#arlene judge

[precodesoul]

The Age of Consent (dir. Gregory La Cava, 1932)

[metropolicinema]

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances - Part One of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock.

Word Count: 2377

Tags/Warnings: None, unless toddlers/children and parenting bother you.

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I couldn't resist--I gotta have me some Beau while writing Dean! This is a brand new story of Beau and female reader!

Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter One: Upon First Sight

All in all, it was a lousy day. Beau’s truck got a flat in the middle of nowhere and the tire proved impossible to take off. He had to pay a small fortune for a tow, additional labor for a replacement, and work was a headache and a half. He was ready for a cold beer, a nice nighttime fire, and the quiet.

But first, he had to get the beer. He’d run out the other day... which meant facing the sheer torture of the grocery store after hours. It was like all of Big Sky decided to go shopping during that time and the sheer crowd drove him insane.

Not to mention everyone and their parents suddenly had to talk to Beau, introduce him to a likely female prospect. It was as though he wore a sign over his head: ‘ATTENTION BIG SKY, SUITABLE SINGLE MALE’. Absolutely maddening. He hated it.

Ever since he and Carla split, he hadn’t been up to dating. Sure, Carla moved on, remarried—god, what a douchebag—and moved to Montana. Which meant he was coming too, because he'd be damned if he missed the last few years of Emily’s life as a teenager.

Somehow, that made him more appealing to the female population. Add to that the ‘exoticness’ of the Texan drawl, the allure of being a cop, and goddammit, he was pursued daily.

He wanted none of it.

“No, honey,” he hears some woman say, presumably to one of her offspring, judging from the harried, exhausted tones. “Now put that back.”

Yep, offspring. He heard the telltale signs of a young whine from the child and had to smile sympathetically. Then he heard something that caught his attention and raised his adrenaline: cans crashing.

He whipped around and narrowly dodged being smacked by a number of Chef Boyardee meals in a can. “Whoa!”

“Eliza!” The mother snatched up her child—maybe a little older than a year?—and popped her back into the shopping cart, buckled her up so swiftly he was impressed. “I am so sorry! You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Nope. I'm all right. The cans aren’t, though,” he said ruefully, observing the mess.

“Oh fu-fudge,” the mother said, catching herself before she could cuss in front of the kid.

“Here, I’ll help ya,” Beau offered, using his cart to detour traffic around the cans and began moving the cans away. “Wyatt,” he said, catching the eye of one of the employees. “Go get help.”

The mom raised her eyebrows in surprise. “You know everyone here?” she asked, doing her best to stack the cans against the shelf.

“Benefits of bein’ the sheriff,” he said with a smile. “Sooner or later, I meet them all.”

“You’re—“ she broke off in astonishment.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen,” he said by way of introduction. He shook her hand and was surprised by her firm grip. He hadn’t expected that from her. Maybe it was because she seemed so soft, motherly.

“I’m Y/N,” she said with a smile. It turned wry as she introduced her daughter. “That little hellion is Eliza.”

He chuckled. “Might need a little wranglin’, huh?”

“Either that or a wolf pack.”

Beau laughed. He couldn’t help it. Little Eliza actually grinned at hearing her mother say ‘or a wolf pack’, as if angling for that very purpose and existence. “You know, I know it don’t seem like that right now, but she'll get easier to manage.”

Y/N paused and lifted a brow. “You sound as if you speak from experience.”

“I guess I do,” he said, rising to his feet. He offered Y/N a hand to help her up as he said, “My Em wasn't really difficult, just stubborn. Had a mind of her own and goddamn she knew how to use it.”

He saw her eyes flicker for a moment, and wondered what it was that caused her react so. “Em--I'm guessing that's your daughter?”

He nodded with a fond smile. “She’s 18 now and in college.”

Y/N smiled, returning to her little hellion child. “Now you have new worries, whether she’s learning well, making the right friends, and handling peer pressure.”

“Well, thanks for the nightmares,” he said wryly.

Her smile turned amused, her eyes sparkling. “Just pointing out it never gets easier,” she said with a fond ruffle of her daughter’s hair. “Just changes in difficulties.”

He regarded her thoughtfully. “Ya ain’t wrong,” he said at last.

For a moment, they regarded each other in companionable silence. Beau was reluctant to let her go, enjoying this conversation. She seemed equally hesitant to let the moment end.

“I… I, um, thank you, for your help,” she said at last. “It would’ve been kinda hard to do all that while minding my little wolf-child.”

He grinned, appreciating her humor in handling an energetic toddler. “You’re welcome.”

Just as she turned to leave, Beau stepped forward, stammering. “Ah, wait. I hope this ain’t forward of me, but…” God her eyes killed him. “Ah… can I ask you out sometime?”

She looked so surprised he wondered what she was thinking. Y/N glanced at her daughter, and he got it. She wasn’t expecting anyone to want to date a single mom.

Luckily for her, Beau wasn’t just ‘anyone’.

“I’d like that,” she said with a slight smile. She took out a little memo pad—god, she was organized, he loved it—and scrawled a number on it. She handed it to Beau.

“You know, we could’ve traded cellphone numbers,” he said teasingly. “Didn’t need to kill a tree for it.”

“Are you saying you don’t think you’re worth a tree?” she retorted with a smile.

That caught him off-guard and he laughed. “Oh, you got a sense of humor there, darlin’.”

“I try. My wolf-child forces me to very creative,” she said with a trace of wry humor.

He chuckled and approached little Eliza in the shopping cart seat. “May I?”

A look of surprise followed by an expression of gratitude. How many would ask before approaching a child? “Yes,” she said simply.

“Heya darlin’,” Beau said to Eliza. He regarded her with the solemn mien he would give a senior citizen. He held out his hand to her and added, “I’m Beau Arlen. I’m a friend of your mom’s.”

Eliza stared at him with wide, wide eyes, taking him in. He had the sense she was seeing more of him than an adult would, weighing and measuring him. Damned if he didn’t feel shaken. “Bo-bo!”

Y/N let out a laugh, then clamped a hand over her mouth, muffling giggles. Beau grinned, his green eyes dancing. “As long as you ain’t adding something to that nickname, I’ll take it.”

Eliza giggled at her mother’s reaction. She peered at Beau’s hand, then wrapped her tiny fingers around his index and middle finger, her hand too small to take his whole hand. It was so damned adorable. “Bo-bo,” she said solemnly.

He cleared his throat to hold back the laugh and nodded. “That’s right, darlin’. And you’re Eliza.”

Eliza nodded, then dragged his hand over to her mother. “Mommy!”

Something shifted in Y/N’s expression, shuttered. Beau felt the warmth from her withdraw, and found himself confused. “Y/N?”

”We should go,” she said suddenly. “We’ve taken up enough of your time.”

Without giving him a chance, she gently freed her daughter’s grasp from his hand and pulled away with her shopping cart, leaving him staring after them in utter confusion.

As luck would have it, he chanced upon them in the parking lot. Little Eliza went into full-blown meltdown, wailing while her mother was desperately trying to get her to calm down enough to get buckled into the car seat.

“Eliza, please!” Yep. Sheer desperation, mother ready to hit tears.

