#⬅️ also new personal tag

[a-garden-of-worlds]

I keep thinking I'm almost done with my new pfp but there's still a shit load of smaller details that I need to do uuuhgffgjjhtfgjjhgf

[zepskies]

Take Me Home - Part 1

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: Welcome to my first ever Big Sky series! I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now. I’m so glad I finally get to start sharing this with you! I truly hope you enjoy the ride. (Note: This is set towards the beginning of season 3.)

Song Inspo: “Fly Away” by John Denver. And remember, you can listen to the full Take Me Home Playlist ⬅️ here.

Word Count: 4,400

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, a bit of setup, “Glamper Girl,” and a side helping of cops enjoying baked goods…

❤️ Series Masterlist

Part 1: All of Her Days

“This really feels like cheating,” you mused.

Yet again, you surveyed the sheer size and luxury of this tent you were supposed to be “camping” in.

Between the giant king-sized bed with crème and burgundy comforters, a two-seater dining table, a dresser (with a vanity), and even a small bookshelf, it looked like the Taj Mahal of glamping.

“Can’t you just enjoy it?” your best friend replied, poking a teasing finger into your side. She smirked when you flinched and gave her some playful side-eye. “My parents are the ones footing the bill, anyway.”

“Of which, I intend to pay them back for my half,” you said. Mary just rolled her eyes and waved you off. Her parents’ money was something she’d never had a problem spending.

“Come on, they’re getting ready to go on the hike without us,” she said, tossing her little purse over her shoulder. You were a bit more practical with your backpack, filled with a bottle of water, a couple snacks, bug spray, and your sketch pad.

Mary bumped your shoulder with hers as you two walked out of the tent, and you gave her a smile. You were glad she insisted on this little week-long excursion. It gave you exactly five more days to enjoy the fresh air of no responsibilities, before you returned to reality.

“So where are you guys from?” you asked a couple of walking companions on the early-morning hike.

The woods of Helena, Montana were vast and deep, and you found them a bit intimidating. You were a city girl, through and through, but you were learning to appreciate the mountains and the steep trails flanked by dense trees. You were also grateful that you weren’t alone. 

Emily seemed to be a nice girl around sixteen, while her stepfather Avery was a lightly graying man in his 40s. You pegged his accent as English, the “casual posh” kind. On a scale from Dame Maggie Smith to Dick Van Dyke's attempt at cockney, you’d put Avery on a Benedict Cumberbatch level.

“Well, I met her mother in Houston,” Avery replied, nodding at the girl beside you. “She and Emily joined me here in Helena after we were married this past spring.”

Emily confirmed with a nod. “Yep, starting school here in a few months.”

At that, you could smile. “Me too, actually.”

Emily gave you a confused look while she fiddled with an app on her phone.

“What? You’re still in school?” she asked.

“No,” you laughed. “I’m—”

“She’s a college professor,” Mary tacked on. “AKA: a giant nerd.”

Emily tried not to smile at your expense. You just shook your head at your friend.

“Thanks,” you said wryly, despite your amusement. “We can’t all be personal trainers. One can only take so much Spandex.”

Mary rolled her eyes and prepared to fire back a retort, but your attention shifted back to Emily, who seemed to be debating whether to press a red button on her phone. You thought it looked like a voice recording app.

You followed her line of vision and saw Paige and Luke up ahead—a young “happy couple” here at Sunny Day Excursions. They were whisper-yelling at each other, sniping something about Luke’s birthday. Apparently, he had a problem with getting another year older.

Don’t we all, you thought, with no small amount of sarcasm. The guy had been a sour apple since the start of this trip, and to be honest, he was starting to get on your damn nerves.

“This is like, prime time stuff for my podcast,” Emily whispered.

You looked over at her. “Oh yeah? What’s your podcast about?”

“Relationships, lies, that sort of thing,” she replied.

You almost grimaced. Good luck finding willing subjects for that one.

Mary snickered on your other side. She leaned close to your ear so only you would hear.

“God, Paige’s voice is so effing annoying. Like a chipmunk on helium,” she said. “I feel sorry for him.”

