLE MACHINE TO FORCE HER TO LAUGH)

[jaggedwolf]

pll rewatch 2x01-2x03

new season, a forced separation, an unexplained greenhouse set

the introduction of one Dr Anne Sullivan. Shares a name with Helen Keller's instructor for no discernible reason, she is played by an actor known to the contemporaneous recappers I've been reading, because more than one of them go "Oh, it's Annabeth Gish!"

She was in 27 episodes of The X-Files and 6 episodes of The West Wings, both shows I'd expect TV recappers to have watched

Another sleepover, featuring the liars revolting against the strength of Spencer's coffee

They don't even get to have coffee because all non-military and non-Tom parents are assembled to tell the girls (1) yeah we think you're making shit up (2) you have to go to grief counseling because you are too obsessed with your friend's death

Our 2010s suburban teenagers are like we don't want to go therapy because we are not crazy (note: Spencer and Hanna are most negative on this topic)

Emily is traumatizing herself by rewatching the Jenna-Toby video, and then gets traumatized by Pam letting a broker go "get rid of all personality from this room asap". Pam work on your scheduling

Spencer on one couch while her parents + Melissa are on the opposite: will this framing ever change?

I'm just saying, in the supposedly unlikely event your daughter and her friends aren't lying...she almost fucking died! Give her a little comfort!

Caleb's apology is very good sad boy, but more than that or Hanna not getting back with him, what I enjoy in this early season era is that there is no secret noble motivation. He did a shitty thing for selfish reasons, because he dismissed everyone involved as rich pretty girls, it isn't more complicated than that and doesn't need to be

Spencer trying on sexy(?) shirts for Toby when it's like. The dude's hair has gotten worse and you know he just put on a random t-shirt and jeans. Also he won't care.

Anw the show has remembered that Toby and Emily are friends. would love for them to be able to hang out without a Spencer motivator, but you know, custody's been transferred

It is a sweet scene, I like Toby immediately taking out his knife and Emily going :0 and Toby going it's okay, I've already gotten my teen carpenter upgrades, I will fix it up (and he does, as we see in the background later)

only Ezra comment is that they painted on his abs LOL please that man does not go to the gym

Jar of Hearts plays as all the girls are really emo about Sullivan-endorsed and parent-enforced separation between them. love that they are so distraught by this

and Spencer freaking out so badly once she hears a sound outside. Spencer :(

I say "parent-enforced" very loosely because all four girls sneak out at night to meet at a greenhouse. It's a great-looking set but where is this greenhouse whose is this greenhouse why is this greenhouse. Is this a public property. Did they break into the local botanical gardens.

It's probably abandoned. Classic.

Okay later episodes show them constantly passing Alison's house when leaving the greenhouse. Do Spencer's parents own a greenhouse nearby.

Emily should be more upset about her laptop being wiped, beyond the videos, like that's all her shit!!!

okay i guess Emily doesn't use her laptop that much, I am projecting

very funny to me that the first Emily/Samara scene this season is at a swim meet. does Paige notice this or is she too busy going insane because there is a scout here and her dad is going well there's the scout too bad you aren't anchor huh

Probably she does not notice because she is laser-focused on swimming and in her "ignore Emily unless we are literally doing a relay together" era. Good/bad for her

Sorry you will continue to get my theories on what Paige is up to when not on-screen. Until I crack and fic it.

Random break-ins happen, reported by Pam. god 2024 pam would be on NextDoor huh

A ring camera would solve a lot of problems in rosewood

Toby is the saddest unemployed boy in the world and Spencer would like to be his sugar mommy. 100% believe Spencer would be good at that

Honestly who cares if she lost Melissa's ring, Melissa sucks, so does Ian, the Hastings can easily afford another ring.

Spencer saying "I wanted to say it first" in response to Toby's ILU and still not saying "I love you too"....Spencer will Win even at love

Aria got fucking shoved into that lamp holy hell, forget her wrist her torso probably should get iced

Samara and Emily have a conversation about first girlfriends

Samara is already kind of boring, I'm surprised they don't kiss in this episode

There's a flashback where Spencer and Emily were going to have a sleepover before Ali crashed. i should be commenting something intelligent about this being the rare chink in Ali's armor, instead i want to know everything about flashback-era Spemily sleepovers

Look it's rare evidence of the liars having individual friendships back then, and they are quite cute in their little sleepover outfits of Spencer's pajamas and Emily's hoodie

Spencer is so fragile-looking when she asks Melissa if she'd protect her....oh Spencer, I'm glad you have Toby and his abs right now

I am also glad you have nightmares where you discuss theories with your friends at the movie theatre while a black-and-white horror film plays. Going to count this as Emily influence

Emily tells her mom it's Paige calling when the landline rings and Pam goes sure and moves on, and like, I have so many questions. obviously the Fields and the McCullers know each other from the swimming but last time Pam saw Paige's dad, he was being a real dick.

has Emily told her mom that Paige isn't a real dick, was Pam at home when Paige came over in 1x20? many possibilities, given that Pam is not confused or disturbed by the phone call claim

Emily you could have said any random swim teammate

I still really like the Aria-Jenna scene, that Aria's forced to listen to what Jenna lost and that Jenna is tricked into revealing this vulnerability to one of the liars - very pretty lighting here too

Hanna's plot is kinda whatever to me these episodes, it's her parents flirting, Mona, Lucas

I like that she and Lucas are friends again already, but I am doubtful of her strategy in getting Lucas a date. love him and Caleb being bros though, I wonder what Caleb wanted from the hardware store

When A was petting the dog all I could think was that in a darker show, A would've snapped that dog's neck at the end of it...

Pam talks to Emily about her sexuality again after looking at Emily's kid stuff and that makes Emily tear up the forged letter - I forgot that Pam brings it up of her own accord here, and it is nice that don't have it be and all settled thing after yelling at Nick McCullers

was distracted in the whole car scene about the forged letter because (1) is this the first hanna-aria-emily scene we get where it's not because spencer is off somewhere else getting almost murdered? (2) hanna somehow thinks emily's forgery skills can get her into harvard. hanna wants emily to re-use a stamp from an old letter she has. hanna what the hell

[queenaeducan]

Gale + 5, 8, 12, 19!

What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Would That I by Hozier. It's not the only song of his that deals with break ups/new love that I have on my Gale playlist, but I think it's my favourite for him in a romanced playthrough. The imagery of the current love as fire setting wood to the tree of his past relationship pairs nicely with "With you I forget my goddess." The fact that it's nature imagery in general works well with Ophelia. I like to think of it as a controlled burn to help the forest flourish. To my knowledge it's not the exact intended meaning of the song, but it's what I get from it.

What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I don't go for six pack Gale, but I like to think he lost weight during his year in the tower and only starts to put it back on through the game and beyond.

What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Gale is an incredibly sweet person whose flaws lead him to some pretty dark places. He is quite eager to help and make himself useful, whether it's making dinner or almost all of his greetings being some form of "how can I help?" whether you barely know each other or you're the love of his life.

I do think there's an ugly side to that. He doesn't do things just to make himself useful, but because he wants recognition. He wants to be thought of, to be remembered. There's a small section of A Study of Hands I enjoyed writing after his resurrection in Act 1, when he's glad to have caused Ophelia grief because it gives his life (and death) some semblance of meaning:

Ophelia’s face is a stone mask, aggressive in its impassivity. A trait he typically admires, and takes as good cause to heed her wise counsel, feels suddenly cruel. Unfair? Oh, most certainly. But a crueller part within him took heart when it saw how her eyes were puffed with tears. It wanted her to weep for him. It wanted to know he will be missed.

I think, as much as fear of a godless death motivates his suicide mission, he's also motivated by the desire to go out in such a way that he'll be remembered.

So like, is there something admirable in how he wants to be useful? That he wants to become a god to help people? Yes, but there is performance in it as well, and performances are done with the desire to be recognised. There's a selfish side to it that's a little ugly but very interesting!

And I think that darkness/pettiness is sometimes forgotten and that is what I don't like. Although reading back over what I wrote I think I mostly just wanted to talk about it rather than discuss its place in fandom.

How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

Like with Solas, I like most of his relationships just fine. Do I think they're all good for him? No, but that's why I like them.

For example, I find his relationship with not just Mystra but Elminster a little questionable. I don't go with the interpretation that Gale met Mystra when he was still a child, but he does canonically know one of Mystra's Chosen from a young age (I don't want to look up the letter rn, but it was six or eight when he met Elminster). It's just a deeply weird situation. Mystra's Chosen are a little fucked. I'm not sure how much of it is intended canon (specifically on larian's part) and what was inherited from DND lore, but it's just like. You look at it and go "this is weird right???" because, well, it is weird.

While Elminster disagrees with her charge for Gale to die, he also won't really budge beyond that to any more meaningful criticisms of her. And while I think he's right that "fuck Mystra" is as deeply unwise a philosophy as listening to her in regards to her plan for the Orb, the particular line he spouts speaks to his own shortcomings as Chosen.

But like I said, I think it's interesting and wouldn't say I don't like it on a narrative level. I do wish it were more consistently written I guess?

[multi-lefaiye]

hi hi multi! I was wondering if I could get a ramble about some of your favourite dating sims? the stream the other day was v fun ^-^

oh hi hi hello logan!!! :D yeah sure!!! i love talking about dating sims ASDFJKL; i just think they're neat <3

so i think i'll talk about like. a few dating sims i love, some things i like about them, and then my favorite route(s).

fair warning, some of these games have some triggering content! i'll try not to go into detail, and i probably won't go into specifics, but still! fair warning.

1 - star days

okay so the one i was playing on stream was called star days, made by the artist pacthesis! she doesn't make games anymore and unfortunately has taken her games off the internet, but i have this one and my other favorite of hers saved <3

star days is about a group of people from different universes coming together to journey to a mythical place called The Constellations, with the intent of resurrecting people they've loved and lost.

it's less about the romance and more about the grief counseling. like the dating is fun but everyone's MOVING ON!!!

all the characters (except cil) are endearing to me in their own ways, but my favorite endings:

platonic ending - the main characters all find reasons to live and move on and remain best friends, going on adventures together and exploring other universes and beyond.

quoto - quoto is just the perfect man- idk i just think he's super sweet?? like the themes around his storyline are a lot about the importance (or lack thereof) in appearances and i think that's just neat.

vanni - MOVING ON AFTER A TRAGEDY AND FINDING REASONS TO LIVE AFTER LOSING IT ALL... MWAH MWAH.

--

2 - number days

so this is another pacthesis game! actually the last one she completed in full before leaving the internet for a while.

ANYWAY the premise around this one is that a group of people who visit a new amusement park that opens one day and end up mysteriously trapped inside, with no one else around. they each receive mysterious text messages from an unknown number saying this: "your time here will run out when your number reaches zero." and from that moment on, their phones display a number between 0 and 100.

it's SUCH an interesting game to me with really cool storylines imo!!! like it's definitely aged a little poorly, but i think it's a fascinating narrative. even romance aside, i love the characters and i genuinely can't pick a favorite.

this is also the other pacthesis game i have archived so we can play this on stream as well :3c

in terms of favorite routes.... i think my favorite one is arlo's route. it makes me so so sad and it's so so sweet and it really hammers homes these themes of like... loneliness and self love and acceptance. it's good shit. also arlo's just a cutie, even if he's kind of a weirdo <3

the platonic ending here is also a delight!!! though i don't remember all the details about it except that it made me cry the first time i got it <3

--

3 - mystic messenger

ohhh i could say so much about this game. it definitely has a lot of issues, especially in its writing (and especially in its portrayal of mental health and specifically more stigmatized disorders), but god i was fixated on this game for YEARS. i've played it so many times.

mystic messenger is a dating sim that follows real-time, each run taking place over the course of 11 days. the basic premise is that the player ends up joining a secret charity organization called the RFA, and as they work with this group they slowly start to uncover more and more of its secrets.

one thing i love about mysmes is that, like.... to get the full picture, you do have to do every character's route. every character's storyline reveals a little more of the story, to the point that i actually have a recommended order i give people for doing the routes if they play this X3 it also has a ton of different endings to explore!

the only downside is that uh. it's a time commitment. if you don't keep up with the game you can get a *real* nasty ending. and this game also gets dark as FUCK at times, like the player can die and so can most of the love interests-

anyway i love all the characters in this game for the most part, so it's hard to pick a favorite! 707 is a huge comfort character for me, though, and his route means so much to me. it really hits home with me personally in so many ways.

even though i always tell people to do his route last ASDFJKL;

--

4 - mechat

ok i just wanna give an honorary mention to mechat b/c that's the one i'm playing right now- fair warning, though, this game is SIGNIFICANTLY more nsfw than the other two here!!!! like. holy fuck. do not check this out if you're a minor or otherwise not interested in spicy content. (though i think the adult content can be turned off in settings.)

mechat is fun because it's like... fictional tinder. you can match with as many characters as you'd like and explore their storylines. not all of them are fun, but they're all interesting imo.

my favorite so far is shion b/c he's a beautiful man with long red hair who has several warrants out for his arrest and takes you on a date to do arson together. what a guy <3

i also love the sheer confidence this game has in never explaining the supernatural elements. like yeah some of these characters are regular ass people. some of them are demons. some are aliens. some are cryptids. deal with it.

another thing that's interesting to me about mechat is that some characters have counterparts with alternate designs and names--the storylines don't change, but you can swap 'em out if you don't like their faces i guess.

--

5 - monster prom series

so i have yet to play these games by myself but i've played all of them with friends and my partner and just??? so fun??? i love it. they're so fun and interesting and delightful. these games have a special place in my heart, both for the sheer silliness and wacky hijinks and the memorable characters! also the queerness all throughout them.

i also do love that in the first game there's a storyline centering around one of the potential love interests being aroace and talking about like. boundaries and consent and becoming really good friends with them rather than dating them or seducing them. i've heard some complaints about how this storyline is handled, but tbh i think it's fun <3

i have a hard time picking favorites in this series, but i love calculester so so much <333 and milo <3333333 and moss mann <3333

--

anyway yeah these are some of my favorite dating sims!! there are some i may be forgetting but ye i love these <3

[lonestardust]

I'm so confused about tarlos going to couples counselling lol and I don't know what to expect when they're quite in a good place!

also "i know for a fact they can't repeat with tarlos the mess that was 1x05 with grace and judd" GOD why are you reminding us i hate that storyline so much lol. like really really hate it. It was so unfair to Judd

It's very unexpected indeed, because the main expectation was that we might see carlos going to those grief counselling sessions or something similar. That's why I'm having hard time imagining carlos&tk reaching a point where they'd need couples therapy when they never had those underlying deep issues of not being understanding or not being willing to understand and listen to one another especially when one of them is going through a hard time and offering whatever the other needs in order to keep going. And they've been through so much together in the past and they always manage to come through together and sort everything out. So I'm curious to see how a grief rooted issue would lead them there.. especially because as you said they're in good place now since last season of course and and have been for a the last three episodes so to have this spiral fast is.. something, maybe we're gonna get flashbacks? we'll see.