Beau headed up to them, set his bags of groceries and pack of beer on the ground, and said, “Hey… why don’t I take her for a moment? Give you a breather?”

Y/N looked back at him, and yep, tears in her eyes, a look of overwhelming parenthood. Beau felt for her. She hesitated for a breath, then nodded, forcing herself to step back. “I just… can’t her to calm down,” she said, her voice quaking.

”Ah, it happens to the best of us,” he said gently, taking Eliza from the car seat. “First year we had Emily, I think between Carla and I we must’ve cried in the closet a dozen times.”

Y/N was startled. “The closet?”

“Yep.” He gently bounced Eliza in his arms, the little toddler still full on wailing. “We felt embarrassed, ya see. Didn’t want each other know we had no idea what the hell we were doin’. Or how hard it had been for us.”

“How did you two find out about the other?”

Eliza was beginning to sniffle and hiccup, which Beau took to mean she was starting to calm down. He kept bouncing her as he spoke to her mother. “Came upon her in the closet. Carla had been feelin’ sick, Emily was all over the place and nothin’ was workin’. I came home and found her there, tears everywhere.”

Beau shook his head. “We had a good long talk. We were lucky. We could lean on each other. Even then, it was damned hard.”

Eliza let out a big yawn and Beau smiled. He shifted her in his arms and she immediately slumped against him, evidently prepared to fall asleep then and there.

Y/N’s brows swooped up in astonishment. “I.. can’t decide if I should be offended or relieved you got her to calm down that fast.”

“Relieved, darlin’,” he said with a rumbly chuckle. “Go with relieved. Why don’t ya take her and I’ll get your groceries in the car?”

”Absolutely not. You hold her, I’ll do it. I don’t want to risk her waking up again,” she said with a chuckle. “I knew she was getting tired. I just had to finish shopping. Just my luck she got overtired and that was it, she didn’t want to cooperate anymore.”

Much to Beau’s amusement, Eliza let out a tiny snore. He patted the little toddler’s back soothingly, swayed in place. God, memories were coming back, of late nights trying to get Emily to go down so they could sleep, of trying to get her to hang on a bit longer so they could go home.

He’d do it again in a heartbeat. He loved his daughter so damned much.

”When they’re that age, all we can do is roll with it,” he said as she moved bags into her trunk. “We’re just lucky they’re cute enough to forget what it’s like as they get older.”

Y/N smiled a bit, but it faded quickly. “Beau… I owe you an apology.”

“What for?” he asked, his hand still patting Eliza’s back.

“For leaving as abruptly as I did earlier,” she said, her voice low and ashamed. “I… Eliza bringing you right over to me had me…” She hesitated, then finished with, “scared. It scared me.”

Beau paused in his swaying, caught off guard. Then he kept moving, considering that confession. “I imagine your daughter approving of a man you just met might be a bit difficult,” he said carefully. “Especially one who just asked you out.”

“Most men I meet… if they’re interested in me… tend to run when they hear ‘single mom’,” she said slowly. “No matter how well we got along.”

Ah. Beau nodded slowly. He couldn’t imagine how that felt, being constantly turned down because of certain circumstances. “Ain’t my place to judge,” he said at last. “You’re a package deal, far as I’m concerned. If I wanna see the momma, I gotta accept the kid, too.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment, astonished by his level of acceptance. “That’s… thank you.”

“No need,” he said with a smile. “It’s the way it is.” He glanced at Eliza and his smile widened, took on warmth. “‘Sides, she’s hell of a kid.”

Y/N chuckled, her expression softening. “She is. Thank you… for helping out.”

“More than happy to, darlin’,” he said, rubbing Eliza’s back. “I think she’s ready to go into the car seat though.”

“Do you mind?”

He shook his head and gently set Eliza into the car seat. He adjusted her comfortably and made sure to snap her in tightly. Then he grabbed a blanket in the backseat and tucked it around the little toddler. Damn, she’s adorable.

”There ya go,” he whispered to Eliza. “Sweet dreams, kiddo.”

He straightened and nodded to Y/N. “Precious cargo is all secured, ma’am.”

Amused, Y/N smiled. “Thank you, Beau.”

A part of him resisted the urge to kiss her, she looked so soft and warm. It was too soon, he knew. They haven’t even been on a date yet.

“You’re welcome.” He reassured himself the paper with her phone number was still in his pocket, then asked, “Would it be desperate or premature of me to ask you out now?”

Her smile widened, and she shook her head. “No. Go for it, Beauregard.”

He quirked a smile at hearing his full name. He hadn’t given it to her; she must’ve made some educated guesses. “All right then, darlin’. I’d like to take ya out to dinner tomorrow, if you’re willin’.”

“I’d love to,” she said with a smile.

“What time works for ya?”

She glanced at the little toddler in the car. “Is 6pm too early for you?”

”Not at all. I’ll reach out to you later, if that’s all right, arrange your address and all?”

She blinked, then smiled. “You’re picking me up?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a nod. “My mother would skin me alive if she knew I wasn’t being a gentleman.”

That clearly charmed Y/N. “Okay. Yes… text me later and… we’ll get that sorted.”

He tipped his head at her, scooped up his bags and beer. “Drive safe, Y/N.”

She glanced at him as she got into her car. God, he loved her smile, a touch crooked with a sweetness that was killing him.

He never imagined a trip to the grocery store would net him a date—let alone with a single mom. Yet, here he was, asking one out and utterly charmed by her kid.

What a life.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

[omega-red]

come on lets go king of the hill !!! COME ON WE CANT LET RADIOHEAD WIN LONG LIVE THE KING. THE KING OF THE HILL.

Round 4

Radiohead's OK Computer: I go forwards, you go backwards, and somewhere we will meet. By the middle of the decade, Radiohead was weary of the ubiquity of their 1993 hit Creep; although the record that followed it (The Bends) was a lusher, more evolved album than their first, it had failed to produce a distinctive enough sound and image for the band to undo what Creep had done. The song threatened to define the band entirely to those outside their devoted following. In 1997 the band swung for the fences with the haunting, abstract OK Computer. It was a move their label cast immense doubt on at the time, and its success then and now would cement Thom Yorke and his bandmates as soothsayers of a sort, draped not in bohemian silk robes but in white hospital sheets. It's an album that speaks to the future with dread more than wonder, that critics described as "nervous almost to the point of neurosis," but marries the uneasy experimental soundscapes with poetic, surrealist, and increasingly prophetic songwriting regarding the parallel lives we lead with technology. Featuring the singles Karma Police, Paranoid Android and No Surprises, OK Computer is hailed by many as the band's masterpiece, and is often cited by music publications as one of the greatest albums of the decade: it's certified double Platinum in the US and five-times Platinum in the UK, and in 2014 it was included in the United States National Recording Registry as "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant."