You shot her a dry look. “He’s the one asking for it, if you ask me. But they’ve been going at it the whole time. Makes me feel sorry for both of them.”

You shook your head and kept walking on the trail. Mary sobered as she stared back at you. She was reminded of why you two were really here, and what you’d been through this past year…

What you all had been through.

You and Mary fell behind Avery and Emily on the trail, giving Mary the opportunity to touch your arm and stop you in the middle of the trail.

“Do you really plan to stay here?” she asked. “In dusty-ass Montana? With the snakes and the bears and the old hicks?”

“Well, I got the key to my apartment before we got here,” you said. And she knew that. “My aunt is letting me crash with her until the rest of my things ship over in a couple of weeks, and I start a new job in the fall. So yeah, I’m staying.”

Mary’s lips pursed. She gave you a long look, but you held your ground. You even popped your Airpods in for good measure. You were done with this conversation.

She huffed and kept walking.

You watched your friend go in annoyance. You knew she would try to talk you out of your decision at some point on this trip, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Heaving a sigh, you looked up at the clear sky above you, filtered through the tall trees. You took a moment to collect yourself in this great big no man’s land, where you could finally let yourself slow down for a minute, and breathe.

You raised the volume in your Airpods when a particular song came through.

“All of her days have gone soft and cloudy. All of her dreams have gone dry,” crooned the soft melody. You nodded to the rhythm of the mellow notes, but all the while, you tried to blink through the sting of tears.

“All of her nights have gone sad and shady. She's getting ready to fly…”

You rubbed your left hand, where you still had the tan line of the ring you used to wear.

“It’s really okay, sweetie,” Mary tried to console you, rubbing her hand between your shoulders.

After the hike, you all had returned to camp and sat down to brunch. It was an amazing spread, with waffles and muffins and Danishes, eggs done three different ways, toast with jam, assorted sandwiches, coffee and orange juice (and sparkling wine for the adults).

But even with a huge plate of appetizing food in front of you, you were sulking a bit. You had your face covered by your hands as you rested your elbows on the table.

“One of my only goals on this trip was to ride a damn horse, and I couldn’t even do that,” you said.

Sunny Barnes and her husband Buck were the heads and hosts of this whole trip. And after the hike, their son, Cormack, had tried to help you onto the nice chestnut mare the handler had brought out of the stable for you. But your entire body had locked up in fear at the prospect of being vaulted onto the horse.

In fairness, she was huge. And you were both afraid of heights, and animals that could buck you off its back and trample you.

You hadn’t been able to speak. You just shook your head vigorously every time Cormack asked you if you were okay.

So he’d graciously patted your back and gave the mare to Emily instead.

“I’ve never been able to ride a horse either,” Avery offered in commiseration. You lowered your hands and gave him a wan smile.

Emily was carving an apple with an impressive (and somewhat scary) looking pocketknife. She shrugged.

“It’s not so hard,” she said. But, perhaps realizing how she sounded, she looked up and gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get it! It’s hard in the beginning, but once you get used to it, it’s like riding a bike.”

Right. A bike with hooves, you thought, ripping a piece of bread from your egg and cheese sandwich.

Mary bumped your shoulder with a teasing smile. “You just got showed up by a high schooler. Again.”

You pursed your lips in amusement. You tossed the piece of bread. It hit her dead between the eyes. You giggled at the way she jumped with a start.

“Real mature,” she shot back.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a giant bite of your sandwich for good measure. “I learned from you.”

Even Emily snickered, making Mary roll her eyes in amusement.

Shortly after, Avery and his stepdaughter were finished with brunch and got up to get back to their tents.

You glanced over and noticed that Emily had left her knife on the table, now closed in its sheath.

Sheriff Beau Arlen may have still been relatively new in town, but he considered himself a consummate professional.

He’d agreed to accompany Cassie, the local private investigator (and his friend), up to this mountain pass to look for a missing backpacker. Questioning Buck and Sunny Barnes and their crew was just good old-fashioned, thorough police work.

But if it also gave Beau a chance to check on his daughter up here “glamping” with her half-baked stepfather, then he couldn’t pass up on that opportunity, now could he?