And DON'T GET ME STARTED ON 1x05 PLEASE I hate it with a passion too. the writing was so bad and so out of character for Grace ™️ who is actually not this kind of insensitive person at all as we got to know her throughout the seasons.

the way trauma and grief were dealt with here was callous and unfair to Judd. The way Grace lashes out at him because she has needs too. even if he doesn't feel up to it. As if anyone under any circumstances is entitled to sex being attended to without it being 100% consensual. And to have this happen while she knows everything judd is going through is just soooo- it makes me want to shot my tv and scream. and i HATE that judd was actually very open with her because it just makes it even worse. He was honest with her about his very normal emotional and psychological wounds of this very traumatic grief and telling her he's out of sorts with his emotions and that it's not about her. yet she.. ugh

[fingertipsmp3]

I’ve been watching a lot of paranormal documentaries lately and decided to write out all the experiences I’ve had that I can’t adequately explain. Will add a cut because I feel some of these stories could get long, also, if I have theories about what could’ve happened I’ll add them.

First experience: when I was 5 or 6 years old (no older than 6 because we moved out of the house this happened in when I was 6), I was in bed trying to go to sleep when I suddenly heard a lot of voices in my head, overlapping, like someone had put on many radios all tuned to different stations. I don’t remember hearing music and I couldn’t make out any words, although I specifically remember several of the voices sounded angry and were shouting, which really scared me.

I ran to get my mum and tried to explain to her what was happening to me, but the craziest thing about this was, I couldn’t hear myself or her talking. Real sounds that were happening around me were drowned out by the cacophony in my head. My mum tried to comfort me as best she could and came back to my room with me, sitting with me until I fell asleep. I remember the voices continuing for a long period of time, which felt like ages to my child’s mind but was probably no longer than half an hour ultimately. I cried myself to sleep and when I woke up, the voices were gone. They’ve never returned, thank god.

Theories: my mum thinks it was a migraine, but I don’t really get them and have never had auditory hallucinations to this extent while experiencing one. I think it could either have been an auditory hallucination the likes of which I’ve never experienced before or since, or a one-off non-epileptic seizure. (I do experience short auditory hallucinations when I’m about to fall asleep, but they’re never more than 1-2 words or a sequence of music maybe 10 seconds long.) I remember at the time honestly feeling like someone had tuned me in to a frequency where I was hearing the thoughts of every human on earth.

Second experience: My dad died in May 2007. The song All Summer Long by Kid Rock came out in October 2007 on an album, and was released as a single in March 2008. But me and my dad used to listen to this song together in his car no later than the summer of 2004. I don’t have a good explanation for how this came to be. My dad used to drive me to my swimming lessons, which stopped when I was about 8 years old, and I always asked him to play “the Sweet Home Alabama” song. He knew this wasn’t the song by Lynyrd Skynyrd but the song by Kid Rock, because I really liked the lyric “singing Sweet Home Alabama all summer long”.

My dad couldn’t seem to play this song on demand, so I don’t think we had it on tape, but it seems like it was fairly consistently on the radio, because we listened to it at least 3 or 4 times. My dad wasn’t a Kid Rock fan at all, he was a classic rock n’ roll guy; he wouldn’t have owned a Kid Rock album or single. One thing I do find kind of interesting is that listening to this song again, I remember the melody being a bit different, faster, and being sung by a different voice. But it’s a Kid Rock original, not a cover, so I don’t know how that could be.

Theories: All Summer Long is a cover, and the original is lost to time. Or, I’m misremembering, but I swear to god I’m not. My mum asked if we could’ve been hearing Sweet Home Alabama instead, but I was adamant that when my dad put on that song I said “no! Not that one!” So I knew the difference. For me, this is classic Mandela Effect, or a timeslip involving the radio. Maybe even a dimensional thing, I don’t know. I wish someone with a good memory had been in the car with me and my dad, but it was just us.

Third experience: Now this is the one even my card-carrying skeptic mum can’t explain. When I was 13 I was in grief counselling for my dad’s death. My counsellor concluded that a lack of closure, the fact I hadn’t been able to say goodbye, was a pretty big point of agony for me, so he came up with the idea for me and my mum to go to the crematorium where we’d scattered my dad’s ashes and let some balloons go with a message for him. (I know now that balloon releases are a really bad idea for the environment, but I didn’t know that at the time.)

We did it that same day. We didn’t tie a message to the balloons but when I let them go, I thought “I miss you. I love you” or something along those lines. The crematorium has pretty big grounds, not just a memorial garden but a large field and many trees. We’d walked all the way across that field to get to the tree we’d scattered my dad’s ashes near. It was a nice day, the grass was bright green, freshly cut. I mention this because when we turned around to walk back (we’d only been standing at the tree for two minutes or less), the field before us was absolutely blanketed with white feathers. You couldn’t not notice, they were everywhere. It was something neither me nor my mum could explain. How could the feathers have fallen without getting on either of us? How could they have fallen in the first place? We’d have noticed, say, a seagull massacre going on right above our heads. It was like they didn’t fall, they just appeared.

Theories: yeah, I have nothing. My mum said “message received and understood”. I think my dad sent them.

Smaller incidents:

My grandma taught me to knit when I was 10, about a year later, she bought me my own pair of knitting needles, my first pair I wouldn’t be borrowing from her. I was really happy with them and wanted to cast on right away, but when I set them down, they disappeared. Not right before my eyes, but I swear I left the room for about ten seconds to get yarn and they were gone. We tore the house apart looking for them. My grandma has a very small house and she keeps it extremely clean and tidy, yet those needles have never shown up. Not even when the carpeting in the room I lost them in was replaced. I don’t know what happened here. If a house spirit has my 3.5mm navy blue plastic needles, I want them back.

Used to smell my dad’s cigar smoke and aftershave all around my childhood home and occasionally hear his footsteps on the stairs for years after he died. It stopped when I was around 16.

From the ages of 12-13 whenever I was alone in the house I’d hear scratching and banging sounds and footsteps. It terrified me. It was only when I was alone. I genuinely thought I was being targeted by a demon (having recently watched Paranormal Activity probably didn’t help.) When my mum told me the only person associated with our house who’d died was my dad, it all seemed to stop. It was like it stopped because I wasn’t scared of it anymore. It makes me wonder if I somehow created the phenomena with my mind. Teen girl telekinesis?

[briamichellewrites]

92

Hey, I’m in Cambridge for a week. I’ll let you know when I’m back in LA. I just want to be transparent with you, so I don’t lead you on. I recently started dating a friend and I want to stay committed to him. I still want to have a friendship with you but that’s all it’s going to be. – Bria

Brad thanked her for being honest with him. He appreciated it and he hoped that whoever she was dating would treat her well. Why was she in Cambridge? Was she visiting her new boyfriend? It was a long story that she would tell him in person. They made plans to meet up after she returned home. Jason didn’t mind her hanging out with other guys while he was away. He had applied to an internship at Reed Hilderbrand LLC Landscape Architecture firm in Cambridge.

He was waiting to hear back from them. Two more years. It was going by so fast. He felt nervous about going out into the “real world.” Could he do it? He hoped so. His professors were teaching him everything he needed to know. He worked too damn hard to quit. Because his family was located in LA, he hoped to find a job there since he wanted to stay close to them.

Bria was also in LA. She was going to get the pictures she was taking developed when she got back. Some pictures were taken under the influence of alcohol. She got a little drunk at the party. That was okay since he also got a little drunk. Thank god they walked to the party! She had a genuinely good time. He watched her as she talked to everyone like they were old friends. It was one of the many things he loved about her. She was so outgoing and friendly. Like him.

She also didn’t take herself too seriously. They needed to talk about the miscarriage, so he asked if they could do that. Yeah, it was better to get it over with. He was going to get emotional but he didn’t care if she saw him crying. It was his baby who died. He thought about what he would do if she gave birth. Even though he was miles away, he would do whatever it took to be a good father.

It would be hard but he was not raised to walk away from responsibility. His parents would disown him. Mike would verbally kick his ass. The Shinoda family was huge with multiple aunts, uncles, and cousins, along with grandparents. They were very close to each other. He imagined them calling him up and giving him a tongue-lashing! Would he attend grief counseling? Yes, it sounded like a great idea. His grief would only interfere with his studies.

She cried and admitted that she felt horrible. He saw how she was holding herself together. She was putting on a face while out in public because she didn’t want to tell strangers about what happened. Was she talking to someone? Yes, she was working through everything in therapy. She was going to get a memorial tattoo. They thought about if they should give their baby a name.

His middle name was Aoki, though Japanese culture didn’t give their children middle names. That was more of an American tradition. To follow his family’s tradition of giving their children an American first name and then a Japanese middle name, they decided on May Aomi. The first and middle names were beautiful. He found a piece of paper he wasn’t using and wrote the name in Japanese characters. She would get it tattooed.

“What do you want?”

Mike would never understand cats. They were always meowing at him for something! The dogs were easier to translate. Woody was at his feet meowing. He looked up at him as he looked down. Food, human! Donna jokingly asked him if he wanted a cat. No, he preferred dogs. Woody went over to his food bowl and pawed at it. Feed me!

He noticed there was still food in his bowl, so she had him shake it a little. There. Now he was happy again. As happy as a cat could be. After getting the okay from Bria, he invited his parents over to her place. They had been waiting to see it. It was very well done! Jason did a great job on it! Her room was a little messy, but that was because she pulled things out while packing. It was a last-minute decision to go, so she didn’t have time to put everything away.

That was fine. Houses were not always clean. How many handbags did she have?

“Way too many. Guess as to how much everything in here costs”, he asked.

“Hundreds of dollars “, Muto guessed.

“That’s just the clothes. Altogether, everything in here costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. She’s going to come back with more stuff because she loves shopping.”

“That’s enough to buy a house!”

Yeah, but she could afford it! Her clothes, shoes, handbags, and other accessories were all very well taken care of. They all had a place. Her clothes were either neatly folded or hung on hangers. She had drawers full of her underwear and her shoes were lined up on the floor, so she could see them. Her bedroom had pictures of herself with her parents when she was younger.

In one picture, she was in front of the Eiffel Tower with who they assumed was her mother. She looked like a miniature version of her. Mike couldn’t remember her name because she didn’t talk about her parents that much. It was too difficult for her emotionally. What happened to them? They were killed in a car accident. The other driver was under the influence of drugs and alcohol. How old was she? She was eighteen years old.

She inherited everything from them. Muto pointed out a picture of them with Jason and Joe. They were in front of IMG World of Adventure. Yeah. She asked another tourist if they could take their picture. Bark! They turned around to see Buddy and Missy with smiles on their faces. Donna asked if they could be in there.

Oh, yeah. They were free to roam around the house. The only place that was off-limits was the pool. She was terrified of them falling in and drowning, especially if she wasn’t there. He brought them down to where the indoor pool was and they noticed the glass door. The only time they could use the pool was when she or someone else was swimming. That was a very smart idea! He brought them to the studio. It was where they hung out.

He pointed out the intercom system and how it worked. It was very convenient for her because she didn’t have to be running around the house. She could just buzz people in. There was an intercom in every room, even the pool room. They were very impressed.

With such a big house, she would need an intercom system. They would need an intercom system. What was she using the barn for? She was using it for storage at the moment. Her initial plan was to get a couple of horses. She then realized she was way over her head and she needed to do more research. In the future, she might adopt them.

She had a two-bedroom, one-bathroom guest apartment over the garage. He didn’t know if anyone had stayed there. Maybe Jon had, but he wasn’t sure. Muto mentioned how proud he was of Jason for designing the house. They agreed! He did a great job! They were happy they got to see it! He encouraged them to reach out to her. She didn’t have any living family members. They wanted to meet her, so they would do that.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[ge-anne]

Becoming

I thought my life would never recover after my divorce. The time period after I moved from what had been “our” home and family structure and learned to be on my own again was full of anguish, heartache, the pain of rejection, and necessitated that I deal with some unbeknownst (and previously denied) issues in my own life: things like attachment issues, codependency, and people pleasing.

The Lord was good to me…sending people to walk beside me and to accompany me on this journey. In a matter of months, I had gained a deeper appreciation for those who “show up” as Christian brothers and sisters and was able to identify those who simply send well wishes and offer to pray, preferring not to see or deal with the discomfort of others. 

My closest friend during this time was a Christian brother whom I now call “LilBro”. His prayers, conversations, encouragement, and challenges when I needed them taught me that there ARE people whose word can be trusted. As our friendship formed into a kinship, there were so many teaching moments that the Holy Spirit used both to show me that God’s love surpassed the world’s love and that His people are often called to be His hands and feet in the lives of others. Bro became my teacher at times, and it was through this friendship that I learned healthy love and boundaries. 

My small group leader during this time was also a huge encouragement. A worshiper at heart, he would often send a song that God used in that exact moment to reach my broken or struggling heart. The other small group members were so compassionate and more than willing to step into this season of my life and walk beside me as I processed not only the grief of the moment, but the years lost to my delay in ending what had been a very toxic relationship.

Counseling also made a huge impact. My first counselor, who specialized in codependency and understood trauma was a wonderful mentor and through her work, I found my femininity again. This time, it no longer felt like a weakness, but a place of safety and a place of strength.

Returning to my home church was a process that took a few months. Church hurt is real and I had to allow the Lord to both convict and console me through the healing process that had to occur. I am thankful to have had pastors who met with me during this time and who helped me process my pain and fears, but who also showed me a path to reconciliation and affirmed the Lord’s work in my life.

Slowly, I am learning to release my need for control. God’s plan for me really IS better and more rich than anything I could have imagined. I was willing to settle for a life of single parenting in a Christian community, but He had already made a way for me to experience a full, healthy, and Godly marriage with a man who had lost his marriage due to his wife’s untimely death.

Trusting in an institution where I had clearly failed so many times before was also a process. Knowing that I must be radically dependent upon the Holy Spirit and the body of Christ is no longer a burden, but something I view as a privilege and an honor. I understand that as much as I need people, I, also, am needed. 

I started this series by sharing how the women’s ministry at our church, “The Becoming” had opened the door to healing for me. The Becoming has played a part in our group as well. One year after my first visit, I volunteered to help greet people at the December gathering as did some of the others in our small group. The “table talk” extended into chats in the hallway at church and more friends were made. 

As we planned the spring gathering, one of the women who had befriended me many years ago and I were asked to be speakers. What a joy to get to share our stories with one another and reminisce about how far the Lord had carried us over the past decade or more!

Our theme was on the trustworthiness of God. We both shared how in our darkest moments, we’d found faith and presence. When I shared how, in my pain and disappointment, I had sworn I would never return to some place, I smiled and mouthed the words “Like here!” as I pointed to the stage. But God! Then, I recognized the sound from the audience….They were clapping.

He. Loves. Us.

Loves you.

Loves me.

And He is the Great Shepherd who WILL leave the 99 to bring his lost, wandering, scared sheep home to the fold. 

Thanks be to God!

May God continue to bless our community and our lives to His service. May the world around us know we are His by the way we show His deep, deep love.