King of the Hill: That boy ain’t right. King of the Hill is an animated television series created by Mike Judge and Greg Daniels that originally aired in 1997. The show is essentially a slice-of-life sitcom that centers around the lives of the Hill family in the fictional town of Arlen, Texas. We tend to spend our time with Hank Hill, a tightly-wound propane salesman, his boisterous wife Peggy, their son Bobby– the fabled boy who ain’t right– and their eclectic group of friends and neighbors. Rooted in dry humor but sincere down-to-earth storytelling, King of the Hill explores the quirks of everyday life in middle America, particularly the colorful characters seen in a politically-divided 90s Texas. The show delves into a wide range of topics, from family dynamics to cultural and societal issues; despite its somewhat meme-worthy status, King of the Hill is critically acclaimed, and it endures in the hearts of fans for its lovable character-driven writing.

[storytellers-contest-tjac]

Storytellers Contest: TJAC FAQs

(x)

FAQs (subject to change)  

Participants will receive a welcome packet with additional information. If you have questions not answered below or in your packet, please DM us on Tumblr or Discord.

What characters can I create for?

Below is the list of characters that can be used for this contest. Jensen* RPF is also welcome.  

Tom Hanniger (My Bloody Valentine)

Dean Winchester* (SPN/The Winchesters)  

Jack Durfy (Buddy Games)  

Soldier Boy/Ben (The Boys)  

Beau Arlen (Big Sky)  

Russell Shaw (Tracker)  

Mark Meachum (Countdown)  

*Jensen or his character should be over the age of thirty within the piece. 

What is the minimum word count?

There are two options. Each category will have its own prize levels.  

Novella (5k to 15K words)

Magnum Opus (25k+ words)

Can I include ships?

Yes. Except for the following (stated or implied).  

No J2/Wincest  

No Destiel/Cockles

Does the relationship of the main character(s) have to be romantic?

No. Platonic, gender-neutral, sibling, and parental relationships are also acceptable. No underage (18) sex or incest allowed.

Characters in romantic/sexual relationships should be 30+. 

Can I combine with another contest, bingo, or challenge?

No.   

Are crossovers allowed?

Yes. Crossovers with other fandoms, even ones Jensen is not involved in—MCU, Doctor Who, Sherlock, Star Trek, etc.—are allowed. The story's primary focus should still be on Jensen or one of his listed characters.  

Are AUs allowed?   No. Objectively judging characterization in AUs would be difficult.

Is canon divergence allowed?   Yes.

How is an AU versus a canon-divergent story defined for the purpose of the contest?

AU - Set in a completely different universe, and the character(s) have a different backstory. Such as Dean being a bakery owner or a photographer who travels the world instead of becoming a hunter. Or SB not being a supe but still dishing out toxic masculinity as a VP of Operations. The characters may be familiar, but the world they inhabit is not. More like original fiction with our favorite characters tossed in.

Canon Divergence - Set in the same universe/world, and the characters have the same life history. Beau is still a divorced sheriff in Montana, or Russell still works private security for the Horizon Group. It basically follows canon up until the author adds in a new character(s) or the canon characters take a different action that alters their storyline. The world and characters are familiar and true to the source material, but an event or choice not in canon changes the outcomes.

Is there a drop-out date or other checkpoint?   Yes.

Drop-out deadline: December 31, 2025

Check-in: March 15, 2026

Posting

Fanworks must be completed, edited, beta/alpha read, and ready to post by June 13, 2026  

Works should be posted, in their entirety, between June 14 and June 21, 2026, to be eligible for judging and prizes.  

Works posted before June 14, 2026, will be disqualified from the judging process.  

You may post on Tumblr or AO3. 

Please add it to the Storytellers Contest Collection here: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/StorytellersContestTJAC

If posting on AO3, please create a Tumblr post with the link so we can reblog it.  

Where do I submit the link to my post to be reblogged?

A link to the post should be shared in the submission channel on Discord between June 14 and June 21, 2026.

Where will my posts be reblogged?

Submissions will be reblogged to the @storytellers-contest-tjac blog from June 22 to June 28, 2026. If you do not see your post reblogged, don’t hesitate to contact @mod on the Discord server. Or ask in the @storytellers-contest-tjac DMs.

When does judging take place?

Judging begins June 30, 2026, and ends July 31, 2026.

The Reader's Choice voting form will be available beginning June 30 and will close on July 31, 2026.  

How will readers find my work for judging?  

Our admins will create a master post with links to all the submitted works and will reblog the post several times throughout the judging time frame.  

You may also reblog and promote your post as often as you'd like after the submission deadline.    

When are the winners announced?

August 8, 2026    

Images  

All images used in this event MUST be credited to the original creator/site unless pulled from a Creative Commons website.  

A source link must be provided. Please ask for permission before using photos taken by con photographers or attendees.  

Place source links in the post however you'd like.

Here is an example of how to keep it clean and unobtrusive - https://deanwinchesterswitch.tumblr.com/post/763369272735137792/source-x-x-x-x 

Artwork  

We will not be matching artists and authors for this contest.  

You may use artwork throughout your piece.  

Please indicate if you are the artist.  

If you are not the artist, please indicate if you have permission to use the art and give proper attribution.

Updated: 061625

[beardedmrbean]

https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/tv/tv-news/hulu-king-of-the-hill-revival-premiere-date-1236233735/

Hulu has set a date for its return to Arlen, Texas.

The Disney-owned streamer has set an Aug. 4 premiere date for its King of the Hill revival, which will come a little more than 2 1/2 years after Hulu announced the show’s return. The 10-episode season is considered a continuation of the original show, which ran for 13 seasons on Fox from 1997-2010.

The show will also acknowledge the passage of that time: The first still image from the show (at the top of this post) shows that Bobby Hill, a perpetual middle schooler during the original run, has grown up. The show’s opening credits feature the familiar alley setting and theme song by The Refreshments, but the time-lapse shows the passage of a number of years, including the Hill family moving out of and then back into their house. Watch the sequence below.

Here is Hulu’s description of the new season: “After years working a propane job in Saudi Arabia to earn their retirement nest egg, Hank and Peggy Hill return to a changed Arlen, Texas, to reconnect with old friends Dale, Boomhauer and Bill. Meanwhile, Bobby is living his dream as a chef in Dallas and enjoying his 20s with his former classmates Connie, Joseph and Chane.”

Much of the show’s original voice cast, including co-creator Mike Judge, Kathy Najimy, Pamela Adlon, Johnny Hardwick, Stephen Root, Lauren Tom and Toby Huss, return for season 14. Hardwick, who voiced Hank’s (Judge) conspiracy-loving neighbor Dale Gribble, died in August 2023. At the time, he had done some voice recording on the revival. Huss took over the role of Dale for the remainder of the season.

Judge and Greg Daniels created King of the Hill and are executive producing the revival with showrunner Saladin Patterson, Michael Rotenberg and Howard Klein of 3 Arts, and Dustin Davis of Judge and Daniels’ Bandera Entertainment. The series is produced by 20th Television Animation.

_________________________

Not sure how to feel about this other than hopeful, fingers crossed they don't screw it up.

[joydoesathing]

IT NEEDS TO BE SAID!!!

Joy… Lets just… appreciate your brain.

Like, in OG tnmn if a guys is wearing a tie, you manage to put in in the gender bend’s design (Agnes’ necklace, W’s necklace, Izabelle’s scarf, Francis’ dress she wears under the milklady coat, arlenes scarf etc etc)

You stick to their OG colour pallete! Like how Martins tie has the polka dots (ref to Margerettes dress) and Raffael’s Hawaiian t-shirt!