After talking to Buck and Sunny, who hadn’t seen hide or hair of the backpacker, Beau let Cassie take care of questioning Cormack Barnes while Beau found his daughter outside her tent. After giving her a big hug and inspecting her “tent” (Really? he thought. Looks more like a hotel room than a tent.), he asked her how her trip was going so far.

“Good, Dad. But you really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Emily said. She was amused, but no longer surprised to see him.

“No, no, no. I didn’t, okay?” Beau refuted. Though at the look on her face, he knew he wasn’t fooling her. She was a sharp kid. “All right, maybe not the only reason. We had to talk to Sunny about a missing backpacker. It’s something Cassie’s investigating.”

Emily’s amusement faded into surprise, and then concern.

“Wait, what?” she said.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing. Just, you know…parents probably didn’t get the memo that ‘off-the-grid’ was part of the deal,” he said, giving her a meaningful raise of his brows. Maybe his daughter didn’t have to screen so many of his calls while she was on this trip.

“Overprotective parents, huh?” Emily dryly remarked.

“The worst,” Beau agreed, shaking his head.

But he smiled. Just seeing her made his whole week better…and it alleviated some of the hurt in his heart. Not getting to be with her on a trip like this stung. And knowing Avery was the one who got to be there for her grated on him.

Beau was already missing too much of his daughter’s life, and he still wasn’t too sure on how to deal with that.

Speak of the devil, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Avery approaching. Beau forced himself to look as close to pleasant as he could get around his ex-wife’s husband.

While Mary went back to the tent to freshen up, you grabbed Emily’s pocketknife and went to look for her so you could return it. It had a wood-carved hilt and had her initials, E. A., engraved on the side. The knife looked special, not the kind of thing you wanted to lose.

You found her outside her tent with her stepfather, and a man you didn’t know. He had broad shoulders and short brown hair that swept above his brow. When he turned to look at you, the first thing you noticed was the cut of his bearded chin, and then the green of his eyes.

You didn’t realize it, but your insides stilled, just for a moment. Then you remembered to smile.

Avery looked a bit tense, as did the newcomer. You sensed you were interrupting a tete-a-tete. 

“Uh, hi. I’m sorry,” you said, and extended the sheathed knife toward Emily. “Just wanted to get this back to you. You left it at the table.”

“Oh! Thanks,” Emily said gratefully.

“Well, hi there,” said the new guy. He was tall, you noted, wearing a beige jacket over a buttoned-down shirt, some jeans, and boots. It was a casual look, but all worked very well for him…in a rugged cowboy sense.

“This is my dad,” Emily supplied.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, ma’am,” he said, giving you a more friendly smile that you matched in kind when you shook his hand. You also gave him your name to go along with it.

“You here for a little belated vacation, Sheriff?” you added.

“No. Matter of fact, I’m here on police business,” he replied. That concerned you, but he was quick to wave a dismissive hand. “Everything’s okay here. Just checking on a missing backpacker. But it looks like we’ll have to continue our search for him elsewhere.”

You hummed at that in concern. “Well, I hope you find him.”

“I do too,” he agreed with a nod.

Then, Emily took the slight pause in the conversation as her chance to escape.

“Okay, Dad, well, we’re gonna go hike down to the lake,” she said, gesturing at Avery. “But as you can see, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Beau’s smile became a bit tight, but he nodded in understanding. He gave her a big hug, and you could see he was reluctant to let her go. Avery stood behind them. He held tension in his shoulders. You felt a bit awkward yourself, being in the midst of what was clearly an uneasy family dynamic.

Beau released his daughter. After she took off with Avery following close behind, Beau turned to you next. You tried not to blush at the sight of his handsome face.

“Sorry, again,” you said, raising a placating hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

His lips twitched upward, and he shook his head. “You’re fine. Though you don’t look like a local. You from outta town?”

I could say the same thing about you, cowboy, you thought. There was a slight southern drawl in his voice that sounded like Alabama. Maybe Texas?

“You got me,” you nodded. “I’m from Chicago originally, but…I’ve actually just moved here to Helena.”

“Ahh, a city girl,” he remarked. “Small world. I just got here a few months ago myself. Houston, Texas.”