[tallmantall]

James Donaldson on Mental Health - Financial hardship can aggravate mental illness, but there’s help for those in crisis

By Annalisa Burgos This Mental Health Awareness Month, advocates are urging to consider how financial stress can aggravate mental illness. Their message comes in the wake of the Manoa tragedy and as Lahaina wildfire survivors continue to try to rebuild their lives. For the Culhane family, the loss of their patriarch 12 years ago changed their lives forever. “It’s been hard for us to say the word suicide because there’s so much stigma and shame and condemnation, and it’s definitely not what I want to remember my husband for because he had so many other amazing things,” said wife Sara Culhane. Culhane says her husband, Tom, started to struggle with mental illness two years before his death —due to money, social pressure and his own unresolved childhood trauma. “He was really good with the kids. But I know just in his spirit, maybe not feeling enough,” she said. “He was worried we purchased a home on the Big Island at the height of the market. And then the big crash happened in 2008. So he was concerned, we owed more than what the house was worth. Just that hopelessness that he must have felt.” She said they sought medical help. “So a lot of trips to the doctors. A lot of try this medication, try this medication and nothing seemed to be working,” Culhane added. Then one day, she found Tom on the beach. He had taken too much medication and never woke up. James was 9. Sophia 6. Culhane said she didn’t tell them at first. “How do you tell your children that dad committed suicide?” she said. “We never understand why. That’s between Tom and God.” “I didn’t know if that was his intention. I don’t think I’ll ever know,” said Culhane, who worried about how her children would process the suicide. “You don’t want to put that same fear onto them. That’s probably even the hardest part of walking through and not understanding completely why but also not wanting that fear of Sophia or James thinking that mental health runs possibly in our family.” The family turned to faith and resources like non-profit Kids Hurt Too, which offers counseling, peer support groups, mentoring and activities for families dealing with grief. “This was a big part of the healing journey just being around other kids that have also gone through loss or just challenges in general and not feeling that they were alone,” Culhane said. Mental health experts say talking openly about financial hardship can help break a cycle of hopelessness and reduce the stigma. “We are there to be the safe space for them and to be the kind and caring shoulder that they can come to,” said Walker Rowsey, Kids Hurt Too executive director. “Our culture can be very hesitant to discuss money or financial stress, there’s a lot of pressure to be the best that we can right? ... And that pressure can often lead to shame for those that don’t have it,” Rowsey added. “Research shows that financial crisis financial hardship, houselessness are massive risk factors for suicidal ideation and suicide attempts.” Rowsey lost his own mother to suicide from financial stress during the 2008 global financial crisis. He says if she had shared her struggle with others, perhaps she would have found another way. “She would have felt that much less pressure to perform and to be successful financially, she would have known that she couldn’t have done very much to better her situation because the entire planet was in freefall at that point,” he said. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space.  #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleFind out more about the work I do on my 501c3 non-profit foundationwebsite www.yourgiftoflife.org Order your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com Link for 40 Habits Signupbit.ly/40HabitsofMentalHealth If you'd like to follow and receive my daily blog in to your inbox, just click on it with Follow It. Here's the link https://follow.it/james-donaldson-s-standing-above-the-crowd-s-blog-a-view-from-above-on-things-that-make-the-world-go-round?action=followPub Rowsey says loved ones are often left with feelings of abandonment and guilt. “It’s not their fault. There isn’t anything that they personally could have done to change situation. It was an illness, and we need to treat it as such. And think of it as such. Also, a lot of these family members can get strong with abandonment. And again, that goes back to it’s not a choice, it was not a choice for them. They were very, very sick. They were not abandoning the family in any way, or their loved ones in any way. They just succumb to the illness,” Rowsey explained. Rowsey says during current economic times, he’s seeing more families devasted by mental illness. “No one ever chooses to kill themselves. It is always inherently a mental illness. It is always inherently a sickness. A healthy brain does not have suicidal ideation,” he explained. “More people are struggling in this state than aren’t,” he said.” We really need to normalize this experience, because it is the norm here.” “When we keep these things inside, they manifest in different ways,” Culhane said. “And like God says, you need to bring it to the light to be able to heal that that darkness so I’m always to the kids it’s okay not to be okay. And it’s okay to talk about to talk about it.” Those with suicidal thoughts may justify it as a way to help loved ones, but the opposite is true -- causing more trauma. “It’s just a transfer of pain,” Culhane said. “So the pain that they’re feeling that, that they feel that is the only solution to whatever the problems are ... all it does is transfer their pain to the people that are left behind.” Along with feelings of abandonment and guilt. “It’s not going to bring him back. I don’t think it’s anybody’s fault. I couldn’t have done anything different,” Culhane said. “My faith, I think, is what keeps me going from day to day. It’s not not easy as a single mom, and not easy walking this story.” “Having that community that you can go to, I think is the key and not being isolated and being by yourself,” she added. Along with loss, joy, too. Daughter Sophia, now 18, is one of the youngest world champions in longboarding and she’s giving back to the community that helped her. “We see daddy in rainbows so anytime it gets hard, God puts a rainbow in the sky. But there’s a rainbow on every single board that that she has,” Culhane said. “He’s with her on every single wave.” RESOURCES If you or someone you know is experiencing a mental health crisis, call or text 9-8-8. Read the full article

[waynes-multiverse]

Aaaah this chapter had so many awesome gems! I loved it! 😍💎

Denise is so sweet and caring 🥹 I love that she's the reader's aunt, too, and that there is a straight connection to Cassie and everyone

And I had a feeling when grief counseling was mentioned that she'd run into Beau 😁

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

Hahaha I loved that little easter egg to Smoke Eater! I haven't gotten far in that series yet, but even I understood that one ���👏

“Let’s go around, introduce ourselves, and share something interesting.

Oh God, my worst nightmare whenever someone suggests that 😂 I'm with the reader on that one: is watching TV interesting enough? lol

Beau’s brows rose as his lips twitched upwards.

Ooop, someone likes himself a professor 😏 (Thank God she's English Lit and not Paleontology 😆)

“Do you think you have the right man?” you asked, speaking of Walter.

I honestly have such a soft spot for Walter 🥺 (Also, Seth Gabel is such a good actor 👀) I didn't like Paige because I thought she was taking advantage of him. I was surprised to find out in the end she actually had feelings for him. That kinda came out of the left field 😅

And I totally understand why reader feels guilty over Mary's death, but it really wasn't her fault. I hope she can forgive herself at some point ❤️

“Just a couple months before the wedding, I found out he’d been cheating on me with his college girlfriend…pretty much throughout our whole relationship,” you said.

Jesus effing Christ! No wonder she's so upset and wanted to move 🙈 What a giant ass-douchface her ex-fiance was. Honestly, that scum doesn't deserve her tears...

I absolutely loved their little get-to-know coffee date! 🫶 It was exactly what they both needed. Let's be honest, their past meetings were a bit awkward, considering the circumstances (tete-a-tetes with new husbands and murder investigations) 🤣

He offered you a napkin. “Sorry it’s not a tissue.”

I snorted 😂

Cassie and Jenny shared a certain look—the kind these women donned when they were having a private conversation with just their eyes. This time, it seemed to be about him.

Gaaaah, I felt through Jenny throughout this chapter. I got all the little hints you dropped and loved the way you described her silent pain 💔

“Crazy, Stupid Love,” Jenny grinned, holding up the DVD cover. “For Ryan Gosling, of course.”

This is my favorite movie, btw. I just watched it last week again lmao 🤣❤️

“Okay now, just pivot on this corner,” he instructed. “Pivot!”  Jenny nearly dropped her end out of sheer aggravation. Her blue eyes cut down to his. “If you say pivot one more time, I’m gonna shoot you,” she snapped.

I DIED!!! 🤣🤣🤣

“Threatening to shoot the sheriff.

Zep, it's too much! You're killing me 🤣💀

And did you have to make that hunk of a man move furniture? And SWEAT???? Dear fucking Lord, I-I- I'm not alive anymore. Pretty sure, yep... 🥵💦 (I was full with Denise with this one. And I could just imagine her gloriously shameless face the whole time as she thirsted over him 😆)

“Okay, cowboy. Let’s ride,” you said. And you even surprised yourself with the flirtatious note in your voice.

Wooohooo! Are we having another date? 👀 Welp, if she's not getting on a horse for Cormac, maybe Beau will actually do it for her 😝

Can't wait for all the riding... I mean horse riding next chapter! 😏😍🤍

Take Me Home - Part 3

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

AN: I’m being continuously blown away by your lovely responses on this story. Thank you so much! I truly appreciate all the love for our cowboy sheriff and where TMH is going.

Word Count: 6.6K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, a heart-to-heart, flirtations, and invitations taken…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 3: Welcome Home

In the next twenty-four hours after Mary was found, the police’s investigation led them to a man named Walter. He’d been living in the woods, and was suspected of stalking the camp for days. 

He was arrested as a prime suspect in Mary’s murder at Sunny Day Excursions, along with Paige’s; even though they’d yet to find her body, the police did confirm that she'd never made it home to New York.

They also found Luke later that night. His body was pierced to a tree by an archer’s arrow. 

The campers were sent home shortly after Walter was arrested. 

And three days later, your aunt Denise gingerly took a seat on the edge of the couch you’d been lying in all day (and all week so far). She swept her fingers over your greasy hair in both comfort and affection. 

Denise Brisbane was your mom’s sister. She was a private investigator here in Helena. And as you found out, she actually worked with Cassie Dewell, the woman you’d met at the camp, who was still in search of a missing backpacker.

“You’ve barely moved in days, honey,” Denise said.

Her face was sympathetic and sad, watching you. Though you felt the sting of guilt, feeling like a burden that had just been unloaded on your aunt, you didn’t want to leave your warm blankets. Your body felt heavy and useless.

“Good news though. The rest of your stuff ships in tomorrow,” she said, continuing to pet your hair. “I’ll help you move into your new apartment. How does that sound?”

You gave a weak nod. “Thanks.”

She sighed. “I’m not trying to kick you out, hun. I just think it’ll be good for you to start getting on your feet.”

You agreed, wordlessly. In your head, you knew she was right. You couldn’t sleep on her couch forever, and perhaps more importantly, you couldn’t let this beat you down forever.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Denise asked, squeezing your shoulder. “Your mom wanted to get the first flight out here, but I told her I’d take care of you until you go home for the funeral.”

You were grateful for that. As much as you loved your mother, you didn’t want to be smothered right now. Your mom’s version of comfort could only include a heavy dose of smothering. The one thing you had been able to do was call Mary’s parents.

That had been a long and painful conversation. After which, you slept like the dead for two days straight.

Denise broke you out of your wandering thoughts when she handed you a business card. It had a banyan tree emblazoned on it, along with the name of a grief counseling center.

“Cassie’s actually been going here, and she’s liked it so far,” she said.

At your furrowed look of confusion, she added, “Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me, but I think it would be good for you to talk to someone. Maybe someone who understands what you’re going through.”

You sighed and flipped the card through your fingers. You really, really didn’t want to go. You could already what your father would say if he knew you went to a grief counselor. His form of “therapy” was the growing collection of bourbon behind his desk.   

But if it meant you’d stop being a lump in your aunt’s living room, then maybe you could give it a shot.

“Okay,” you nodded. Your voice was a bit coarse with disuse. Denise gave you a smile, and a warm hug that felt like home. She even offered to make your appointment for you.

You were a little annoyed though. Now you’d have to actually get up and put on a bra.

“Maybe shower first, huh?” she advised, while she helped you get up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied.

A hot shower, washing and styling your hair, putting real clothes on, and overall making yourself presentable actually made you feel human again. You even surprised yourself by putting on a bit of makeup.

Once you made it to the grief counseling center in your car, however, you sat in the parking lot for a minute. You had to take a moment to breathe. Because you knew you were going to be asked what happened. You were going to have to get into it all over again.

Even after you were able to leave your car and brave through the carpeted halls of the building, your hands were shaking. At the reception desk, an older woman directed you down another long hallway to the group session. It was the only one available on short notice, but she promised that if you found the session helpful, she could help you book another group session, or even a solo session.

You weren’t sure if you were ready for “solo,” but a group appealed to you. Maybe you could just sit in the back and let the others talk.

The counselor, Tom, greeted you when you walked into the right room. It was a small room with a bunch of chairs formed in a circle at the center. No room to hide, you thought with growing unease. You glanced over and saw that there were a few people already milling about, making small talk in a cluster near the circle.

“We’re gonna start here in a few minutes, but until then, you can take a seat,” said Tom. “There’s also coffee and cookies over there, if you like.”

Coffee. Coffee was warm, and it might settle your nerves and help you perk up a bit. You thanked him and went for the carafes on a small table in the back. You poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and poured a little sugar and creamer into it, but after you took an experimental sip, you immediately regretted it.

Tastes like damn soil water! You made a grossed out sound and spat it back into your cup.

“Yeah, wouldn’t recommend the joe,” drawled a familiar voice. 

You turned sharply to find Sheriff Beau Arlen. He gave you a sympathetic look as he reached for a cup of water. Seeing him took you by such surprise, you gasped with a slight flinch, accidentally spilling some scalding coffee on yourself in the process. 

You held the cup away from you fast, but a few drops still flecked on your jeans, and even his boots. 

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you gasped again. Beau just smiled good-naturedly and grabbed a few napkins off the table.

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m the one who snuck up on you. Accidentally, I might add.”

He handed you the napkins so you could soak up the coffee from your hand and arm. Meanwhile, he took your half-empty coffee cup and tossed it in the garbage. Your damp wad of napkins joined the cup.

And when you finally looked up at him again, you both found yourselves smiling, despite where you were. It was the first time you’d been able to smile in days.

“Sheriff Arlen,” you greeted. “I did not expect to see you here…”

His smile faltered at that, but his hand reached back to sort through his short hair at the back of his head. 

“Ah, call me Beau,” he said. “I have a feeling we’re about to get to know each other better.”

You agreed to that, just as you agreed to join him for a seat within the circle of chairs. He leaned back in his chair and swept a hand through his hair again, perhaps in a nervous gesture. You glanced over at him, saw the way he smoothed a hand down his jeans when his knee started bouncing…

Could he be as anxious as you? You had to wonder why he was here, for grief counseling of all things. The thought sobered you as more people filtered in and took their seats. Tom eventually got things started from his spot across from you in the circle.

“Okay, we’ve got a couple of first timers to this group session, so tell you what,” he said. “Let’s go around, introduce ourselves, and share something interesting. Whether it’s what you do for a living, a new hobby you picked up, or keeping it even more simple, something fun you did this week.”

You looked down at the folded hands in your lap. If binge watching entire seasons of Succession and sleeping until noon every day counted as something fun, then you were all set.

The introductions started to his left, so it took a while before it got around to you. There was that little flutter of nerves in your stomach, like you were a kid again, and it was the first day of school (but worse).

Luckily, Beau was before you. You were curious about what he would share as he let out a subtle clearing of his throat.

“Hi there, I’m Beau Arlen. Some of you know me as the new sheriff over at Helena PD.” He greeted everyone with a short wave, though he tossed you a smiling glance. “You might also be able to tell that I’m from Texas. Born and bred in Houston. I moved up here to stay close to my daughter, who’s living here with her mother…my ex-wife.”

He tacked on that last bit after a slight pause. But he recovered quicker than you could process and gestured to you next. You forced yourself to perk up, putting your “teacher’s hat” on as you tried to meet everyone’s eyes. First, you gave them your name.

“I’m also from out of town, from Chicago,” you said, glancing at Beau. His expression was encouraging. It gave you the small boost you didn’t know you needed. “I’m a college professor, formerly of the University of Chicago…but I start at Caroll College in the fall.”

Beau’s brows rose as his lips twitched upwards. You tried not to blush as you passed on the introductions to the next person.