Hair. THE WAY YOU DESIGNED EACH CHARACTERS HAIR. I LOVE IT!

THE WAY YOU DRAW SHOES. I COULD NEVER!

You actually stick to like, 50s fashion. Like, accurate 50s fashion.

Your artstyle itself is just gorgeous

They just LOOK like their genderbend’s genderbend. You can easily tell who’s who without confusion

Character design isn’t even the SURFACE of your creativity.

YOU MAKE EXTREMELY GOOD LORE FOR YOUR CHARACTERS!!!

Im being fr, you’re a really good storyteller.

You see the characters as real life people with actual stories and views.

YOU DO RESEARCH!!!!!! THIS IS ONE OF THE THINGS I APPRECIATE THE MOST! You actually research and understand facts about the 50s and its customs and what they considered normal!

Something else I like about the characters is that they’re realistic, yes I’m extremely delusional and want Frances x Nacho to be together but they aren’t exactly made for eachother, which is why they aren’t together. WHICH MAKES SENSE!

YOU WOULD WILLINGLY CHANGE A CHARACTER’S LORE IF SOMETHING NEW IS DISCOVERED IN THE GAME! I’m mainly talking about Dr. w and Michael, you changed their age (27 to 36) when the th project document got solved, and you said youd change some things up abt Wil’s lore again in campaign mode

Okay, so this might be controversial but… I really appreciate how You didn’t draw NSFW of Nacho x Frances. Yes, they’re your characters and you have to power to draw whatever you want with them (chelsea in the corn outfit lmao) But you chose not to draw NSFW of the 2. FRANCES WAS SEVENTEEN! Imho, you made a good decision.

YOU ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND ALL THE BIASES! Martin was judged because of his eye, Wilma was judged because she was a WOMAN, and Anatolii is judged because of not having a mother and glenn and arlene are judged for their race.

THE CHARACTERS ARE REALISTIC! NONE OF THEM HAVE A ‘PERFECT’ LIFE. THEY ALL HAVE FLAWS AND PROBLEMS THAT THEY’VE FACED. I WOULD LIST THEM ALL BUT THAT WOULD TAKE FOREVER!

Okay thats chap 1 of me talking abt how much i appreciate ur au.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

My heart cannot- thank you for appreciating the effort that i invest too much into the characters 💗

when I made this AU, I initially did it for making genderbent designs for them but afterwards i thought that it would be more fun for the neighbors to have they're own individual traits and detailed stories!

i value putting in all my effort I can give to make sure everyone is their own character at the end of the day.

not to be judgemental but i kind of find it very unsatisfying when there's only certain neighbors that are given so much emphasis and detail and the rest are treated like "props" or their personality, dialogue, actions and drive are solely built around the certain character/s with a lot of detail to make them look better or have story development while the "prop" characters themselves remain stagnant with no interesting traits to them or only one-dimensional traits

and honestly for me, i feel like the characters would be more interesting and fun if they were kind of realistic ,aka have some kind of character development and have faced struggles and biases on the way, so that from there, the neighbors, while coming from very different backgrounds and lives, can still connect, empathize and make bonds with each other via similar struggles in their lives :))

so in conclusion: my enthusiasm for making genderbent designs for them + wanting all of them to be actual characters with character gave birth to what is known as my genderbend au. it became my little isolated platform in the tnmn fandom where i can go crazy with these expectations and wants for the neighbors without necessarily conflicting with the hcs that people have for the OG neighbors

(also I don't mind if you make a whole ass list)

[waywardxwords]

The Fix

Summary: Everyone has a past, but yours seemed to haunt you. You've tried to move forward with a normal life, but the day comes when that's not possible anymore. When Sheriff Beau Arlen enters your life, you're certain he is going to judge you just like everyone else in town does. But something about Beau is different.

Warnings: Warnings will be listed on individual chapters. Language, abduction, domestic violence discussion/descriptions, drug topics are a few. I reserve the right to add additional warnings as I go.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Completed 11/17/23

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 6

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, hurt, angst, more murder mystery, divorce, drinking, death

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: Welcome back, guys! I'm still trying to catch up with comments and reading, so be patient with me 😂 BUT there's a big reveal in this chapter and things are about to pick up. Can't wait to hear your thoughts on all of it. Enjoy! 🤓🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 6: Curses And Cries

March 2021

As you entered the dingy bar on the outskirts of Juárez, the smell of salsa deliciously hit your nose, causing your stomach to growl. Ever since your prolonged stay in Mexico, you had really gotten attached to the cuisine here.

After your husband’s death, you started to eat your grief in spicy carbs and worked it off with an hour-long jog in the mornings and some Brazilian Jiu Jitsu in the evenings.

And while you were eating your sadness, your companion was drowning his in tequila. Apparently, three shots in this time, judging from the empty glasses on the oak counter in front of him.

You sat down next to him and wordlessly grabbed a plastic menu, skimming through it with interest as Beau watched you from his peripheral and downed another shot.

“Oooh, they have Quesadillas here,” you hummed happily.

“They have Quesadillas everywhere here. And back home. It’s called Tex-Mex,” Beau grumbled and gestured at the bartender for a refill with his fingers.

“Maybe some Nachos, too,” you mused, ignoring his murmurs next to you. He had become quite the grump.

“You’re gonna puke at some point,” he muttered, thanking the bartender as he placed down five more shots in front of him.

“Jesus, by the looks of it, you’re the one who’s gonna puke tonight, not me,” you quipped and arched an eyebrow at his life choices. “Maybe you should order some food as well, soak up all that Don Julio. Or at least eat the limes that come with it…”

“I’m fine,” Beau said and hissed as he gulped down another glass.

“Yeah, by all means, you look great,” you retorted wryly. “What happened? What are you doing back here so soon? You were supposed to be at home the whole week. Weren’t you and Carla planning to go on that cabin trip with Em?”

Unlike you, who had come down here and never gone back, Beau made the trip home every couple of weeks for the sake of his marriage and daughter. You knew, however, from the occasional concerned phone calls with Carla that he barely kept his commitment afloat.

You tried to talk to him, tried to keep a balance, tried to send him home, but you knew deep down that you could try even harder. Selfishly, you wanted him here with you. He was your lifeline, the only piece you still had left of your husband.

Beau snorted a drunken laugh in response and grabbed another shot. “Yeah, that went downhill quickly.”

Your brow scrunched with a mix of concern and confusion. You placed a palm on his forearm in a comforting manner. “What happened?”

Beau silently reached into the inner pocket of his jeans jacket and pulled out a folded and crumpled heap of stapled papers, slapping them onto the counter in front of you. With a creased brow, you took them and unfolded them carefully, while Beau downed another shot.

“Oh Beau…” You sighed when you read over the lines that stung out and looked at him, putting the document back down. “She’s divorcing you?”

“Yup,” he replied bitterly and stared ahead, another shot raining down his throat.

You frowned and snatched the last remaining shot, drinking it before he could.

“Ey!”

“You’re cut off,” you barked sternly at his protest. “Drinking isn’t gonna make this better, you know?”