Your smile brightened. Right on the money.

“Yeah, I figured,” you couldn’t help teasing him a little. His grin kicked up in the corner.

“How’re the mountains and fresh air treating you then?” he asked. “Better than that blanket a’ smog in Chicago.”

“We do not have smog…or, well, not that much,” you laughed, “but yes, I’m actually really liking it here so far. I mean, I just got here about a week ago. I’m still learning. Though Emily actually tried to help me ride a horse today.”

“Yeah?” His brows raised. “How’d that go?”

You had to laugh. A kind of self-deprecating laugh that had you half-covering your face to stem off your blush.

“Not well,” you admitted.

Beau ducked his head with a smile. He met your eyes in amusement, but not without kindness.

“Well, here’s a tip for ya,” he said. He planted his feet, held his hands up into lightly clenched fists. “The trick is in the legs. Grip tight, but not too tight. He’ll think you’re rarin’ to go.”

You blinked a bit wider. Was that just honest advice…or was he sort of flirting with you?

It made you blush in earnest.

“Ah. Good to know,” you said with a laugh. He treated you with a tip of his imaginary hat.

“Hey,” someone called out.

Both of your heads turned to a tall black woman with long curly hair. She gave you a polite smile before she nodded up at Beau.

“You ready to go?” she asked.

“Ah, yep,” Beau nodded. He gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry, gotta get back to the station.”

“Oh, of course,” you said. But you held up a finger. “Wait, just a sec.”

You hastened back over to the table of confections from brunch and offered them a chocolate chip muffin each for the road. Cassie politely declined, but Beau gladly took his.

“Although, are you trying to stereotype me or somethin’?” he teased.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but after a moment, it hit you. You’d just given a cop a baked good.  

“At least it wasn’t a donut,” you quipped, despite your embarrassment. Beau still looked bemused, but he let you off the hook.

“That’s okay. I’ve never been known to turn down free food,” he assured.

“He really doesn’t,” Cassie confirmed. You noticed how she was waiting, arms crossed.

“Well, there you go! Sorry for keeping you,” you said.

“Not at all, darlin’,” said Beau. His smile had a charming gleam. “Nice to meet you.”

You quirked a smile back. “Wow, you are from Texas.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been called darlin’ in your life.

Beau’s good humor shifted into slight embarrassment himself.

“Sorry. I’ve been told to stop doing that,” he said. When he chuckled, you did along with him. You weren’t offended by it, just surprised by the old-fashioned endearment.

“It’s okay,” you said. “Nice to meet you too, Sheriff.”

You raised a hand in goodbye, and Beau returned it, watching you go. Meanwhile, Cassie watched him with a small smirk. He stepped down from the short platform in front of Emily’s tent to meet her.

“Were you just checking out Glamper Girl? In front of your daughter, no less,” Cassie remarked.

Beau shot her a look of denial. “I did no such thing. I’m a professional. And a gentleman, mind you.”

Cassie rose a brow at him. It stirred up a bit of his defensiveness. 

“But, I’ll have you know that Em had already moved on when I had a friendly conversation with the glamper,” he said.

Cassie rolled her eyes. Right.

That afternoon, you decided to bring your sketchpad and your modest collection of paints to the lake. You sat on the bank and tried to paint, while Mary joined the others in swimming.

“That looks nice,” Emily’s voice startled you from behind.

You twisted to look at her, and she gave you an apologetic look. She was dressed to go for a swim in a one-piece bathing suit and some shorts. She seemed more of a conservative dresser than typical high school girls her age. Maybe that had something to do with a policeman being her father, or maybe that was just her personality.

“Sorry,” she said, raising her hands.

“It’s okay.” You waved it off and gestured for her to sit beside you if she wanted. She did so, admiring your work over your shoulder. You felt a little embarrassed by it, but you didn’t mind her watching you try to paint ripples of light on the water.

“Are you an artist?” she asked.

You shot her a smile. “You’re very sweet, but no. I just started this year.”

You’d just Googled some therapeutic techniques instead of, you know, going to therapy. You just knew that if you did, your aunt would probably tell your parents, who would never let you hear the end of it. Specifically, why it was a waste of time. Your father especially would have something to say.