The session itself was light overall. Tom talked about the stress that often came with the unknown—with moving past a challenging time, or tackling a new project, or even moving to a new and unfamiliar city. He didn’t force everyone to chime in about themselves, but the ones who were ready to share took the floor one by one. And by the end, you thought that you’d gleaned some useful tidbits just by listening.

Hell, maybe you’d even come back here.

When the session was over though, you were kind of relieved. You grabbed your purse and got up to leave.

“Well, that was relatively painless,” Beau said, also getting up from his seat.

“Yeah, wasn’t so bad,” you replied. Your name fell from his lips in the form of a question, earning your expectant gaze.

“Listen, uh, can I buy you a real cup of coffee?” he offered. “We might not have met under the best of circumstances, but I just heard recently that you’re Denise’s niece. Well, I’m friends with the gals over at Dewell & Hoyt, your aunt included, so I just thought it’d be good to get to know each other, being that we’re both kinda new in town, and—”

You set a light hand on his arm. That one touch was able to stop his rambling, along with the sight of your amused smile up at him.

“Coffee sounds great,” you said.

You decided there was no real harm in meeting him at the nearest coffee shop, just a few minutes away.

It was hard not to associate the sheriff with that terrible night at the camp, but you knew that wasn’t fair to him. He seemed like a nice guy, and by the way he talked about his daughter, maybe even a good man.

In your experience, a good man was hard to find.

“So, what do you teach exactly?” Beau asked. He’d just finished telling you about Emily starting a summer internship with Cassie and Denise at the private investigation agency. Like father like daughter, you’d remarked. Beau’s soft, but proud smile had been telling.

“English literature,” you replied to his question, sipping at your cappuccino. He was drinking a hot French vanilla latte, which kind of amused you. You had expected him to order an Americano or something.   

“Oh, yeah? What sort of classes?” he said.  

“The greatest hits, basically,” you explained. “Composition, English grammar, Shakespeare…Twentieth Century British Literature.”

“Oh, is that all?” he chuckled. It charmed a smile out of you. 

“I don’t know why I asked. I didn’t even go to college,” Beau said. It finally succeeded in making you laugh.

“Straight to the police academy, then?” you asked.

“Like a cannonball, heels a blazin’,” he said, miming a gunshot with his hand. 

“Like a rhinestone cowboy,” you teased. And you felt brave enough to hum the riff of the Glen Campbell song. 

Beau shook his head with a grin. He’d seen you, all tightened up and anxious throughout the group session, even though it had been pretty lightweight. He could relate to your discomfort. He’d made a conscious effort to talk very little about himself and gave the others the room to tell their stories.

Beau liked seeing you more relaxed though. He liked your smile, the glimpses of your sense of humor shining through. He liked that he was somehow able to bring that out of you for a while. 

“I still can’t believe you're Denise’s niece,” he said, once again shaking his head. “What a small world.”

“Yeah. I’ve been crashing on her couch for the past week,” you admitted. “But I have the rest of summer to settle into my new apartment, starting tomorrow. I’ve got my whole life shipping in on a truck.”

Beau nodded at that. He contemplated whether it’d be appropriate for him to offer you some help with that. The question was on the tip of his tongue, until he saw the way your mood saddened. You sat contemplating your coffee mug.

“I asked her to come,” you confessed. When your eyes met his, they shone with the beginning of unshed tears. “The camping trip was Mary’s idea, but I asked her to come with me to Helena for the week. She wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

Beau let out a deep breath and met you with a more somber, understanding gaze. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. He was reminded that they had Walter in custody. He wasn’t yet willing to break and confess to the murders at Sunny Day Excursions, but they had him.

“I promise, we’ll get justice for Mary,” Beau added. You sighed and wiped a tear from your cheek.

“Do you think you have the right man?” you asked, speaking of Walter.

“I do,” Beau replied. “He’s being stubborn, but all the evidence points to him.”

You nodded gratefully, but you had to try and breathe through your tumultuous emotions, the way your heart was cracking with pain. You didn’t want to break down in the middle of a damn coffee shop.

Again, Beau wrestled with the inclination to cover his hand over yours. He felt like he was toeing the line between his professional capacity as a sheriff, and the fact that you were his friend’s niece. He wanted to comfort you the best he could. But sometimes, words just weren’t enough.

You took a half-hearted sip of your coffee. By now, it was lukewarm, if still tasty and sweet. It was healthier than whiskey, you supposed.

“She was like…like my sister, you know?” you said. “I feel like I failed her.”

Beau shook his head, his dark brows furrowing. He didn’t know how many times he could say it wasn’t your fault, knowing you probably wouldn’t ever believe it.

That struck a familiar bell.

“Look, I uh…I understand what you’re going through,” he admitted. Your watery gaze found his again. Your head tilted in interest.

He sighed before answering your unspoken question. “I lost my partner on the job, now a couple years back.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, and your sympathy was as genuine as his had been for you. “I’m guessing you two were close.”

Beau’s lips quirked at one corner. “He was like my brother. Matter of fact, I think it used to make my own brother jealous.”

You processed that with a sad frown, though your brows soon rose in curiosity.

“You have a brother?”

“Yep,” Beau nodded. The brief shadows in his eyes lifted at the merciful change of topic. “Good ole’ David. I still call him Davey, even though he hates it.”

A smile played on your lips. “Older or younger?”

“Younger, by a few years,” he replied. There was a more natural gleam to his smile then. “He’s a hotshot doctor back in Houston.”

He teased, but you could see there was pride behind his eyes. It reminded you of the way he got whenever he talked about Emily.

“So you know my story. What brought you to Montana?” he asked. He wanted to see if he could help you get your mind off Mary. He didn’t know that he’d just pulled the pin on a whole other grenade. 

You let out a wry chuckle. 

“Uh, oh,” Beau said warily. 

You nodded. He did tell you his story—ex-wife with a new husband, daughter, a new job in Montana—though you still didn’t know why he was going to grief counseling. If it was because of his partner, you could understand that…but you also didn’t want to pry.

You also knew it was only fair to answer his question.

“It’s not exactly like your situation but…I was engaged,” you said at last. 

Past tense, he noted. 

“Good guy?” he asked. 

“A firefighter,” you replied. Though you knew well the rivalry that sometimes existed between cops and firefighters. Beau’s growing bemusement told you he was thinking along the same lines. 

“Ah, a smoke eater, huh?” But his smile faded. “Did something happen to him on the job?”

“No,” you said, again with that weary chuckle. It was hard for you to get this out, but you’d been wrestling with it for over six months, damn near a year. It was enough. 

“Just a couple months before the wedding, I found out he’d been cheating on me with his college girlfriend…pretty much throughout our whole relationship,” you said. 

Though you promised yourself that you’d never cry over this again, today had already been incredibly difficult. The tears came, and you couldn’t stop them. 

Beau's brows had risen high in surprise. Then, a deeper sympathy settled in his eyes.

“Jesus. How long?” he asked.

“We were together three years, engaged for about another one,” you said. “Almost four years of my life, just…”

You mimed a puff of smoke blowing out of your hand. 

“Yeah. I know the feeling,” Beau said. His tone was wry as he dragged a hand over his beard. You gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry. I know my story doesn’t compare with a marriage,” you said.

“That’s not what I was gettin’ at,” he replied. “But I get it. You start to think, what the hell was it all for? …Except for my daughter.”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I don’t have an Emily,” you said. At the same time though, you were very glad you never had kids with that man.

Beau frowned when he saw the way your face fell further, becoming distant, and lost in old memories. 

“Afterwards, I…I checked out, you know? I could barely focus on my students, my family, my friends.” Your nails drummed on the countertop. You shook your head as it all filtered through your mind again. “But the last straw was that my dad tried to get me to work things out with him, and I just…I lost it. Beau, I absolutely lost my shit.”

Beau grimaced. “What made your dad think that would work?”

“He’s a retired firehouse chief,” you said, with a purse of your lips. “He’s always had a soft spot for Michael.”

“Michael, huh?” Beau quirked a brow. “That come with a last name?”

You shot him a look of amusement. 

“What, are you going to run his LUDS?” you joked, but you couldn’t prevent a sniffle as a new wave of emotion threatened an upswell.

You felt pathetic. This man was the whole-ass sheriff of this town. He probably had more important things to do than listen to you complain about your imploded relationship. But you were also Denise’s niece. Maybe he just felt sorry for you.

He offered you a napkin. “Sorry it’s not a tissue.”

In his eyes though, you didn’t see pity. Just kindness.

“It’s okay. I can brave a scratchy napkin,” you said, laughing a little. “But after that, I knew one of two things was going to happen. Either I was going to break open my dad’s gun safe and shoot the bastard in the ass, or I had to get the hell out of Chicago. My mom and Aunt Denise suggested I come here for a visit, just to clear my head. That turned into scoping out jobs, and then apartments… Now I’m here.”

That fell between you for a moment as your companion processed it all. In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have mentioned that whole bit about possibly shooting your ex, but he took it in stride. 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you are,” Beau said. “Here, that is.”

You couldn’t help but blush; at his words, the deep green of his eyes, and the sincerity of his smile.

“Likewise, Sheriff,” you said.

He smirked. “Also glad you didn’t go shootin’ people in the ass.” 

You covered your face and laughed. 

Beau walked you to your car like the gentleman he was, even though it was only late afternoon. You opened the driver’s side door, but you lingered there. You turned back to him, curling a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thanks for the coffee, and for letting me ramble, and vent, and soak up a few dozen napkins,” you said. You laughed a little in embarrassment, but he waved it off.

“It wasn’t as bad as all that, but good luck movin’ into your apartment tomorrow,” he said. Then it was his turn to hesitate. “If you need some help with that, just let me know.”

You blinked, mouth parting in soft surprise.

“Oh, thank you but…I don’t want to trouble you,” you said.

“You wouldn’t be. That’s why I offered,” he replied, smiling down at you in a way that had you melting a little bit more. “I’ve got an early shift tomorrow, but after, I could probably pull in Cassie. Maybe even Jenny, if she’s up for it. She’s one of our deputies at the PD.”

Beau recognized your hesitance.

“It wouldn’t be any trouble, I promise,” he said, holding a hand over his heart. “We’ve gotta welcome you to the neighborhood, don’t we?”

You were still a little unsure, but you agreed to it with a thank you, along with a more shy, sweet smile.

Beau liked that smile too.

Later that day, Beau remembered it was his turn to host the ritual movie night Friday with Cassie and Jenny. His trailer was too small to have it inside, so they set up Cassie’s projector out in front, by the fire. According to his friends, he was going about the night with too much cheer.

“You’re entirely too smiley to have just come from an afternoon of therapy,” Jenny pointed out. She uncapped her second beer, then passed him the bucket. He waved her off; he was still nursing his first beer of the night. If he stuck to his plan, then it’d be his only beer of the night.

“Aw, it wasn’t so bad, actually,” he said. He explained that you had been there at the group session. The moment your name was mentioned, Cassie and Jenny both raised their brows.

“Really?” Cassie remarked.

“Yeah. Losing her friend really shook her up. Understandably,” Beau said. His gaze lowered when he played through his afternoon with you in his mind. Though your situations were different, both in your lost friends and lost relationships, he realized just how much he’d understood and connected with a near stranger.

That kind of thing didn’t happen to him often, if ever before.

“But, she’s actually moving into her new place tomorrow,” he added, breaking himself out of his own head. “Speakin’ of, would you two have the time to help her and Denise out? I already said I would come by after shift tomorrow.”

Cassie and Jenny shared a certain look—the kind these women donned when they were having a private conversation with just their eyes. This time, it seemed to be about him.

“What?” he asked, his hands spreading wide.

“Nothing,” Cassie said, smiling. “Sure, I can come.”

“Yeah,” Jenny agreed, “barring nothing too crazy happens on shift.”

Beau inclined his head. “Knock on wood there. Anyway, what’re we watching?”

“Crazy, Stupid Love,” Jenny grinned, holding up the DVD cover. “For Ryan Gosling, of course.”

Beau rolled his eyes.

A few months ago, he wouldn’t have expected that he’d make friends with exclusively women in this town, but he only complained about it in times like these.

Though as it turned out, he enjoyed the movie. There were as many hilarious scenes as there were poignant ones. By the end of the night though, he was beat.

Jenny helped with the cleanup, but she ended up taking off first. It left Beau to put away the fold-up chairs with Cassie.

“So, tell me,” she said, in a leading tone and with a teasing smile. “You crushing on Glamper Girl for real now?”

Beau shot her a wry look.

“She’s not a glamper anymore,” he pointed out. “And I’m not crushing like some teenager. I just want to help her out. She’s been through a lot…and she’s Denise’s family. It’s just the right thing to do.”

Cassie laughed. “That’s a lot of over-explaining you’re doing right there, but okay, Beau.” 

He rolled his eyes, but he had to smile. “Okay, that’s it. I’m gonna have to insist you get off my property.”

“Off what, your tin can?” she retorted.

“Hey! She can hear you.”

Beau wiped the sweat from his brow strategically while he carried his end (the heavier end, he might add) of your couch. He and Jenny were trying to get it up the stairwell to your apartment on the second floor.

“Okay now, just pivot on this corner,” he instructed. “Pivot!”

 Jenny nearly dropped her end out of sheer aggravation. Her blue eyes cut down to his.

“If you say pivot one more time, I’m gonna shoot you,” she snapped.

Beau whistled in amusement. “Threatening to shoot the sheriff. Now that’s at least a misdemeanor.”

Right as he could almost see the fumes coming out of his deputy’s ears, you hustled up the stairs to help them. You picked up the middle to make it easier.

“Okay, we can do this! I think we can just tip it on its side to get it around the corner,” you said.

To everyone’s relief, your suggestion worked. Denise held the door open while the three of you got the couch up to the second floor, then into your apartment. Once the couch was successfully in the living room, you went to the kitchen and grabbed a few bottles of water out of the fridge. You handed one each to Beau and Jenny.

“Thank you guys again so much for doing this,” you said, still catching your breath. You surveyed all the boxes and furniture you all had brought in, and you realized you were crazy to think you and Denise could’ve done all of this by yourselves.

“It’s our pleasure,” Beau nodded. He gestured to his sweating face and neck. “But do you have a towel or a rag or something? You’re about to be mopping me off the floor in a minute.”

“Yeah, of course. Hold on,” you said. You went back into the kitchen and retrieved a clean hand towel. Beau used it to dry his face, neck, and the top of his chest.

You tried not to stare at the flash of tan skin near the collar of his plain gray shirt, or the wet spots clinging to his back. The sleeves were tight around his arms and across his chest, leading you to believe that despite being in his mid-forties, he kept himself in shape. 

Meanwhile, Jenny drank her water, and pretended not to notice you staring at her boss. Part of her was amused, but a good part of her felt an unfamiliar sting as well.

“Okay,” Beau clapped a hand on his jean-clad thigh after he drained his own water bottle. “What’s next?”

Your face warmed, because you knew what your aunt was about to say before she said it.

“Oh, I think it’s just your bed, right honey?” she asked you.

“All right, let’s do it. Frame, headboard, box spring, and mattress, I assume,” Beau said, rubbing his sweaty hands together. He stretched his arms in preparation.