“You sure? ‘Cause it certainly feels like it.” Beau grinned lazily at you. Judging by the glaze in his green eyes, you were honestly surprised he didn’t slur his words yet. But then again, you figured he had built up quite the tolerance over the last couple of months.

“Uh-huh, worked out great for you the last few weeks. You know, some would even say all the booze is what got you into this mess in the first place,” you retorted and threw him a pointed look.

Beau muttered mockingly into his empty glass, “Really? And who are those people?”

Rolling your eyes with a small sigh, you grabbed his arm and tried to get him up from the barstool. But Beau shook his head and wiggled himself out of your grip. In that moment, you wished that he was lighter and that you were a lot stronger.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not done sulking yet,” he told you and swiftly turned to the bartender once more.

Fourteen tequilas in, you were finally allowed to take him back to the motel. Getting him from the bar into the car and then from the parking lot into the room was quite the straining task. He was a big guy, his full weight resting on you as you had his arm slung around your shoulders, guiding him on wobbly bow legs.

“Where’s your key?” you demanded firmly like a kindergarten teacher talking to a misbehaving toddler.

Beau flashed you a crooked smirk. “It’s in my pocket. Go fish.”

You laughed in annoyed amusement. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that one tomorrow,” you said and dove your hand into the back pocket of his jeans, hauling out the key without further ado.

“Ow! Did you just pinch me?”

Well, some further ado.

“You bet I did,” you replied dryly, chuckling as you turned your back to him and fumbled the key into the lock.

“Oh, you’re a sly one, alright… Kinda like it,” he slurred drunkenly behind you.

You soon caught a waft of tequila as his breath tickled your neck, your gaze wandering up as his flat palm steadied on the door next to your cheek. He then leaned his forehead on your shoulder as he swayed behind you in the cool night air. A shiver ran down your spine, but you tried to remain composed.

“You smell nice,” he noted with a smile in his voice. “You always do.”

You snorted and finally managed to unlock the door. “Okay, now I know you’re really wasted,” you joked and tried to get his mind to focus on something else.

You didn’t take offense to his advances nor did you put too much thought into them. You supposed every guy, who was drunk, lonely, sad, and most of all, a man, would hit on any female in his proximity. His pride was shattered, and you were just the closest thing there to mend the pieces of his ego back together again.

Besides, you weren’t all that scared of him. Maybe currently a little uncomfortable, but that was it. You knew he was a good guy. And if it turned out he wasn’t, you had practiced enough Jiu Jitsu over the course of the last months to throw him on his ass with the power of your little pinky.

However, before you could twist the knob and open the door, he gripped your waist and spun you around. Your back hit the flat surface behind you, pressing against the fragile wood as you came face to face with him. He licked his plump lips with a mischievously cocky smile, leaning closer to you as he dipped his head.

But you didn’t move or flinch. Instead, you patiently crossed your arms over your chest and quirked your brow with an amused smile. “And what d’you think you’re doing here, gaucho?”

As long as he didn’t overstep any lines, you were willing to entertain his little flirtations for the sake of his ego. Deep down, you knew he wouldn’t go through with them anyway. Like the tequila, it just made him feel better in the moment.

As expected, the mischief soon disappeared abruptly from his face and was replaced by a surprise attack of nausea. “Puking,” he managed to spit out.

With a sigh, you grabbed behind you and swung the door open for him, watching him bolt past you into the bathroom. You heard him retching a second later.

“Told you so!” you called after him with a triumphant grin.

With a few taps of your combat boots, you waited till the silver elevator doors of the DA’s office parted with a ding. Your head bobbed mindlessly to the jazzily generic music till you reached the fifth floor and Diane’s office. For once during this case, you were excited to meet with a prosecutor. You finally struck gold and had something in your hands, even if it was just a username and a possible connection to the victims.

Depending on what your tech analysts at the FBI back in Houston would find, you hoped for an arrest by the end of the week.

“Hey, working hard, I see,” you said with a friendly smile as you approached Diane’s desk and saw the huge piles of files in front of her. It was late, too. The office was empty, her colleagues already having cleared out.

“Yeah, I’m the newbie, so I got a lot of catching up to do,” she said, chuckling softly.

You then noticed the diploma behind her hanging on the wall and nodded impressed. “Wow, Stanford Law School, huh? You’re from California?”

“Oh yeah, born and raised. And honestly, it’s not that remarkable. It’s really just like any other law school in the country,” she replied modestly.

You snorted, amused over her response. “Yeah, I doubt that.” There was a twinge in your stomach and a voice in your head.

Smart, driven, the California Penal Code, it whispered, checking off a secret list.

“By the way, I’m sorry about last week,” Diane apologized, causing your brow to wrinkle in confusion for a moment before you caught on. Her voice sounded secretive like the two of you were having a chat between friends. Only that you weren’t remotely close at all. “I didn’t mean to barge in and interrupt anything with that hottie sheriff.”

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about it,” you told her courteously, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You’d think someone like him would be married,” she commented cheekily, while you direly wished you could escape the awkwardness of that conversation.

“Divorced,” you supplied politely, trying your best to remain professional.

Socially weird, the detective voice in your mind noted.

“Oh, that explains it. Wonder what happened there. I was actually so surprised when Sheriff Arlen introduced you as his girlfriend,” Diane said and explained further, “I just noticed your wedding ring, so I assumed you were his wife.”

“Uh, no.” Your eyes flashed down to your golden wedding band around your ring finger, the urge to take it off and hide it in shame before crawling into bed with a torrid lover suddenly permeated your thoughts. As if taking it from your finger and hiding it in some pocket, out of everyone’s judgmental sight, would make the immoral affair less of a betrayal.

There’s nothing to feel guilty about, you reminded yourself sternly.

However, there was a flicker of something in Diane’s gray eyes that tugged and tore at you, cautioning you to tread carefully. That something wicked in her eyes wanted you to suffer and doubt yourself.

“So, what’s the story there? You married?” Diane asked bluntly and then shook her head, chuckling. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry. It’s none of my business.”

“No, you’re good,” you feigned your assurance with a hard smile. “Dead husband, actually. Happened a couple of years ago now.”

“Ah, well, lucky you. Sheriff Arlen seems like a catch,” she quipped, grinning.

“Yeah, lucky me,” you faux-agreed and kept your smile, although everything was killing you inside.

“So, how did you two meet? Excuse my nosiness, I’m a sucker for a good love story.” Diane’s question reverberated with charm that could’ve easily fooled anybody into thinking it was all just harmless curiosity.

But not you.

You broke a polite smile, but your stare could’ve killed her. “He was my husband’s partner back in Houston.”

“Oh, wow. Sounds a bit messy, doesn’t it?” Diane gave you a surprised look, but you couldn’t shake the feeling she had already known the answer and her question was only supposed to torture you. Your feet were starting to get antsy to leave, your hands itching to grasp your gun. When you only replied by offering her another tight-lipped smile, she cleared her throat and dropped her intrusive exam. “So, uh, what can I do for you? Any new leads?”