But one of the sources you found suggested trying out some creative outlets to calm the mind and think productively, but not create more stress for yourself. You’d tried a few different things, but landed on painting. It was working for you so far, even if you didn’t think you were that good.

“How do you like Montana so far?” you asked your companion. “Your dad told me you guys just moved here too, a few months ago.”

“Yeah, when my mom got remarried, my dad moved to stay close to me,” Emily explained.

Your brows raised. Your painting hand paused with the brush near the page.

“Well, that’s a good father,” you said. You smiled at the thought of Beau Arlen. The way he hugged his daughter before, like she was his entire world, and the fact that he’d moved entire states just to stay with her, told you a great deal about the town’s new sheriff.

Emily nodded, but her lips were pressed. “He’s a bit overprotective.”

“Well, he is a cop,” You said, smiling. “I assume that’s just part of the package.”

“I get that,” she said. “It’s just…a bit much sometimes.”

You gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand. My dad can be like that too. He’s got his soft moments, but he can be a real tough nut too… He’s a retired fireman.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” Emily said. She looked impressed. “Did you ever want to be a firefighter?”

You chuckled. “No, and he never wanted me to. It just wasn’t my beat, anyway.”

In the many years before your father had risen in the ranks to firehouse chief, your mother had often worried about him when he was on shift. Being a firefighter in inner-city Chicago had brought some hard and dangerous calls.

But you had always been more bookish, and both your parents were grateful for that.

You sighed. Your paintbrush made a stroke of deep green on the page, creating darker shades in the bottom of the lake.

“I did end up dating one though. Almost married him too,” you muttered, before you could stop yourself. You forgot you were talking to an insatiably curious girl.

“Really? What happened?” she asked. You looked over at her, and she was staring at you with her full attention. You remembered then that her podcast was supposed to be about relationships, but you had no desire to be a subject.

“It didn’t work out,” you said at last, and with difficulty.

“Why?” Emily asked.

Your internal struggle kept you quiet. It gave time for Emily to really see the withdrawn, almost pained look on your face, the slight hunch of your shoulders. She deflated guiltily.

“Uh, sorry,” she said.

You offered a small smile. “It’s okay, honey.”

“I’ll uh, just let you get back to painting,” she said. You waved her goodbye after she got up and left, giving you one last look before she joined her stepfather in the lake.

You let out a deep breath. The teen was tenacious, and naturally curious. That in itself wasn’t such a bad thing. But as you watched her splash at Avery, laughing that weightless laugh that kids got to have, you realized how much you missed being that young and free in your heart.

Again, out of habit, you set down your brush and rubbed at your empty left ring finger.

Mary finally joined you back in your shared tent after a long night of socializing by the fire. You had kept to the tent, reading Much Ado About Nothing for one of your classes that would start in the fall. It wasn’t your first time reading the Shakespeare play, by any means, but you did want to brush up on it.

“You know, you’re actually supposed to be vacationing on this vacation,” Mary pointed out. She started changing into her pajamas for bed. You were already cozy in one of your old college hoodies and some shorts, not to mention snuggled under the warm blankets.

“I am,” you said defensively. “I hiked, I painted, I ate no less than one burger, a basket of fries, and three smores, and now I’m reading.”

“Yeah, for school,” she pointed out. “I may not be as smart as you, but I know homework when I see it.”

You shot her a smile. “You’re plenty smart, M.”

She snorted and slipped into bed beside you. It felt like the sleepovers you two used to have in college, years ago, when she’d come to crash in your dorm, or you in hers. She’d been a philosophy major (despite not giving two shits about Socrates), forced to attend college by her parents. You were an English major, working three part-time jobs just to get you through until graduation.

“Hey,” she said, laying a hand on your shoulder. You turned to her in question. She seemed more serious than usual.

“I’m worried about you,” she said. “And I’m not the only one.”

You sighed. Lowering your book, you leaned back against your pillows and stared up at the tent’s fairy lights.

“I know,” you replied. “But you don’t need to be.”

“Yeah you keep saying that, but you know the real reason I’m here, right?” Mary asked. Her insistent hand on your arm made you meet her eyes.