Again, you had to admire the way his shirt pulled across his tall, broad frame. But you followed after him when he started heading out the door.

“Wait, you shouldn’t do it by yourself!” you called out, and quickly followed after him.

Denise shot Jenny and Cassie a highly amused look.

“That's what she saaaid,” Denise sing-songed. The other two women grimaced.

“Wow. That’s your niece!” Cassie exclaimed.

“And technically my boss, thanks,” Jenny added.

“What, they’re cute, aren’t they?” Denise said, gesturing at the way you and Beau left.

“This from the woman who’s been lusting after that man since the minute he got into town,” Cassie retorted.

“Well, I’m woman enough to bow out when I’ve been thwarted. By my own blood no less,” Denise replied, but her mischievous smile said it all as she breezed back into the kitchen to start unpacking the silverware for you.

She knew for a fact that you’d made dinner for later—and not just because she’d told you how much Beau liked lasagna.

Beau accepted your help, along with Cassie and Jenny’s in bringing up all the parts of your bed. He just insisted on utilizing his own power tools to put it together.

That was how you found yourself holding the headboard up straight while Beau made sure the frame was aligned. It wasn’t as easy as it looked; the wood panels had to slide into the notch in the headboard just so, before he could start drilling the bolts back in.

“Damn it,” he muttered, when one panel of the frame nearly slipped out of his hand.

“Can you actually use that power drill?” Cassie asked. “Because you’re pretty hopeless with cars.”

Beau rolled his eyes, despite his smile. “Save the belittling for later. Tryin’ to concentrate.”

After a few more minutes of sweating, mild cursing, and internal praying, you, Beau, and Cassie managed to get the bedframe put together with the headboard. Then the box spring, and finally the mattress. It marked the official end of moving in.

While Beau, Cassie, and Jenny took a much-deserved rest sitting on the couch with a round of beers, you went to the kitchen where your aunt had already preheated the oven for you. Now you just needed to pull out the two massive pans of lasagna you’d prepared the night before—as a thank you for everyone who came to help you.

Denise sidled up to you and touched your arm to get your attention.

“Good job inviting our dear Beau to lift furniture for us,” she whispered, waggling her brows. You shot her a look and shushed her.

“Do you always flirt with him like this?” you asked incredulously.

“Well, I might have to do it less blatantly if he’s gonna keep playing Mr. White Knight for you,” she teased. 

“He is not. He’s just…nice,” you whispered back. “So are Cassie and Jenny.” 

Denise gave you an amused look. “Mhmm.”

You rolled your eyes and focused on getting dinner ready.

Within the hour, the five of you were sat at your new modest dining table between the kitchen and the living room, eating lasagna and drinking iced tea. Jenny and Beau had beers alongside them, and conversation drifted from how you intended to set up the apartment, to Cassie’s still open missing backpacker case.

The parents were even more worried now, saying it was out of character for him not to check in with a phone call, despite the email he’d apparently sent them a few days ago. Beau had agreed to give Cassie whatever help she needed on the periphery, especially if further evidence revealed itself on the backpacker’s whereabouts.

Beau was already on his second helping of lasagna when he raised his gaze to you, right across from him at the table.

“Clearly you get your cooking skills from your aunt, because this is fantastic,” he said.

Denise twittered. You blushed a little as you smiled.

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.”

There was a short lull, filled by the tapping of silverware on plates, before Denise spoke up.

“By the way,” she said, looking to you and Beau. “Did you two have a productive time at grief counseling? What did you talk about?”

It was a well-meaning, but perhaps intrusive question. Both you and Beau tensed up. Cassie gave Denise a warning look. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. You guys don’t have to answer that,” Denise amended. 

“Um, it’s okay,” you replied. “It wasn’t too bad…I think I might go again.”

Beau had a warmer smile for you. “That’s good.”

You were able to return his smile. You turned to Cassie next.

“You went there for a while, right?” you asked. Cassie nodded. 

“It was helpful,” she said. “I’m glad you’re getting something out of it.”

You took that with a nod, and returned your gaze to Beau.

“Have you been going there long?” you asked him.

He tilted his head. “Actually, yesterday was my first time too.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, really?”

Cassie was intrigued at the way this little scene was playing out. Thought she caught the look on Jenny’s face while she watched it too. Like Jenny was studying them, not sure what to make of it all.

Beau wore a self-deprecating smile.

“Yeah. Just…hadn’t gotten around to it,” he answered you.

There was a heaviness in his voice and in his eyes that you didn’t miss, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable in a room full of people, even if they were his friends. 

“Well, I’ll go again if you do,” you offered, a bit bolder than you felt. Beau met your eyes across the table, and his lips lifted at the corners. 

“All right,” he said. “You got yourself a deal, miss ma’am.”

You fought against a blush rising up your neck. You glanced down and took a sip of your iced tea. 

“Look at you. Pulling out your ‘sheriff’ voice,” Cassie teased. 

“Like a rhinestone cowboy…” you sang into your glass. Your smile peeked out around the corners of it.  

Most of the table laughed. Jenny smiled, but opted for drinking her beer.

Meanwhile, Beau gave you a mock look of betrayal. His true amusement shone through his eyes. 

“I see how this is. Gang up on the Texan time,” he remarked. 

That gave Cassie an opening to ask you something, and hopefully get to know you better. Already she had an instinct about you: she liked you. And clearly Beau seemed to as well. Cassie tended to be more cautious about people, even if you were Denise’s family.

“So how are you liking the Midwest so far?” Cassie asked you. 

“So far? It’s the fresh air I needed,” you replied. 

“Oh, you should check out that art studio you wanted to see,” Denise chimed in. 

“You’re an artist too?” Beau asked, raising a brow. You chuckled.

“No, just an amateur with a handful of brushes,” you replied.

You remembered the peace you’d gotten while painting in sight of the mountains. But when you got to Denise’s house, you’d hidden away those canvases, not wanting to be reminded of that week at Sunny Day Excursions. And of Mary. 

“Oh, but have you gone horseback riding yet?” Denise asked. “I know you were gonna try on your camping trip—”

You loved your aunt. You really did, but she also had a knack for putting her foot in her mouth. The others quieted as you dimmed at the actual mention of that God-forsaken place.

“I tried,” you said. “I never actually managed to make it on the horse.” 

“Aw, well if you ever want to go, there’s a stable in town. They give lessons too,” Denise said.

You nodded and forced a smile. You went back to picking at the remnants of lasagna and salad on your plate.

When everyone began to filter out of your new apartment, each with their own set of well-wishing and a container of leftovers to take home, Beau ended up being last to leave. You had followed him to the door, where you handed him his tupperware of leftovers, and he thanked you in appreciation.

“Now I just need a microwave,” he said. “My toaster oven’s been on the fritz.”

Your brows rose in amusement. “You have a toaster oven, but not a microwave?”

“Well, let’s just say my trailer doesn’t exactly have a whole lot of space for appliances,” Beau replied, chuckling.

You smiled at that. You hesitated, but you eventually touched his hand that held the tupperware.

“Thank you again for coming here, for helping me…and for yesterday,” you said.

Beau almost didn’t realize it, but his face was getting warm. As warm as your pretty smile.

“Well, you’re very welcome,” he said. “And just puttin’ it out there, I may or may not have been riding a horse before I could walk. First memory I have is my dad putting me on Old Bess when I was four. She nearly kicked me off…not that that would happen to you. I’m just saying—” 

“I see.” Your giggle ended with a smirk. Beau tended to ramble. You weren’t sure if it was a nervous tick, or just a facet of his upbeat personality…but you found it endearing.

He leveled you with a grin. “Listen, what I mean to say is, if you’re serious about wanting to learn how to ride, I could teach you. It’s not that hard.”

You bit your lip, mentally beginning to weigh out the pros and cons. To be honest, you still had reservations, both on riding a horse, and on Beau being the one to teach you. Was he just being nice, your “friendly neighborhood sheriff,” or was your aunt onto something?

…You weren’t sure, but your instincts told you that at the very least, you could trust him with this. And trust had become hard for you to give any man.

“Okay, cowboy. Let’s ride,” you said. And you even surprised yourself with the flirtatious note in your voice. 

Beau’s grin kicked up a notch. You then exchanged numbers so you could hash out the details of when and where to meet sometime soon. Hopefully soon. 

Then you wished him a good night. 

“G’night, darlin’,” he said. He lingered in the hallway for a parting grin. “And welcome home.”

Your answering smile warmed him, long after he left your door.

AN: *rubs hands together* We're really getting into it now. 😂 Finally we have the big reveal of why she left Chicago, and the start of her and Beau's bond. You'll see more of that, and of Emily, in the next chapter...

Next Time:

You gasped and gripped even tighter with your thighs. With almost everything you had.

You were still far too unsteady for comfort on this damn horse. The poor animal whinnied, tossing his head back with a huff. Unfortunately, that just made you tense up even more as you held onto his neck. 

Beau tried not to laugh. You looked like a cat clinging to the edge of a bath.

“Okay, you needa relax a little,” he said. “He ain’t gonna buck you, long as you don’t give him a reason to.”

You shot him a narrowed look.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106

@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons

@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow

[raayllum]

Here we see Rayla at age 8 thinking it’s her fault and weakness that she couldn’t defeat an evil adult sorceress single handedly, to being ‘too weak’ to be an assassin, routinely de-valuing herself unprompted (after all, why can’t she and the egg both matter?) and putting all the blame when things go wrong on her shoulders, believing that Callum and Ezran will be just fine in the mission without her, that she always expected to lose Callum someday and just didn’t want it to be “like this,” believing she’s fully deserving of her banishment and that there’s something fundamentally wrong with her, that her guilt over a mistake she didn’t even make is driving her to stay at the Spire to die, and that after spending a whole comic having nightmares about Viren hurting Callum, she feels it’s her responsibility to take down Viren, because...

and she can’t let that happen again. 

[likethecities]

the tales of symphonia party, rated by how much they need therapy:

i recently fell ass over teakettle back into symphonia hell, a game i played literally seventeen (17) years ago. every single character here needs therapy.

Lloyd: for a kid adopted after the gruesome death of a parent he's doing pretty well! good job dirk for raising a mentally stable child. 3/10 is still unpacking everything to do with kratos but he has at least 3 adults to talk to about it and a track record of actually talking about his feelings so honestly, he'll get there just fine

Colette: definitely needs a therapist for those self-worth issues. however, she is also aware she has those issues and actively wants to improve, which is half the battle. 7.5/10 with a gold star because you know she would immediately tell all of her friends how helpful therapy can be.

Genis: get this boy some grief counseling. 5/10

Raine: has probably thought “oh that's an issue I should deal with sometime” at least once a month for the last 15 years but immediately shoved it back down because she didn’t have the time or mental capacity to do so. will not realize she needs therapy until genis grows up and starts living on his own. 7/10

Sheena: at the beginning of the game sheena was a 8/10 for unexamined and PTSD, but by the end of it she's conquered her fear of Volt, let go of (some of) her guilt over Mizuho, and has her grandfather back. 5/10 still needs to unpack that "post" in post-traumatic stress of but making great progress.

Zelos: 15/10 holy fuck this boy has so many problems. oh my god. oh jesus. help him

Presea: not only does presea need to unpack 16 years of suppressed emotions and delayed grief, she's about to go through puberty. can you imagine going through puberty at age 28? i would be appalled. help her. 8/10

Regal: throwing yourself into jail due to your unwilling but justifiable involvement in the death of your lover isn't, per se, a healthy way to cope, but it did give him time to grieve. now that he's dedicated himself to improving the world in her memory, he's doing much better. king of going to therapy because he has his life together and knows that it's time to do the mental work to heal instead of assuming that everything is fine. also, once he starts getting therapy he, like colette, will probably tell the entire world to get therapy, and he has the power to put therapy on the lezareno company health policy. 5/10 make us proud

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Reaper and the Death Angel Part 28

Opie deserves better and he's going to get it, there's lots of mental health talk in the chapter so tread carefully. While it's all put in a positive light, I understand if this is where you leave me. I must also apologise for the filth in this chapter, Grammarly has seen things.

Series Masterlist

Part 27

Contains: Fluff, smut(phone sex, M and F masturbation, Dom/sub dynamics, rope bondage, fingering, sex toys, oral sex F receiving, P in V, CONSENT, aftercare), discussions of mental health, discussions of attempted sexual assault, loosely follows the plot of 2x04and 2x05. If I miss any, please let me know.

6.5K Words

Comment if you want to be tagged.

Time away and Clay has Jax frustrated.

You were in Jax's arms, even after the successful wrap party and the fun in the bathroom, his mind was elsewhere. "What's wrong dearest?"

Jax squeezed your arm, "it's Opie, I'm so worried about him."

You rolled over, resting your head on his chest, "did something happen at the meth house? Sam seemed worried too."

Jax buried his face in your hair, "he blew the house up without a remote, he was thrown off his feet by the blast. He could have been killed and he knew that."

You put a hand on his chest, "that's not good Jax, this on top of him walking into fire at that meet. You've got grounds to worry." There was no point in lying.

"What do I do?"

You drummed your fingers on his skin, "you make sure he's not on the brink of doing something harmful. I've been here a million times before Jax, the quiet ones are the ones you worry about. I'll talk to him; sometimes, a bit of tough love goes a long way. Plus, I did Donna's autopsy, it affords me a level of understanding."

Jax embraced you, pressing his lips to your ear, "thank you."

"Hey Opie, can we talk?" You didn't wait, the next day you showed up at the garage with some cakes and pulled Opie aside the moment he was free, "sure, is everything ok?"

You shook your head, "not really, I hear you've been taking some very unnecessary risks."

He didn't respond, "I understand you are in pain, probably the worst pain you've ever been in but so are your kids. Whatever idea you've got in your head has got to go, they need you here."

He looked at you, his eyes almost wet, "it has to stop Ope. This wallowing in your misery is an affront to Donna's memory. She took a bullet meant for you and instead of spending every day of your life grateful that you get to spend another day with your children, you're pissing that chance down the drain."

He looked away, his breathing rough, "she loved you Opie, with all her heart, she loved you enough to stay through everything. And you are tossing that love aside. I can't say anything that will ease your pain, but I can tell you that you're not helping anyone by thinking and acting the way you are." He looked crestfallen.

"Now, you are going unfuck yourself or I'll do it for you. I don't care what you do, take up knitting or fishing or stamp collecting, drag yourself to grief counselling or a widower group or turn to God. Hell, fix every broken down bike you come across. I've been to too many funerals where everyone is in mourning for someone who didn't need to die and I won't be going to yours.I will drag you to help, kicking and screaming if I have to. I might be small but I contain much rage and it gets me places."

You could see the resolve on his face, "you know my number, I don't care what time of day or night it is, if you want to talk about anything, I'll pick up. Don't give me another person to mourn Ope, I've already got too many people to remember."

****

"What's the run"

Jax was getting dressed, "blood drive, Eureka Children's hospital." You took a breath, "it's a shame your good work is covering the sale of weapons. How long will you be gone?"

Jax pulled you into his arms, "I'll be home late tomorrow."

You smiled, "what ever will I do without you? You know, idle hands are the devil's playthings, you should stay by your phone so I just in case I get any ideas."