Pursing your lips, you shook your head. “Uh, no. It’s a tough one. We’re still chasing down several ends, but nothing concrete. Just wanted to stop by to give you the coroner’s report of our last victim. It came through this morning.” You pulled out only one file from your bag, keeping the others inside, and handed it to her.

“Oh, alright. Anything remarkable?” Diane’s smile was sharp as she leafed briefly through the report. You guessed she didn’t need to read it to know what state the victim was found in.

“Uh, no. Nothing so far. Gotta be honest with you – this case is a tough one. Might take us a while,” you lied openly. You knew she didn’t buy a word of what you said, and you could see that she didn’t care.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll solve the case. After all, you’re a smart one, Agent Y/L/N. I have no doubt you’ll catch her, eventually.” Diane sent you a confident smile.

It was the last insurance you’d needed. You knew for a fact you had never mentioned to Diane that the killer was most likely a woman. That information wasn’t anywhere in the documents you’d given her yesterday. You had kept it close. Only a handful of people knew.

You could then see it all right there in front of you as the alarm bells rang in your head. You were face to face with your killer, staring right into her gray and cold eyes, and there was nothing you could goddamn do about it.

Judging by her cunning look, she knew it, too. She wanted you to catch on. She wanted you to know it was her. She was fucking playing with you.

March 2021

“Oh God…” Beau groaned as he hugged the yellowing porcelain throne, his forehead propped up on the back of his hand, knees scraping against the chipped and dirty green motel bathroom tiles.

“There, there…” you soothed with a hint of amusement in your voice, your palm rubbing his back in comforting circles when he heaved again. “Let it all out, big guy.”

“I think this was the last of it.” Beau straightened a bit as his fingers fumbled blindly for the flush. His eyes were bloodshot and teary, his nose was red and snotty, and his lips were pale and dryer than the desert. He never looked worse.

You grinned and pulled out your phone, swiping to the camera. “Say cheese.”

Beau’s brow scrunched in confusion and betrayal. “What in God’s good name-… Why the hell would you do that?”

“You look terrible, my friend. Figured it’d be a great picture for the slideshow I’m planning for your fiftieth,” you quipped, your wicked grin widening.

“Oh God…”

“Relax.” Playfully, you rolled your eyes back, while you saved the photo to your favorites on your phone. “You’ve still got a while ‘til then. You’ve just turned forty not that long ago. I’m just planning ahead.”

“Not that.” Beau shook his head and clutched his stomach, his cheeks losing color again. His eyes widened in miserable realization. “I think it’s starting again.”

With that, he tossed himself over the stained white bowl and puked his literal guts out for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. Pretty sure you purged all the tequila and drank the entirety of Mexico dry,” you commented with a chuckle over his vomiting noises. If you ever thought the guy was sexy again, you would remind yourself to think back to this moment.

“I don’t remember you ever being this funny when I was sober.” After his last heave, Beau flushed once more and leaned back against the cool wall with an exhaustive sigh. “I think I’m really done now.”

You lifted an eyebrow. “You sure? You’ve said that a few times in the last two hours.”

He nodded with his eyes closed. “Mhm, yeah… That one felt final.”

“Alright.”

You rose from your floor seat against the bathtub and held out your hands. He glanced at them for a second before he took you up on your offer. With your help, he hoisted himself back onto his wobbly feet. You reached behind him and grabbed his toothbrush with a dab of paste from the sink, handing it to him.

You smiled. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

After he thoroughly brushed his teeth and washed his face with cold water, you accompanied him to his bed with his arm slung around your neck. While he was more sober and coherent after his vomit escapade, he was still pretty drunk. You knew the massive hangover that would hit him in a few hours would be more punishing than the desert heat.

Sitting him down on the edge of his bed, you handed him a Tylenol and a bottle of water to swallow it down. “Hydrate,” you ordered as you kneeled down on the carpet in front of him, untying his boots and slipping them off his feet.

As you straightened, your face fell right into his hands, both of his massive palms cupping your cheeks. You stared into his hazy pine-green eyes, a twitch of confusion on your brow as your breaths mingled. Your heart skipped a beat, the white noise ringing in your ears. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but you could guess.

Beau swallowed thickly and dropped his hands from your cheeks. “I should lay down.”

“Yeah, you should,” you bit, a trace of anger in your voice. Though, you couldn’t tell if it was because he almost overstepped or because he didn’t. You knew the latter would be a problem for both of you, so you decided on the first. There was no need to unnecessarily burden your conscience with imagined immorality.

Beau groaned as his head hit the pillow. His eyes found yours, a fragment of an apology fluttered across his features. “Thank you, uhm, for taking care of me. You coulda just bailed.”

“Yeah, I know. But this was more fun to watch.” You grinned teasingly.

Beau pursed his lips, chuckling lightly. “Is that the only reason you stayed? ‘Cause it was fun?”

“No, you’re also my friend, and I’d never desert you. We leave no man behind, remember?” you said with a smile, quoting one of the cliché lines your task force team repeated often. “‘Sides, you and I are trauma bonded.”

“Alright.” Beau bobbed his head pensively, his lips curled. “So… on a scale from one to ten, how full is my quota for tonight to do somethin’ stupid again?”

Your heart twisted and clenched in your ribcage. You knew what he meant. He couldn’t have been clearer. It was all written in his eyes as bright as the stars in the sky when he looked at you, only a dangling question of “May I?” hanging in the air between you two.

“Twenty,” you said firmly and held your chin high, swallowing thickly. “I think that quota is pretty fucking full.”

“That’s too bad.” On his lips flickered a forlorn smile, his hand brushing your cheek for a moment before he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered like smoke on your skin. “But maybe for the best. I’d like to remember that one, and I’m not sure I would tonight.”

A shallow scoff left your nose. “Maybe you’ll remember this,” you said with bitter anger in your voice and stared daggers at him. “You’ll always be the guy that stood on my doorstep and told me my husband was dead.”

Beau nodded with a harsh swallow of understanding and retreated, forcing some distance between you two. “Yeah, I think that’ll stick even through the tequila.”

“Good,” you bit and rose to your feet, walking to the door. “Get some fucking sleep.”

Beau’s mouth opened with a want to say something, maybe even an apology, but the door slammed harshly behind you before he got a chance. And now, all he had left was silence, a raging headache, guilt in his stomach, and regret in his heart.

Breathlessly, you arrived at the Sheriff’s Department and stormed into Beau’s office. The door was ajar as he chatted with Jenny, both of them curiously looking at you before concern took hold of their faces.

“Hey, everything alright?” Beau instantly rose from his chair, his brow knitting with worry.

“No,” you replied with a shake of your head, the alarm visible in every crease of your flushed face. “I think I’ve found our killer.”

“What? How? Who?” Beau ran down the basic wh-questions in confusion. “Weren’t you just at the DA’s office?”

“It’s Diane, isn’t it?” Jenny shot straightaway, and your eyes widened in confirmation as you nodded. “Yeah, I got a weird vibe from her, too.”

“What, no? Diane?” Beau raised his brow at the two of you in disbelief. “Okay, back up a little here. Why do you think it’s Diane? We met that woman only three weeks ago. She seemed alright. Little awkward maybe, but we can’t arrest people ‘cause they’re weird.”