“You don’t have to do this," she said. "You don’t have to move out here and leave everything behind. You should just come home with me. Your parents, our friends—everyone wants to be there for you, like we have all year.”

Your lips pursed, and you shook your head.

“I’m not going to change my mind. So if that’s really why you’re here, and not to just spend some time with me, as my friend, then you should just go home,” you said. “I’ll leave here and go to my aunt’s house. I’m sure your parents can negotiate some kind of refund.”

Mary got angry and huffy, just like you thought she would. You weren’t playing around though. This was your life, and your decision.

If your friends and your family couldn’t be happy for you, or at least understanding, then they could at least respect you. You just weren’t sure when they’d get the hint that this was real.

You were moving to Montana, permanently.

On the drive back into town from the camping site, Beau ate his chocolate chip muffin and tried his best to listen to Cassie—to her theories on where the backpacker might’ve gone, and how best to tell the parents to keep her on this investigation.

A good part of him was still thinking about his daughter, wishing he could be there with her right now. 

And maybe, his mind occasionally wandered…thinking about the pretty shade of your eyes when you smiled at him.

AN: And there we have it, Part 1 of a new series! If you liked it, please let me know! 🥰

And a special Happy Birthday to @jackles010378! 💖 I was going to say we're both Aries (mine is next month) but forgot Pisces comes first lol. ♓

Next Time:

The trees were tall and dark now. The moon was filtering through them like the sun had during other day hikes, but it was much more ominous at night.

“Shit,” you muttered. You gripped your flashlight in worry as panic started to well up in your chest.

Now you were lost.

You jumped with a start when the hoot of a bird passed by overhead.

Shiiiit. This was very bad.

You kept moving forward on what you thought was the trail. That was all you could do, keep moving forward. You made a few turns around some trees, occasionally calling out for Sunny, or Mary, or anyone to hear you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@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

[ice-block]

I got a few new followers last night without any posts blowing up so I assume y’all are here from Twitter, there’s a few of these posts around but just as a reminder on how tumblr is:

- you can swear here

-there is not a shadow ban feature

- likes really don’t do anything for engagement, they’re more of a bookmark feature

- most people prefer to talk in the tags over commenting, it’s like commenting but quieter

- tags are also great for adding trigger warnings or organizing so you can find stuff later, if you’re going to add a tw to a post, don’t censor it or it won’t work

Ex: #bl00d ⬅️ don’t do that, #blood ⬅️ do that

- tumblr is a personally curated dashboard, find your people and follow them, if you don’t like them, unfollow them. unlike Twitter it is actually 100% achievable to never see discourse if you don’t want to see it. Have fun!

[psychotomy]

Time to make a new Pinned😦😦

Hello I’m DerB/ Deroblain/ call me whatever, Previous ID i-need-itlives-prequel. pretty much half-inactive: I come here I dump art and I disappear for a long time

I speak Eng/Chi, posts are 90% ocs 10% fanart

Currently in a mild potf brainrot so I’m more active seeing how I’m churning out fanart and such. ⬅️ I fantasize about their various music video characters and randomly link them together for interactions/one-off stories and such. It’s my personal favorite thing to do for incredibly beautifully executed, seemingly-plot-heavy, but lore-ambiguous media

Those 10% might include anything of the following:

Favorites: darkest dungeon / cultist simulator / book of hours / it lives in the woods / it lives beneath

I also play: chants of sennar / rainworld / signalis / oxenfree 1 & 2 / balatro

I listen to: buckethead / will wood / poets of the fall

My main ocs, tagged #VHUN and #Vulnerant Hora Ultima Necat are sci-fi based, more specific info on their artfight profiles. The question box is open too for questions about them. Just keep in mind that it may take a long time for me to answer tho

[multiversxwhore]

a/n:*asmr whisper* hello…you, did you think this story would continue, well honestly neither did I. Looks like we both are magnetically pulled towards dark twisted shit. Congratulations, you’re a psycho, welcome to the club. I can only hope that I keep your interest for as long as I decide to keep this fic going, because obviously I’m an attention whore. Do not share my content outside of tumblr, do not repost my content as if iota yours. If you do…I will find you. Also as a simple reminder, my stories aren’t for minors, this is 18+ content. One more thing, SZA is the ‘actor’ or ‘face’ for my oc as Black fem original characters are sort of my thing, if you’ve been around long enough you already know that. If you’re a person who doesn’t know who SZA is…google her she’s lovely.