He leaned down and kissed you, his hands gripping your tightly. Just as the kiss was getting heated, Abel started crying, "my boy, the master of timing." You shook your head and Jax pressed one last kiss to your lips, "I'll get him."

Upon Jax's return, you were sitting on the bed deep in thought, "what?"

You took a deep breath, "just thinking about Opie, how's he doing." Jax smiled, "whatever you said to him must have worked, he seems better."

You breathed a sigh of relief, "tough love, sometimes people need a smack across the head to knock them out of their pain. It's very different from my normal approach but oatmeal wasn't going to cut it."

Jax huffed a laugh, "you're amazing, you know that?"

You shook your head, "don't count your chickens just yet, I can't fix what's going on with Ope, I can only lend him a helping hand."

****

With the guys gone, it was time to put some plans into motion. You went into bone storage and took out the case you were looking for. The case was open and shut and the killer was already inside, which was why it hadn't been touched. The victim was a smuggler who got caught up with the wrong crowd and ended up getting killed. The reason you wanted it was a piece of evidence, a tobacco leaf.

Zobelle was outside when you showed up at impeccable smokes. You went up to him smiling, sticking your hand out for a handshake, "hello Mr Zobelle, I'm Dr l/n and I work at The Nothern California science and natural history museum. If you have the time, I'd like to ask you some questions about the cold case I'm working."

He took your hand and you squeezed hard, "I'm not sure I'll be able to help, don't you have experts you work with?"

You nodded, "I do, I have tobacco experts, leaf experts, and trade experts, but you add a different perspective. Sometimes knowing the emotional and situational context is just as important as factual information."

He invited you in and you smiled at Weston as you creasted to the threshold, "hello, I don't believe we've met are you helping Mr Zobelle set up his store?"

He nodded, "yeah."

You sat down at one of the tables and got the evidence bag out, "the killer has actually been caught and is serving life so the DA didn't feel the need to bother but I want to give the victim justice. Can you please tell me what kind of cigar producer would use this kind of leaf and curing process?"

He picked up the bag and looked it over, "someone who was being cheap, you can see that the leaf isn't the best from the harvest, I wouldn't even think of selling something like that here."

You nodded, "thank you Mr Zobelle, do you think it might be a part of a counterfeit operation, I'm sure you've run into that before?"

He tilted his head, "yes on the occasion but we always know what to look for."

You smiled warmly, it was false, "thank you for all your help Mr Zobelle, this whole thing has been very enlightening."

****

As you walked out the door, Gemma's car pulled up. You walked over to her when she got out, "Gemma what are you doing here?" She pulled out the Sherman's bag, showing you the mask, "wasn't that what they were wearing, how did you get it?"

She threw it back inside, "they sent it to me."

You put a hand on your shoulder and pushed her gently back to her car, "don't let them know it's gotten to you Gem, we're going back home and you're going to pretend you never got it, understand? There's a lot more going on than you think."

She gave you a dirty look but didn't resist, "what have you got planned?"

You looked behind you to see if they had noticed, "right now? I'm going to see Jacob Hale."

When you got to his office, he was in with his brother, as he came out, he met eyes with you and you walked up to him. "Hello Mr Hale, I have some concerns I think you need to hear?"

His slimy face broke out into a smile, "of course, I'm always happy to hear the concerns of a valued member of Charming."

"Are you aware that one of the men you rent to is surrounded by known and convicted Neo-Nazis?"

He was taken aback, "what?"

You stiffen your voice, "Are you aware that one of the men you rent to is surrounded by known and convicted Neo-Nazis?"

He shook his head, "no, I would never bring that kind of hate to Charming, if you have proof, please share it."

You smiled nastily, "I have proof, plenty in fact. I'll send it over to Unser, I'm sure he'll be interested to hear that those kinds of people are here, who knows what they're into or who they're working with. Don't you agree David."

The deputy turned to his brother, his expression righteous, "yeah I do, Neo-Nazi have no place here. Thank you for your concern y/n, I know we don't get along but I've always valued your input on cases."

You put a hand on his shoulder, "despite being a cop, I think you've got your head on straight. It's a shame your brother didn't do this due diligence. No matter, I'm sure you'll get it sorted, won't you Jacob?"

He nodded agreeably, "I'll be right on it. Thank you again for bringing this up."

****

Later that night, you called Jax, "how was your day, my love? I heard Piney had to leave to sort some things out."

You heard his chuckle, "yeah, Tig had a run-in with some bounty hunters."

You rolled your eyes, "do I want to know?"

There was a groan, "nope, you don't."

He could hear Abel babbling in the background, "how's the little guy?"

You chuckled, "Good, we had a very interesting conversation about geo-politics in perfume industry and I just put him down." There was the rustle of sheets.

"How was work?"

Jax had taken more and more interest in your job, if only to see you get all dorky. "Good, second case closed this week. Jack found a bug that led the feds to within two miles of the original crime scene, it's a slam dunk."

Jax smiled, "I'm glad things are getting better."

Jax didn't want to think about all the times you had crawled into his lap, close to crying because of unsolvable cases. "more good news, Anvil's contract has been expanded to another museum. Apparently, the curator for the California Museum of Technology was so impressed that security could answer questions about exhibits they wanted in."

"Did you end up getting that new fancy machine?"

He could hear the excitement in your voice, "the new mass spectrometer? Yes, it's amazing, it sings to us when it's done."

His tone changed, "what are you wearing?"

Of course he would start with such a stereotypical line, "One of your T-shirts, the white one with the hole in the arms and the faded Son in black. And those boyshorts you like, the ones with the ladybugs on the butt."

You could almost hear the smirk, "I like it when you wear my clothes."

You giggled, "I know, I like wearing your clothes. Are you busy?"

His voice got deeper, "no, you?"

You wonder if his hand was about to be busy, "nope, I'm in bed, all by my lonesome talking to you."

There was a grunt, soft but still there, "Jax, would you like me to touch myself?"

You heard his fist slam against something soft, "yeah Darlin, I'd like that." Jax was going to have a heart attack or faint, all the blood had rushed to his cock and now all he could think about was the vision taking place in your bedroom.

"You're on speaker." Jax could hear you opening the toy drawer, he was curious, aside from opening and closing it to get lube, you hadn't had the chance to enjoy the toy drawer yet.

"Are you having fun?"

With a light buzz over the line, the answer was more breathy, "yes, maybe you can sit and watch next time." His hand slid into hands pants, stroking his cock. Your hands were so much softer, more precise.

"Oh my God, Jax."

This was torture, hearing you but not being able to touch you, "you feeling good Darlin, bet you wish I was the one holding that toy."

Another one of your moans had his hand speeding up, "yes, your hands feel so much better."

He wondered if he had died somewhere along the road and this was hell, he could almost feel your hands grabbing at him. "Come on Darlin, I can hear how close you are, let go for me." The moment the words left his lips, he could hear it, the choked gasp that signified you had fallen over the edge.

Jax followed you violently, "fuck."

He heard you giggle across the line, "thank you Jackson."

His pleasure turned to smugness, "what have I told you about that?" Another giggle, "it's not like you're here to do anything about it."

He bit his fist, "listen here little girl, I'll be home tomorrow and after the day I've had, you are really in for it."

A huff, "oh really? I'm looking forward to it." So you knew he had a bad day and were offering an outlet, God he loved you.

"I love you y/n."

He sounded much calmer, "I love you too Jax. Goodnight beloved, I look forward to your return."

"Goodnight Darlin."

****

"Hello my love."

Jax pulled you into his arms, "you're a sight for sore eyes y/n." You smiled softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. Jax had turned up at your office mid-morning, having raced home to see you.

"You want to talk about what's got you so upset or you want to deal with it tonight?"

Jax slumped in your arms, "both." You put a hand around his elbow and walked him to the couch in your office.

"Shit's gone to hell. You were right about Clay, his mask is off and he's pissed. I tried to push about Donna more and he told me he kill me if I brought it up again, no matter what you said."

Jax expected you to be angry, "good."

He tilted his head, "he doesn't think I can or will follow through. Underestimating me isn't smart Jackson, if he doesn't see me as a threat I can play him like a cheap flute."

Jax shifted, resting his head on your shoulder. "I'd be lost without you."

You ran a hand over his head, "hey, I need you just as much as you need me."

Jax smiled, "yeah, you need me to reach the top shelf."

You giggled, "that and you're very warm, I get cold at night without you."

He sat up and placed a hand on your cheek, "thank you, I feel a lot better." That was a half-truth, he was still thinking about bending you over whatever surface was available and fucking you until you couldn't stand.

"But I can tell you're still frustrated. My offer is still on the table, if you've still got shit to work through by tonight, I'm here."

His hand landed on your face, his thumb drifting over your lip, "you sure? It's not going to be sweet and romantic."

You turned your head, pressing a kiss to his palm, "nonsense, you're always romantic, even if you're bending me in half."

****

"Where to fuck were you?" Jax rolled his eyes, "seeing my old lady and the mother of my child."

Clay snarled, "don't forget what your main priority is, y/n can look after herself."

Jax's skin started to itch, "you're so fucking ungrateful. In the last few months, she has single handedly ended our war with The Mayans, ensured that the Italians will always be in our debt and tortured two men so we knew what we were dealing with when it comes to Zobelle, not to mention what she did for mum last month."

Everyone was quiet, they still remember Tig's face after church that night, all he kept repeating was how frighting you were. Bobby and Chibs said a quiet thank you, Juice did his best but couldn't find the words and the rest of them acted like it was an expectation and there was no need for thanks.

"ENOUGH." Sam stepped in front of Clay, making sure he didn't swing on Jax. "Both of you stop it. This is insanity, we have the enemy pounding at our door and you're bitching at each other." He stood over Clay. Sam always went out of his way not to make his 6'6 height stand out but not now, he was making sure Clay knew how big he was.

"You're a fucking Marine, pull your fucking head out of your ass and act like it. You have no control over your temper and you can't think ten minutes ahead, we are in the middle of it, unfuck yourself and stop thinking like a POG."

POG Person Other than Grunt, the most insulting thing you can be called by a fellow soldier other than a coward.

Clay stepped back, his eyes wide, "the fuck you say to me."

Sam wasn't having it, "you fucking heard me. You call Jax selfish but you're only thinking about yourself. We wouldn't be here if you and Trager had listened to everyone in the first place and got us out on guns six months ago."

Clay swung at Sam. Sam sidestepped, grabbing Clay's fist, "you want to try that again, old man?" It was like he was a different person, gone was the soft teddy bear, and in its place, a cold killer.

Clay pulled away and turned to Jax, "I should have figured you would sponsor someone so disrespectful." Jax was done, Clay might have well have said that about Thomas had he been alive.

Before Jax could hit him, Bobby stepped in, "that's enough. Sam's right, we have to focus on the bigger issue. Go home and cool off, we'll talk about this tomorrow."

****

A cloud of rage entered your home when Jax walked in, "bad day at work dear?" He grunted, "ok, we can talk about it over dinner if you like. It will be on the table by the time you have shower."

Jax was back downstairs and at the table within ten minutes, "Sam and Ima by themselves tonight?" He nodded and sat down, stabbing at his meal like it was the one that upset him.

"Clay went off again, Sam almost got physical with him."

Jax saw you swallow, "I'm sorry, after Caruso he's on a short fuse. You need to keep an eye on him Jax, I know it might not seem like it but he is a very violent man. I was able to calm him down after Donna but with all the trouble Luanne and the girls have been having, plus Clay, he's ready to blow."

Jax took a deep breath, "If you think he's scary when you spar you haven't seen anything, I've seen him beat men to death without blinking Jax. He'd shoot himself before he ever hurt someone innocent but Clay and Tig aren't really that."

Jax had never heard you this worried before, "yeah I think I saw that today, I'll make sure he doesn't go too far."

You smiled softly, "thank you, you have no idea how grateful I am that you're his friend."

Jax reached across the table and grabbed your hand, "I love you."

You squeezed his hand, "I love you too. Now let me wash the dishes and we can enjoy the rest of our night.

Jax's hand got a little tighter, "I'll wash up. Go to the bedroom, by the time I get up there, I want you naked, on your back, on the bed. Don't even think about touching yourself."

Jax took the opportunity to cool down a bit as he washed up, he could feel the race of his heart as he put away the last dish. Part of him wanted to wait, hoping to catch you disobeying him but the thought of you naked and waiting for him was too much.

He collected a jug of water and some snack bars and headed to the bedroom, pausing by the laundry to put some damped hand towels into the portable warmer you normally reserved for cleaning up on outings.

When he came to the bedroom and opened the door, he felt the anger renew. You were sitting at your vanity, rubbing oil on your nails. "I thought I told you to get naked and lay on the bed." You turned your head and smiled, not getting up. He put the items in his arms down on one of the side tables.

"You didn't say please."

Your disobedience had the desired effect. Jax was stalking over to you, lifting you up by your arm and tossing you onto the bed. "Take off your clothes."

You smirked at him, "make me."

He pulled you towards him by your hips, "take off your clothes, I won't ask again."

You put your lips within touching distance of his, "make me." Jax stepped back, he looked so angry. When he spoke, his tone was calm and not in a good way.

"Unless it's your safeword, or I'm asking you a question, I don't want to hear from you for the rest of the night. Nod if you understand." You went to open your mouth, and Jax's hand clamped over it, "nod if you understand." You nodded and Jax walked away, moving towards the closet, "do not move." You debated getting up, you could hear him getting rope out of the chest.

He was back before you could move, dropping multiple lengths of thick silk rope next to you and kneeling down at your feet, "give me your arms." You kept them by your sides, shooting Jax a defiant look. Jax was yanking you up by your upper arms, ripping off your T-shirt and bending you over, grabbing both your forearm to keep you from moving away.

He shifted, holding your wrists with one hand while he reached down to grab the rope. He threw the rope on the bed, flipped you over, and re-grabbed your hands.

He crossed your wrists, putting a folded up bit of the ruined T-shirt between them as he tied them together so nothing pressed uncomfortably. He bound your wrists in the thick cuff, the knots were expertly done and with each new loop and braid, he checked the tightness and if it would give you rope burn.

When he was done, there was a palm width cuff tie holding both your wrists together, "wiggle your fingers." His tone was soft, his role forgotten for a moment, "anything feels strange or painful? I need a verbal answer gorgeous." You wiggled your fingers and clenched your fist a few times.

"No, I can comfortably move my fingers and there's enough room for me to flex my forearms."

Jax nodded, "good. Now, you're going to do exactly what I tell you to do and maybe I'll let you cum tonight."

He stood over you, one hand holding your cuff wrists before yanking you up the bed and tying you to the headboard. He fluffed the pillow and placed it under your head, loosening the rope and adjuting it so your shoulder and elbows were supported and comfortable before retying your hands back up to the headboard.

"Are you planning on doing anything, or are you just going to stare at me?"

His hand was wrapping around your jaw and chin, being careful not to press on the sides of your face and set off a migraine, "what did I tell you about talking. One more slip up and I promise you won't get off for the rest of the month, let alone tonight."

He picked up the other bits of rope, spread your legs and tied each one to a bedpost, checking in again to make sure you were comfortable. Then he was opening the top drawer. He picked up the wand, the one that ran on wall power and plugged it into the powerboard next to the bed.