“Look, I know that,” you said and crossed your arms. “And I don’t have anything concrete yet, but it’s just a feeling. I got a really strange vibe from her earlier.”

“Well, we can’t arrest people because of strange vibes either,” Beau retorted. “And if it really is Diane, arresting her at all is gonna be hard. I mean, she’s the DA on the case. Who’s gonna issue the warrant, huh?”

“Convenient.” Jenny scoffed under her breath, earning her a scolding look from her boss.

“Don’t encourage her, please.” He shot Jenny a warning and yet pleading glance.

“Look, I’m not crazy! It’s her. I’ll find proof,” you insisted. It almost sounded like a threatening promise.

“What did she say to you exactly?” Jenny questioned and cocked her head at you in interest. You appreciated her professionalism, unlike Beau who still looked at you doubtfully.

“She asked some really personal questions about me and Beau. And not in a friendly chitchat manner. It’s hard to explain. I guess you had to be there… It was weird, okay?”

“Well, you can’t really fault her for that after what she’s seen,” Beau mitigated the circumstances.

“What has she seen?” Jenny looked suspiciously between you two. When both of you responded with deafening silence and averted your gazes, she chortled. “You two really need to lock that door.”

“Alright, that’s not the point,” Beau huffed his retort with blushed cheeks.

“Can we get back to Diane being a serial killer, please?” you requested impatiently. “Look, she fits the profile. She’s got the California connection. She went to Stanford. She’s obviously wicked smart. And she also knows we're looking for a female perp.”

That caught Jenny’s attention. Her brow furrowed. “You didn’t tell her?”

You shook your head. “No, and it’s nowhere in the files. So unless one of you told her, how did she know that?”

Grabbing the football from his desk, Beau’s head bobbed pensively as he squeezed the peanut between his hands. You tried not to think about Randy, but your heart stung nonetheless. Beau seemed to notice your distracted look and quickly put the ball back down.

“Alright, what do we do next?” he asked with a clear of his throat.

“I hope whatever the tech analysts find points to her. We could also put a tracker on her car. Won’t help in court, but maybe she leads us to one of the bunkers,” you suggested and pursed your lips for the next part. “I could also talk to the other DAs on the case. If we can’t get an arrest warrant here, we can still try through the other states and extradite her.”

“Good idea. Who would–” Beau stopped mid-sentence, his eyebrows drawing together as he realized your plan. “You wanna ask Ted? C’mon!”

“It’d be the fastest way! We’ve worked together for years,” you defended.

“Uh-huh, a little too closely…” Beau muttered under his breath, earning a small glare from you.

“Would you calm down? We only went on three dates. Nothing ever happened,” you stated and looked at him, completely forgetting Jenny was still in the room, too.

“I’m gonna go for this part,” she excused herself and touched your arm on the way out. “I’ll do some research on Diane. See what we can dig up about her past.”

“Thank you. That’d be great,” you said as she left.

Beau waited for a beat, ensuring you were completely alone before he found your eyes. “Nothing happened?”

“No, I ended it before it got to that point. Mainly because I didn’t want it to get to that point,” you explained and could see him relax, his shoulders falling.

He stalked closer to you, wrapping you in his arms. He kissed you deeply, hands wandering to your ass and squeezing the cheeks through your jeans. You smiled up at him.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you teased.

“I’m not–… You know what? I am,” Beau stated almost proudly. “I don’t like thinking about losing you to some jerk. Actually, I don’t like thinking about losing you at all. It’s killing me that I almost did. I should’ve never let you close the door on me that day. I should’ve never left… At least not like that.”

“It’s okay. I’m here now… with you. It all sorta worked out. Maybe we needed that time apart,” you said softly and hoped you soothed his guilt a little. Your mind drifted back to Diane’s words. Thoughtfully, you twisted the ring on your finger.

“You okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just something Diane said,” you told him, your brow wrinkling as the bad feeling in your gut expanded. “She just asked about my ring. It was odd.”

“Well, we already know she’s a bit nutty,” Beau said and gave you a soothing smile, embracing you a little tighter as he pulled you against his chest and pecked the top of your head. But his heart ached with worry and a bad feeling.

“Yeah, I just…” You glanced at your ring again and exhaled one nostalgic breath. You then took it off and placed it in Beau’s palm, who seemed rattled by your unforeseen choice. “Take it and keep it somewhere. Throw it in a lake or feed it to a trout. I don’t care. I don’t wanna wear it anymore.”

“Y/N–”

You stopped his protest, knowing it was well meant. “No, really. It’s alright, okay? I’m ready to let go. I’m with you now… And I love you.” You gave him a smile, and he mirrored a softer one, nodding.

“Alright,” he accepted your decision and lifted the ring to your view. He opened a drawer in his desk and stored it carefully inside. “I love you, too. But I’m gonna keep it safe here in case you ever change your mind… which you can do at any point in time, no questions asked, okay?”

“Thank you.” You stretched up to meet his lips, kissing him passionately. Sometimes, it was hard to believe you’d found it twice – true love. But you were sure of it whenever you stared into Beau’s mesmerizingly green eyes. Maybe Diane was right. You were lucky, after all.

August 2020

The cookbook laid open on the marble counter by the stove, a second one with another recipe right next to it. You stared at them, your narrowed eyes wandering back and forth between ‘Brisket’ and ‘Biscuits and Gravy’ as you tapped your chin with a wooden spatula.

You had never been the best cook, as your mother would attest to, but every once in a while you tried and even had some success with the classics. Those two dishes were Randy’s favorite – like almost every Texan’s if you excluded BBQ.

You’d been gone for close to a month for an assignment that took you all the way to Arizona. You had just gotten home two days ago, and after washing a month’s worth of laundry and getting some well-deserved rest, you promised your husband a delicious meal for date night.

When the food was done, you set the table with the good china you’d received from your mother-in-law at your wedding. As you waited, you filled a glass with Merlot. Then, a second one. You stared at the hands of the clock in the dining room moving in a circle, alternating with the watch around your wrist in case either one was wrong. Every two minutes you checked your phone, scrolled through social media, and exhaled sighs. The food was getting cold, but that was the least of your problems.

You were growing anxious, steadying the slight tremble in your hand with more wine.

But when the doorbell rang, you stood up from your chair with relief and rushed into the foyer. You ignored the voice in your head that told you Randy wouldn’t have rung the damn doorbell. He would’ve just used his key. And you ignored the voice when instead of Randy, you found his partner on your doorstep.

“Beau, hey.” Your brow crinkled at the oddness of seeing him so late at your house, but your lips formed a smile nonetheless. “What are you doing here?”

You ignored the voice that warned you about the universal truth everyone in law enforcement knew about. If a partner showed up at a cop’s wife’s house, it was never good news. Deep down, you already knew why he was here. You saw it in the haunted green of his eyes. You saw it in the dark and puffy circles underneath them. You saw it in the bloodstains on his white shirt. You saw it in the bloody creases of his nails that he couldn’t entirely scrub clean before he came here.

“Beau?” The wrinkles in your brow molded into deeper cracks, hardening like cement. You took a step forward, one hand on the door jamb steadying your jittery bones. “Is Randy okay? Is he in the hospital?”