Word count: 1k

Tags: @miyuhpapayuh @cardierreh15 @chaneajoyyy @gigflyers @sheabuttahwrites @michaelmajors @michaelbwriting @mochachocolatteyaya @blackpinup22 @jazziejax

Shadows that fallow you home pt.1⬅️

Pt.2

When I woke up at 6 am Monday morning, I did not think that when I showed up to work today I would be falling in love. Tucked away in the untouched corner of the classic section is where I find you, your eyes eating the pages, and I’m sure you’re not even breathing.

Edgar Allen Poe, what an interesting choice, a popular one, yet interesting nonetheless. I’m not judging you at all.

“That’s a good choice, Edgar Allen Poe, and a classic.” My hands clasped each other in front of me as I came to a stop in front of you; I didn't have a good reason for actually engaging in conversation with you. I guess I was curious, most customers don’t ever take their time to read anything before buying. But not you, you want to know what you’re investing that eleven dollars and twenty-five cents in. I don’t blame you, books can be expensive, and the last thing you want is to spend your Uber money on an eight hundred page piece of trash.

“I plan on buying this, just wanted to read a few pages first. I usually read Black authors; Toni Morrison, James Baldwin… they’re my go to reads, but I thought I’d try something new. I’ve been also going through a dramatic goth fade as well so there’s that.” You rambled, my eye caught the way your fingers were still gripping the hardcover, three more books are tucked away under your arm.

You didn’t plan on splurging did you? But turns out, you could spare an extra 30 dollars to your book hungry cause. It’s not like New York is expensive, or like you probably have to buy groceries.

“I hope so, I’d hate to have to chase you down for stealing Ms…” Please tell me your name so I won’t have to keep referring to you as ‘pretty bookstore customer lady’ in my head. You giggled pushing yourself off the wall, you offered me your hand to shake it. It was more than I could have asked for, your smile bright, and wide. Though your confidence is sky high, you still had an awkward twinge to you; as if you don't do this often, but you were taking a giant leap today for some unknown reason.

“I’m Morgan, and no I’m not here to steal, at least not today.” Her hand gently gripped mine, the daintiness of her hands are such a contrast to mine. Working with books constantly dries your skin, and no matter how much you moisturize before work, by the end of the day the pages have absorbed it all.

“Oh thank goodness you’re not here to rob me, even though you’re all of what? Like five feet tall.” Unexpectedly Morgan burst out into laughter, her hand coming up to cover her mouth, and as she tilted her head back I got a glimpse of the crystal necklace hugging your neck. Okay so three things I know about you so far: you like poetry, your name is Morgan, and you like unearthed rocks.

She rolled her big pretty brown eyes playfully, both of us lingered for a moment not really sure how to segway into the next thing. It’s so…weird, standing here with a complete stranger, but it felt like I’ve known her before. Like I should know what to say to her, on the surface one would think I flirt with women often, but no I just happen to get lucky today. Right?

“And your name is?” She rocked on her toes a little, Morgan’s nails lightly dragged over the bumpy bubble letters on the cover of the book which she held upside down. Duh dumb ass, you didn’t tell her your name.

“Michael—

“Like the archangel.” She blurted out, her eyes lit up with excitement as if she finally had been waiting to share this information. Well guess who just got much more interesting.

“Sorry, it just kind of came out, um like the first thing that popped into my head.” Morgan was starting to ramble again, any normal person would be annoyed by that, but I found this adorable. Her physical looks would confuse the hell out of me if I wasn’t a well rounded man, she’s gorgeous like a model, but by no means conceited. One could assume she’s miss popular, but here she was alone in a bookstore almost like she’s hiding from the rest of the world.