Jax put the wand next to your hip, picked up his K-Bar off the bedside table, and slipped it under the fabric of your underpants, slicing the sides. He took in your soft smile, and he had sudden flashes to the day you almost reduced Tig to tears for having a dull knife.

He was going to say something but he noticed the wet patch on the cotton, "at least there are parts of you that aren't defiant." He moved, sitting on the bed next to you. His hands were warm as he ran them over your skin, one made a path up your hip and to your face, turning your head to meet your eyes.

"I think I've been too lenient on you, maybe it's because you're so sweet to me or because I love your fire, but I'm going to fix that tonight and make sure we nip this attitude in the bud." Your raised eyebrows said it all, you can try.

He picked up the wand with one hand, the other resting lovingly on your thigh. He took in the hard look on your face, clearly stealing yourself for what was about to come and smiled. He enjoy the rebellion, it only made the acquiescence sweeter.

You heard the soft buzz and then Jax was putting pressure on your leg so you couldn't twitch away, with that Teller smirk, he pressed the toy to your slit. It was in the lowest setting, just enough to be distracting.

The thumb of the hand on your thigh was rubbing softly, Jax's attention was on your face. When your breath stuttered, he put it up one notch. "Nothing to say?"

He watched your jaw clench, "try harder." He closed his eyes, he didn't know it was possible for intense frustration and madding arousal to exist in the same space.

He turned it up by two, rolling it back and forth over your slit. He watched you suppress a grunt, your eyes moving to stare at the canopy above your head. He held it there, pressing down softly, with another swallow breath, you composed yourself and he shifted the placement of the wand so he could touch you with his other hand.

When his fingertips met your entrance, he groaned. "Jesus Christ you're wet." With agonising slowness, he slid two fingers inside you, then he was scissoring them open while pushing his fingertips against your G-spot. He could feel you getting closer so he turned the wand back down to the lowest setting and paused his fingers.

Other than a wet inhale, you made no indication of the change in touch. When Jax could tell you were away from the edge, he turned the toy back up and moved his fingers again. He watched you carefully, stopping each time you got close and when the time between pausing got shorter and shorter, he spoke.

"Don't you dare cum until I give you permission. If you do, I promise you'll regret it." But he didn't stop, in fact, his fingers became more insistent and the vibrations were ratcheted all the way up.

You whimpered like an animal, turning your head to bury it in the crook of your arm. Jax did not relent, leaning down to kiss your neck. The angle couldn't have been comfortable but he didn't care.

But then he heard a hard grunt you and met his eyes with nothing but determination. Jax had to change his strategy, being harsh clearly wasn't working. He shifted so he was more on top of you and pressed and soft kiss to your lips.

You returned the kiss, your lips pliant against his. You were gasping more, unable to disconnect from the sensation now that he was so close. "Don't you dare."

His voice was tender, the words spoken right into your ears, "I can't hold it any longer."

Jax felt his chest swell, he was winning. "Jax please." He didn't stop and you flew over the edge, contracting around his fingers while you tried to twitch away from the intense sensation.

He touched you gently as you came down from your high, "now what am I going to do with you, huh? If you had just done what I asked you to in the first place we wouldn't be here but you just can't take simple directions."

He tutted and wiped his wet hand on your leg, "you got any ideas?" You opened your mouth slightly, trying to gather some saliva to soothe your dry throat, "can't think?" You shook your head, "what a shame, I guess I'll have to come up with a solution all by myself."

Jax laid on his side next to you, his upper body propped up by his elbow with his skin against yours. He put a hand on your face and ran his thumb over your lower lip. His soft smile had a sinister edge as he turned and kissed his way down your body. When he got to your core, his breath caught in his throat, you were utterly soaked.

"Oh, that must be very uncomfortable. Let me make it better." He kissed your inner thigh, slowly moving to your centre. He dispatched with any teasing when he got there, sucking your clit into his mouth and sliding three of his long, thick fingers inside you.

It was overwhelming, he knew exactly what to do and he was paying attention to each gasp and twitch. He pulled back and slapped the outside of your thigh, "if you tug on the ropes one more time, I will tie you up so tight you won't even be able to think about moving."

You relaxed and he went back to work, his free arm coming to rub your leg. It couldn't have been long before you were ready to cum again, "Jax…I"

You felt him smile, "I know Darlin, you can let go." The words were barely out of his mouth before you reached that peak. He didn't stop, his fingers pushing harder and harder.

"Jax, I can't."

Another slap to your hip, "what did I tell you about talking?" You slammed your head against the pillow and resigned yourself to whatever he had in store for you.

You had no idea how much time had passed, only that the orgasms never seemed to end. He would occasionally pull away to kiss elsewhere and you would be eternally grateful for the momentary break. You must have started crying because you could feel the wetness on your face, if Jax noticed, he didn't let on.

"Please Jax, no more, I can't." Finally, he took pity on you, kissing a path up your body and to your lips. The lower part of his face was wet and your could taste yourself on his skin.

He was still wearing his PJs, stepping back to take them off your eyes raked over him like he was a piece of art. You always looked at him like he was the most attractive thing you had ever seen.

Jax rested his weight on top of you, pushing your hair out of your face and wiping the tears off your cheek. "You good to keep going?" You could feel his cock against your stomach as he lay on top of you.

You nodded and he kissed you, "a nod isn't an answer."

He watched you take a ragged breath, "please, I…..yes Jax."

He smiled lovingly, "I'll go slow."

Jax knew he wasn't going to last long, he had been painfully hard since your first 'fuck you' glare. That didn't matter, you were shaking around him after a handful of soft thrusts. He couldn't hold it any longer, he let out a grunt and came inside you, his hand coming to grip yours.

Jax untied your hands and you wrapped them around him, pulling him into a kiss, "thank you." Jax felt a little lost as he moved to untie your legs, he had spent the last two hours tossing you around, doing whatever he wanted to you and you were thanking him.

He cleaned you up, wincing when you flinched away from the warm towel. You took the water, laying on hand on his as you drank then climbed into his open arms.

Jax was content to just hold you but part of him was worried about the silence, "you doing ok?" As much as you wanted to enjoy the lingering high, Jax's tone let you know it was time to come back to Earth.

"I'm great, amazing in fact." You felt him relax under you, "yeah, that was really fun, we should do it again."

He chuckled, "remind me to ask you again in the morning. You're not sore?"

You shook your head and put your hand on his cheek, "no, not even a little. I'm really grateful that we get to do this stuff together Jax and if I didn't want or enjoy something, I would tell you."

The nasty voice in Jax's head was fading fast, "you have no idea how much I love our time together. It's one of the only things that turns off my brain's constant noise. Truly, it's nice not to have to worry about the world falling to bits because I'm not on top of everything." Jax squeezed you into his arms, every doubt in his mind banished by your honesty.

"However, if you don't coil my ropes back exactly how you found them, I will dye you hair in your sleep. The fabric for those ropes was obscene and if they're not put back right they will fall apart."

Jax laughed, "Of course Darlin."

****

"Are you still that sore?"

Gemma nodded, "I'm just so stiff." You put the cup down, "blunt force trauma causes swelling, there's some meds you can try, I'll write you a list."

Jax came out of the garage, asking his mothers about an old Harley manual. "Hello Chibs." Chibs came in with a smile on his face, "is Kip getting his implant today?"

He nodded, "wee man's completing himself."

Jax kissed you goodbye and left, and you took Gemma to the drug store. You went in and spoke to the pharmacists, handing him the scripts that you got off one of your labmates.

When you came out, Gemma locked eyes with a woman and then she was running after her. She watched the blonde jump into her car and when you went to touch her shoulder, she swung back and you narrowly missed an elbow to the face.

"Are you ok, who was that woman?" She was still staring at the empty car space, "Gem?"

She shook herself off, "she was there the night I was taken."

You nodded, "I'm not surprised, that's Zobelle's daughter."

****

You had just finished an autopsy when you got the call, "Luanne, slow down. What happened to Otto?" She was a mess, all you heard was her stuttering that he was stabbed in the face, "Ok, ok. All I need you to do is authorise me to see his intake form and talk to his doctors, we'll go from there."

Half an hour later, you got the call from Stockton, it was bad. The moment you hung up, you called Jax.

"Jackson, are you busy."

He could hear by your tone that something was wrong, "is Abel ok?"

Abel was fine, tossing his toy around the crib next to your desk, "Abel's fine, have your heard about Otto."

There was a pause, "no, is he ok?"

You took a deep breath, "did any of you talk to Zobelle today?" There was a huff, "Clay did. He went after him for protection money."

You put your head in your hands, "Otto's been stabbed in the face, he's lost his good eye. When I got off the phone to Luanne, I got Anvil's analyst to do some digging, it had to be the Aryans."

Jax took in your clipped, to the point summary, "this is Clay's fault, he won't fucking listen to anyone."

You shook your head, "I know my love, but right now we can't do anything. When I get off work, I'm going to go see Luanne and the girls then talk to your mum and I'll call you back ok?"

"Ok Darlin, let Luanne know we're here for her."

****

It was late afternoon by the time you were able to check in on Gemma, "How are you after this morning? That running couldn't have been fun."

She shook her head, "I'm fine." She wasn't.

"Gem you need to talk to someone, this isn't good for your health."

There was silence, "I know what it's like. When I was sixteen and in college, my first boyfriend attacked me, almost managed to rape me after bashing my head in. You can't keep it to yourself, it will eat you alive."

She turned to you, "does Jax know?"

You nodded, "I told him a few days after we got together. It was tough and I was terrified he'd stop loving me but he was good about it. I felt he needed to know, if anything just to explain the occasional nightmare."

She took a deep breath, "Clay's not as understanding."

You handed her a card, "I've made an appointment for you, a counsellor who works at the museum. She nice and she'll help you, you're going to see her or I'll have you charged with attempted assault."

The guys had just finished church so you and Gemma walked out to sit with them at the picnic tables. "Did it go the way you wanted it?"

Jax nodded, "yeah, it's all good for now."

Jax put his arm around you, and tilted his head towards Opie and Lyla, "they seem cosy."

You smiled, "yes, they do."

"SHIT" You looked towards to source of the noice and Chibs was running at breakneck speed away from the grey van in the lot.

BANG

There was a fireball that engulfed the car and Chibs was thrown clear off the ground. Jax and the rest of the guys were towards him, "DON'T TOUCH HIM." Jax paused before his instinct to shake Chibs took over. Sam ran to your car to get a spinal collar while you went over to Chibs.

"If he has spinal damage and you move him, he could die." Sam placed the collar around his neck while you called 911 and checked him over.

"Hello my name is Dr y/n, I need an ambulance there's been a blast and a man has been injured. Late forties, early fifties, decent health, no preexisting conditions to my knowledge, bleeding from a head wound."

You turned to Jax, "you guys have a real problem on your hands.

He looked over his bleeding friend, "I know."

Part 29

Another super long chapter, please let me know what you think. I've noticed there are a lot of new readers and I'm very happy to have you here.

[y-rhywbeth2]

@thediffidence my approach to ketheric is (1) he was always a paladin, and paladins have to be zealous. devoted. a bit crazy. also (2) he was always nobility. among other things, he betrayed the people he rules over. ... frankly, i see him as a deeply selfish person. like you say, many people grieve. but ketheric makes a lot of other people pay for his grief. maybe he swapped gods, but he could've been oath of conquest the whole way through.

Hm. I got carried away. Long post. Maybe off topic towards the end, I can't tell.

I definitely agree that Ketheric's flaws like his obvious entitlement and arrogance were the major driving force of his fall, combined with his grief. I'm just wondering to what degree he was an asshole before, or if his grief has twisted him.

Isobel saying he used to be a better man might be the rose tinted glasses of a child who loved her father and didn't see him from the outside, but since you can kind of get through to him before his boss fight, I do wonder if she was right that he wasn't that unreasonable before and when he turned to Shar he got worse. (While his grief at losing his child, and his desire to escape it is understandable, blaming everybody else (Aylin, notably) and selling everybody out is a flaw.)

Ketheric himself does imply that he was a better person:

'If Melodia could see all I've done, she'd know... she'd know her husband died long ago, with Isobel. Unlike Isobel, he could never be brought back.'

I think zealous faith and the paladin thing is actually part of the downfall:

This is another place BG3 has diverged from FR canon, so it can be handwaved away but: I do note that paladins in the Realms continue to be holy warriors sworn to the service of a deity, usually one, though sometimes multiple. Looking at the Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide they're also still supposed to be on the Lawful Good theme. So Ketheric's oath would be sworn to Selûne, who is extremely unlikely to accept an Oath of Conquest unless it's specifically directed at combating Shar. He'd then be an Oathbreaker Paladin/Blackguard, drawing from the 'dark forces' mentioned in the subclass description like Shar and Myrkul. He's not necessarily devoted to a god anymore, he's devoted to what they give him for his service.

'...the Moonmaiden did not intervene when my life was dismantled piece by piece. And when I tried to buy it back, it cost me everything - everything.'

His faith broke - or started breaking - when his wife died, which for a paladin... is unpleasant. When Isobel dies, it's the final betrayal in his eyes. He swore and oath to the Moonmaiden and served loyally, is he not entitled to have Isobel back? (Him somehow more than every other grieving individual who lost somebody that he probably never gave thought to before now?)

This all enters a rather complicated thing about whether one thinks Selûne is unreasonable for not bringing Isobel back - and thus Ketheric is perfectly reasonable in blaming her - or if Selûne is bound by higher rules and/or concerning herself with the Greater Good and being pragmatic - in which case he's selfish from a certain perspective (I'd argue that this isn't a simple situation and it's both).

This is a deity canonically stated to be mindful of her follower's rights and feelings, who refuses to treat them like disposable tools and wants them to live happy lives; she's not leaving him to grieve for shits and giggles, even if her response, if you could ask her, might be to send him to grief counselling instead of shipping his daughter's soul back to him. It's been implied in places that gods are under something a non-interference pact, particularly when it comes to resurrections; once a god starts directly intervening it opens the floor to direct intervention from their enemies too.

There are a couple of things that could get thrown around as to the hows or whys of Isobel not getting resurrected. Avoiding open endless war and butchery with Shar; Isobel's soul somehow being blocked from the afterlife; souls refusing to return when called by the resurrection spell, who knows.

And, of course, even if Selûne was just a selfish power who sees mortals as ants, what became of Reithwin and Ketheric's participation in the Absolute plan because he - unlike the rest of Faerûn and its high death rates - refuses to terms with his grief and made it the world's problem is his fault.

IIs Ketheric understandably consumed by grief but also hubristic, or are the gods too ruthless and he's justified in feeling betrayed? I just shrug and go: eh.

Ketheric continues to be the member of the Chosen I struggle to get a grip on. Like the other three I can tell you the details of why (I think) they grew up to monsters:

Long post.

-

Let's start with Gortash: spent his childhood being told he was a selfish monster for his thoughts - apparently from birth - for the way he perceived the world, for *checks notes* wanting his parents attention as an undeveloped human being that relies on its parents to survive and thrive.

Then his parents send him to hell as part of a deal. Because that's where monsters go isn't it? They go to hell to suffer eternal damnation because they were monsters in life.

So you grow up in one of the literal cesspits of the universe, where the only people you meet are the literal scum of the universe, or those you're going to learn to see as weak fools who had to rely on others - and were ultimately willing to commit atrocities themselves - who were taken advantage of by the scum of the universe. You get to the Hells by committing atrocities, either because you want something so badly you'll fuck somebody over for it (out of greed, or because you couldn't fix it yourself (weak)) or because you did them of your own volition. And curiously, some of these people had their price tags wrapped in such subtle terms they don't even realise they did anything wrong! Lesson learned; anyone will willingly be a monster if you make the evil sound nice. Every single devil you meet has had the humanity flayed from their soul, and they got to where they are in their existences by fomenting (and committing) hate and rape and murder and everything evil under the sun as a regular Monday morning in the ultimate goal to make the universe an evil place. Devils are also 'self made men', everybody started from nothing as a lemure and clawed their way to where they are now. Every social interaction in the Hells is manipulation and abuse. Everyone there hurts everyone.

But you do have one example of a good person! There's Hope! Lovely lady, kind and sweet... Trapped in hell being abused forever going insane because of it because your ambitious sister fucked you over. That's where trust and love being a good person gets you.

And that was his entire social life. That was the people he had to look to for examples. All his early experiences were limited to a sample of the absolute worst it has to offer, and he has a very skewed view of the universe.

And the fact that he's apparently so damn good at sex a lady gave him a ring worth everything she owns after growing up around a pleasure devil whose role is harming and corrupting people with sex and has built in charm person at etc is not ringing alarm bells(!) I'm not side-eyeing the boudoir at all.

I wonder why having a child/teen spend their formative years in the evil factory literally designed to spit out monsters... spat out a monster? Kudos to Karlach, though: just how many layers of defence mechanisms has she got in her brain?

Gortash's thought processes are 50% through the lens of engineering and 50% through the lens of a devil's perspective to me. People will sell out others for their own gain, because they're too weak to do it themselves or because they're bastards. If you don't get with the programme you're the victim. You only get ahead by being ruthless. Everybody is untrustworthy, and relying on them will get you betrayed. The world is divided into the weak and the ruthlessly strong who take what they want. Yes, he's a monster. And so are his parents. And so is everyone. And then Bane saw this perfect example of his way of thinking and said 'that one.'

-

Orin: obviously we've got grooming. The fact that her formative memories include her mother trying to murder her, and the fact that she feels like the only person who has ever cared about her or supported her is her grandfather. Who is implied to have been raping her, or intending to. All she's permitted is to have her brain poisoned by her faith, which her life revolves around, and then her kin 'does it all wrong' and inherits everything she's been groomed to believe is hers. But no, 'they're not wrong,' says everybody around her 'you are!'

She's a Bhaalspawn, so her relationships with her kin are "kill or be killed," as Helena proved. You will please father by slaughtering your siblings, or you will die - or worse. You must be and stay favoured by Bhaal above all the others to be truly safe ("safe"), and Durge outranking her is a threat to her existence. Actually Durge existing is a threat to her well-being. She has no way to live a life outside the cult, never has and never will. Her life is insanely lonely and mostly consists of paranoia.

But the overlaying theme here is that she's a changeling. She's mirrorkin with no unique physical identity of her own, she can only reflect those of others. To be dnd canon accurate: she has no real facial features, no pigmentation. She's not permitted an identity of her own, and was punished for trying. She's a mirror born and raised to reflect the glory of Bhaal, the glory of her failed grandfather, the rise of Bhaal's favourite child. Never her own. Gee, I wonder why she literally wears people's skins.

Denied the ability to do anything but live according to what she's told, she does her best to live up to it because to fail is to become her parents and the countless aunts and uncles currently enjoying their damnation in the Throne of Blood. And then she's told she's doing it wrong. By everybody. She's a 'rabid dog'. She, despite having doctrine poured into her ears and probably carved into her flesh her entire life 'doesn't understand Bhaal.' And everybody is insanely patronising about it! You're never allowed to be anything but what we tell you to be, but you're still not good enough! Which is death. The Temple of Bhaal needs murder feminism.

-

The Dark Urge is my favourite little nightmare, and I've talked about them at length: much of Orin's trauma also applies to them, although where she's a mirror made to reflect the egos of others, Durge is only allowed one identity: Bhaal's. Where Orin can never seem to reach the standards forced on her, Durge is never allowed to fail to meet them, or else. Every outside connection they ever had was brutally sabotaged, and they've had 'you're a monster and only I (your abusive Father) can love you' drilled into their mind. They hate themself. We got the threat of sexual exploitation (assuming it didn't happen), there's a subtle undercurrent of incest to some interactions. The prayer for forgiveness kind of sums it all up: 'I'm sorry for forming an emotional connection that isn't blind love for you father, but don't fret, I'll destroy it with my own hands just like everything else and then finally get to kill myself just like I've always wanted.'

-

But Ketheric? Like villains don't need tragic backstories to be terrible people, but it does make them more interesting.

OK, so your bio family is fucked up and I definitely get the impression that they sucked (Malus is giving me vibes that say he'd have been a villain anyway, and might've been secretly Sharran to start with; Gerringothe seems to be drowning whatever her issues are in gold), and then the loving family you made for yourself broke: your wife died, and your daughter died, sure. But plenty of people on Toril probably have similar if not the same stories and didn't go evil overlord! Why are you doing this? What is informing these decisions? Why does your existence hinge so much on your dead daughter that your son is basically named after her and you seem to hate him for existing and not being her? Does Shar have something to do with it? Has Ketheric just carved out so much memory and emotion, so much of his own identity, that all that's left is the grief and the hunger for the pain to stop but, as per Shar's intent, it keeps coming back, with less and less positive memories to soften the pain. A wound that festers and never heals. Is the obsession with Isobel because she's the icon of everything that was good in his life, and her loss was the moment everything good was gone? Was he a rational man who turned to Shar to stop the pain in a moment of understandable grief and rage at her sister, and then was trapped in a cycle that destroyed everything that was good in that man until we get the General?

Just guess working my way through his entire backstory...

[8ball-wizard]

So how does one cope with losing an awesome weed smoking mom? Asking for me. Idk how long it's been for you and if you have anything you'd feel comfortable sharing about it.

oh god what a heavy question. a good one, but damn, okay.

i think my best advice for when you lose someone is to definitely be ready for literally any emotion about it. grief is an amalgamation of every overwhelming feeling you could possibly feel at once, and whichever one's strongest is the one you've gotta roll with when it hits. I spent time angry, miserably sad, uncomfortably relieved, and lost. lost, lost, lost. all of it makes you feel like you're going to die, too, but none of it will kill you. you just gotta sit with the feelings and feel them. the only way out is through.

you never stop grieving either! three years on, i'm not constantly drowning, but birthdays, holidays, and the day she died are still "hide under the blankets" days. shit, my birthday's in less than a week and it's already bittersweet. and it's always gonna be the same thought: "they should be here. it's fucking unfair that they're not here." it's true every time.

reach out to people. talk about it with your family, or find a local group, or just hit up someone who went through it, too. losing family at any age fucking sucks. losing them young is genuinely the goddamn worst

also, don't be afraid to look into grief counseling or therapy. that shit's MADE for helping you unpack and process everything you're feeling.

and, last bit: find a way to feel connected to them. i'm not particularly religious, but i think there's a million ways to feel someone's with you after they're gone. i pay more attention to politics and science and tech because i know she liked staying in the know. i watch weird movies and YouTube drama because it's what she did with a lot of her time. i got back into photography because she would be proud that i didn't give up after all.

it's not easy. but it's an incredibly universal pain. you're not alone, it'll get easier to manage, and, eventually, thinking about them will be a splash instead of a tidal wave. if you want to talk about it, feel free to message me.

[scarletarosa]

Dionysus

Greek god of madness, wine, vegetation, fruitfulness, virility, pleasure, festivity, frenzy, and theatre

Dionysus (also known as Bacchus and Liber) is the chaotic god who roams the wilds and indulges in the sensations which life has to offer. He is the inventor of wine and the one who inspires others to free themselves from their chains; leading them away into ecstatic freedom. Dionysus' sacred animals are the leopard, panther, bull, and serpent. Leopards/panthers were sacred to Dionysus due to their wild and often chaotic natures whereas bulls and serpents were sacred due to them representing male fertility. The god was said to ride on the back of a panther or drive a chariot drawn by a pair of them. His sacred plants are the grapevine, ivy, bindweed (prickly ivy) and pine tree. Devotees of the god wore wreaths of ivy and carried pine-cone tipped staffs.

Epithets: Ælefthæréfs (the liberator), Ærívromos (loud-roaring), Agnós (holy and pure), Ágrios (wild/savage), Ánax (lord; king), Aigovólos (goat-slayer), Anthéfs (blooming; crowned with flowers), Áreios (war-like), Chrysopes (golden faced), Corniger (the horned one), Dasýllios (wanderer of the woods), Dændrítis (lord of trees), Diphÿís (of dual nature), Ebon (youthful), Efkarpos (the fruitful), Efklayes (glorious), Elelikhthon (earth-shaking), Ephaptor (the caresser), Erivremetes (loud-thundering), Eucheus (pouring freely [of wine]), Evantís (decked with flowers), Evvouléfs (of good counsel), Hyes (lord of fertilizing moisture), Igiates (the healer), Kharidóhtis (joy-giver), Kissós (of ivy), Krýphios (the hidden one).

Dionysus was usually depicted as a handsome, long-haired young man who was usually clothed in a long robe (chiton) and cloak (himation) and crowned with a wreath of ivy-leaves. In some depictions, the god is shown with bull horns on his head. His attributes included the thyrsos (a pine-cone tipped staff), a drinking cup, and a crown of ivy. He was usually accompanied by a troop of Satyrs (goat-men of virility) and Maenades (wild female devotees). During his festivals, Dionysus was said to rush through the woods with the Maenads and tear apart wild animals with frenzic glee while also having drunken orgies with each other. He is also called both by Greeks and Romans as Bacchus (Bakchos), that is, the noisy or riotous god, which was originally a mere epithet of Dionysus. 

As far as the nature and origin of the god Dionysus is concerned, he appears in all traditions as the embodiment of chaotic power in nature, whereas Apollo is mainly a refined deity. Dionysus is the productive, overflowing, and intoxicating power of nature, which carries humans away from their usual quiet and sober mode of living. Wine is the most natural and appropriate symbol of that power, and it is therefore called "the fruit of Dionysus". Dionysus is, therefore, the god of wine; the inventor and teacher of its cultivation, the giver of joy, and the disperser of grief and sorrow. Though he also represents both effects of wine- the ecstatic blissful side, as well as the violent, maddening side. He is of the bright, joyous Sun as well as the maddening and unknowable Moon.  

Mythology: In myth, Dionysus was said to be the son of Zeus and the princess Semele of Thebes. During the course of her pregnancy, Zeus’ wife, Hera, tricked Semele into asking Zeus to appear before her in his full glory. Bound by oath, the god was forced to comply and she was consumed by the heat of his lightning-bolts. Zeus recovered their unborn child from her body, sewed him up in his own thigh, and carried him to term. After Dionysus’ birth from the thigh of Zeus, Dionysus was first entrusted to the care of Seilenos (Silenus) and the nymphs of Mount Nysa, and later to his aunt Ino, Semele's sister, and her husband Athamas. Some versions say Zeus instead entrusted him to Hermes, or to Persephone or Rhea. Hera was now urged on by her jealousy to throw Ino and Athamas into a state of madness, who then killed both of their children and themselves. Zeus, in order to save his child, changed him into a ram, and carried him to the nymphs of mount Nysa, who brought him up in a cave, and were afterwards rewarded for it by Zeus, by being placed as Hyades among the stars.  

During Dionysus’ young adulthood, he traveled the lands- teaching people of wine and of his divinity. The Thrakian king Lykourgos attacked Dionysus and his companions as they were travelling through his land and drove them into the sea. As punishment, the god inflicted him with madness causing him to murder his wife and son and then mutilate himself with an axe. King Pentheus of Thebes refused to accept the god's divinity and tried to apprehend him. Dionysus retaliated by driving the king's daughters into a crazed frenzy and they tore him apart limb from limb. As Dionysus was travelling through the islands of the Aegean Sea, he was captured by a band of Tyrrhenian pirates who planned to sell him into slavery. The god, however, could not be shackled or tied down; the bindings slipped away from him each time as Dionysus simply smiled. He then changed the mast and oars into serpents, and himself into a panther; he filled the vessel with creeping vines of ivy and the sound of flutes, so that the pirates, who were seized with madness, leaped into the sea, where they were transformed into dolphins. 

Appearance: Dionysus is a tall, attractive man in his late 30’s with long, wavy brown hair, brown eyes, strong facial features, and fair skin. He typically wears a white Greek robe with sandals and adorns his hair with ivy. He tends to be rather alluring in his appearance and basically looks how an ancient Greek male model would appear.  

Personality: In my experiences with Dionysus, he is very outgoing, charming, creative, flirtatious, laid-back, and can be impulsive. He loves all forms of pleasure, especially wine and sex. Dionysus has stated that he usually likes to go around seducing women, but also likes to seduce effeminate men since he enjoys dominating them. In his good-natured mood, Dionysus is friendly, jovial, and charismatic; welcoming others to join him in the enjoyable experiences of life. He says that he does not require his followers to partake in drinking alcohol or having sex, but simply seeks those who wish to feel free and unhindered by the constraints of society. Thus is the reason for his worship often taking place out in the wilds. In Dionysus’ darker side however, he can be extremely destructive and terrifying.  

He typically hates overly serious people, being too organized, strictness, and those who harm innocent creatures for no reason. When a person harms an innocent, Dionysus’ mood takes a drastic change and his form changes into something horrifying. His eyes become blood-red and his mouth deforms into a large serpent-like mouth with enormous fangs, then he attacks the person in a wild frenzy. His terror can cause petrification and madness in those who see him and they rapidly get torn apart. When angered, Dionysus becomes the Devourer of Flesh and either consumes his enemies or causes disturbing hallucinations and intense horror. Yet with most people, Dionysus is very entertaining to be around and often likes to make sexual jokes or tease, but he can become a bit serious when the need arises. He is very up-lifting and likes to teach people how to have fun with their lives and become less emotionally burdened by the demands of society. He loves things such as racing (especially horse racing) gambling, orgies, forest groves, and just enjoying himself in general.  

Dionysus has explained himself to be an aspect (shard) of the elder deity of virility, Set, who had also produced other aspects of himself such as Cernunnos, Pan, and Bes. The aspects are all One deity in essence, but due to free-will, they are independent from one another which allows them to have separate (yet very similar) personalities and desires. 

Offerings: wine, sparkling wine, white wine with pine resin (retsina), figs, grapes, pomegranates, apricots, potatoes, cauliflowers, eggplants, broccoli, horseradish, beetroot, parsnips, spring onions, strawberries, watermelon, peaches, cheese, lamb, goat, veal, chicken, cheeseburgers, ravioli with minced beef, chicken korma, lamb’s tongue, cow liver, chicken hearts, ram brains, coconuts, coconut oil, kumquat, ivy, pinecones, pinecone cores, chestnuts, walnuts, raisins, ritual goblets, tambourines, honey-coloured beads, tigers eye, watermelon tourmaline, chrysoberyl, amethyst, bull’s eye stone, dildos, various sex toys, canes, cum, bull figurines, leopard or panther figurines, incense of poppy, opium, or pine resin