“So you know about archangels? Because I’m intrigued now.” Folding my arms I lean against a tall concrete column that went all the way up to the ceiling. She looked like I just caught her in an act, maybe it was, maybe she’s a lot smarter than she’s putting on. Playing dumb as a means of protection, she’d prefer to be played for weak. It’s kind of manipulative if you think about it, it’s also a dangerous game to play with most men.

“Uh well you know, I just read somewhere that Micheal was a powerful archangel. I think like a war Angel or something.” She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes swept the floor, then they landed back on mine. The bottom of her lip pulled between her teeth, she had closed the book, and now held it in her small hands.

“That he was, Saint Micheal is a spiritual warrior in the battle of good versus evil. All in all, he’s a protector.”

But you knew that already didn’t you?

“You know more than I do, would you consider yourself a protector?” Her tone innocent, child-like, she tilted her head to the side, taking on the characteristics of a puppy. Her eyes saying ‘teach me’ regardless of the fact of her knowing the answers.

“I would say so, I’m the oldest boy of four younger sisters, and a single mother. Women are precious, and though you all can, and will do extraordinary things, you should be cherished. Worshiped.” The tip of my tongue swiped across my lips to wet them, her eyes followed the moment before looking back up to me.

“Is that what you are? A worshiper?” Morgan tossed one leg in front of the other leaning forward, again with her playfulness.

You are playing with fire Morgan, remember what happened to Icarus.

“Because I am a worshiper, is why I’m so blessed.” We both stared into each other, then that déjà vu crept up on me again. I feel stunned looking in your eyes for this long, I’d this your doing Morgan? Are you holding me here?

After a moment she lets out a breath. “Is that what you tell all women?” She asked softly, I don’t blame her, a man like me is always too good to be true. Now I feel like I had to prove her wrong.

“Just the ones that read Edgar Allen Poe in the bookstore, and fold the corners of the pages because they’re too lazy to buy a bookmark.” Instantly she burst out into a fit of giggles again, I was becoming drunk with ego. Uh oh, that’s twice you’ve laughed at my jokes now, is this going to be our thing? Banter? Is this how we bond? Over books? Or is it possible we have more than that in common?

“Alright, that’s all the bullying I can take.”

“If you’d like to actually buy these, I can ring you up.” I kindly offer, wordlessly she agrees nodding her head, and I step to the side gesturing for her to go first.

“Ladies first.”

Morgan dropped down into a half awkward curtsy, as she walked past me I was hit with the smell of fresh roses, but it had a twinge of sweetness like fresh fruit. Maybe, raspberry? Either way, it smelled amazing, and now I was hooked. By the time we made it to the register she seemed to have become less bubbly than before. When I turned to look at her from behind the counter her lips automatically turned upward, but the smile was forced, and it didn’t meet her eyes. What in the world changed in just four minutes?

“It’s a lovely day outside, the sun's shining, any plans?” I scan the books slowly, one by one, then I paused my movements, anything to stall for time.

“Oh well you know, the typical girls night, nothing crazy. My friends and I are supposed to be getting our nails done together.”She shrugged, her tone suggested that she was excited, but her face did not match. Why force herself to socialize for the sake of others?

“Sounds fun…” I was scanning the last book, it was rude to keep her any longer wasn't it? Slowly I hit the register, right as I was going to say something her phone rang.

“Brian, what a lovely surprise.” Brian, who the hell is that? A best friend, a brother…god no, please not a boyfriend.

“Haha, no, I’m buying books….shut up I am not.” Her laughter reminded me of wind chimes, I can only hear one end of the conversation, but by the way she bit her lip I could only imagine what he was saying to her on the other end. Seriously Morgan, it was literally only 2 minutes ago I had you damn near squealing, and now this guy is just as funny to you?

“Here ya go, the receipt is in the bag.” I wanted to end this suffering as quickly as possible. How cruel of you to talk to your boyfriend on the phone right in front of me after you basically jerked me off by the classic section.

“Thank you, see ya around Micheal.” She sweetly smiled at me, then out the door, and onto the New York streets she went.

“What an interesting day indeed.” I sigh to myself, the rest of the day goes by in a blur, the only thing I could be bothered to think about was the scent of her perfume, and the way I will never have this encounter again. Or so I thought.