You needed him to say the words, but he couldn’t. His lips quivered, his hands trembled, his eyes filled with tears. He swallowed harshly and clasped his mouth, not knowing what to say or how to find the words. He turned his back to you, walking a few steps. Whatever courage he had to come to your door in the first place, left him the second he saw your face.

You shook your head, disbelief keeping you from accepting reality. You stood on the tracks, the freight train was coming. “Just lemme grab my jacket. We can drive to the hospital together.”

Snatching a too-large jacket from the coat rack you were sure was your husband’s, you tried to bolt past Beau, but a hand on your arm caught you and stopped you on your front lawn. You found his green eyes. He wordlessly shook his head.

“No! It’s not true,” you insisted desperately, tears starting to flood your eyes. “I just talked to him a few hours ago. I-I made dinner… His favorite. He’s coming home! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Beau’s clasp on your arm tightened, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Your tears now fell, too. Yet, you vividly shook your head and stuffed the pain down your throat until it felt like you were choking. “No, you’re wrong. You’re wrong, Beau! He’s coming home to me. He’s coming home…”

You repeated those words over and over until your sobs swallowed them all. Beau pulled you to his chest and held you tightly. You felt his tears fall like raindrops upon your head, your body stiffening and bones turning to stone as unbearable pain and grief wracked through your veins and consumed you.

“I’m so sorry,” Beau repeated, his voice muffled by your hair. His arms wrapped around you even tighter. “He’s not coming home, darlin’. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

He kept saying it as he held you – how sorry he was. But once the reality of the situation fully hit you, so did your anger. You pushed him away. As you met his gaze, he almost looked hurt by that action, but all you could find in your heart was vitriol, disdain, and blame.

“You should be. You should be sorry,” you spat through your tears. “Where were you in all of this, huh? You said you’d have his back! So, why are you here and he’s not? Where the fuck were you, Beau?”

His mouth jittered open, searching for an explanation for his own failure. “I know… I-I don’t know what happened. It just went south so fast… I-…”

“You guys told me it was a quick job,” you pointed out furiously. “In and out! ‘No big deal, darlin’,” you quoted him in mock. “It was your fucking idea to go in! I asked if you guys needed backup, and you said no! You told me you could do it on your own, you arrogant shit!”

Beau dragged a hand over his face, wiping some of the tears away. “I know.” He nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it! You got it? It’s not gonna bring him back now, is it?”

“I know. I know I fucked up. Trust me, Y/N. I know…”

You furiously shoved at his chest, pushing him back a few inches. He let you, didn’t even try to stop you in the slightest. He was willingly volunteering to be your punching bag as if it would magically better the situation and absolve him from his sins.

“You were supposed to be his partner!” you yelled so loudly all the commotion in the front yard of your quiet neighborhood had woken the neighbors, a few of them flooding out of their houses and gathering in their own yards to gawk at the spectacle.

You pushed him again. Harder this time. “You were supposed to fucking protect him!”

Another push. “You promised me you’d take a bullet for him!”

Push. “You fucking coward!”

Beau just nodded in agreement with all your accusations, his eyes brimming with tears. “I know. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

This time, you slapped him across the cheek. “Stop saying you’re fucking sorry!”

The harsh slap echoed through suburbia. Your palm tingled and stung as you watched Beau’s cheek redden with your furious mistake. You stared around you and glanced at the gasping and gaping faces of your neighbors. You clasped your mouth with both hands as you broke down and started to sob uncontrollably.

Kind and forgiving as he was, Beau pulled you back into his embrace, strong arms locking around you and soothing your anguish. “It’s okay… I’m here. I gotcha… It’s okay. I gotcha… I’m not lettin’ go, alright?”

Sobbingly, you nodded as you cried and sniffled, burying your face in his chest. You wrapped your arms around his torso and held onto him, too weak to keep standing on your own.

“It’s okay… I know,” Beau said and tucked you under his arm, leading you back to the house. “C’mon, let’s get you inside, darlin’.”

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

Welp, we know who our killer is now! Ready for the approaching storm called Diane? When it rains, it pours... 👀⛈️

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[daughterofcain-67]

𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 (epilogue)

(Beau Arlen x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After the court case was finally over and things are finally returning to normal, the sheriff comes back into your cafe just like normal and with the help of your nosey but well-meaning sister, she helps nudge Beau along to ask you out now that the case is over.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none, just fluffy Beau x Reader content 💕

Eight Months Later…

This was it.

This was the day that would determine if Andre would be getting off Scott-free or if he would be serving his time behind bars.

You hated that you had to be there as a witness. You hated that you had to describe everything that happened, describe the people who kidnapped you. What was worse was that Andre's lawyers did their best to make you out to be a liar, saying that your judgement may be impaired for whatever their reasons were.

The case seemed to take ages and you couldn't believe it was this long of an ordeal to even get court dates settled.

Now here you were, in the booths with the other families whose lives were ruined by the defendant. But Beau was right there beside you just like he had always been through this mess. He was waiting in anticipation with you, anxious to find out the jury's verdict.

You had just been called back into the court room a few minutes ago since the jurors were apparently done making their decision. When you saw them coming back into the room, you and everyone else in the courtroom stood as a part of courtroom etiquette. Though, you carefully held Beau's hand, which he squeezed a little. He seemed just as nervous as you were, despite his confident exterior.

God it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop after the jurors were all settled in their spots.

"Has the jury reached their verdict?" You heard the voice of the judge say.

"We have, your honor."

"And it's unanimous, correct?"

"Yes, Sir, it is."

Then the clerk walked over to the first juror and was handed the file before making their way back to the judge. When the judge said everyone could be seated, the room went back to being silent as he looked through the paper.

Now it all came down to this, what was on those sheets of paper that the jury handed over. It was like the entire room was holding their breath if they weren't glaring at the defendant.

When the judge said that the defendant would rise and face the jury, the judge handed the sheets back to the court clerk so she could make the final announcements.

"The state of Montana verses Andre Bolkonsky," The clerk began to read.

One by one as each of the charges were called out, Andre was guilty to a certain extent of the law if not completely guilty. He was partially guilty of your kidnapping since he orchestrated it, and of course he was guilty of your assault in the fullest.

When you heard the verdict you couldn’t help but feel this immense weight fall off of your shoulders. Yet a part of you wondered if this was really happening and if this was your reality, or if this was some kind of really good dream that you would have to wake up from just to return to some harsh reality.

“Beau…”

He looked down at you and he had a smile on his face, “It’s real, Y/N. He’s going away for good.”

That reassurance was everything you needed in that moment and you threw your arms around the sheriff, hugging him so tightly.

It was finally over and you could hardly believe it!

Morning Glory Coffee…

You never thought you would be able to come back here again. It felt so surreal to have even been able to open this place up again since your kidnapping. But now you were back in the building, bright and early and it’s been about two weeks since the trial ended.

You and Cadence were both there at the shop to straighten everything up so you can open. You brewed some fresh coffee and baked some goodies before putting them on the display table. That was when a pleasant little surprise came up.

The sound of the bell on the top of the door rang out as the door opened up. When you looked over, you saw Beau Arlen standing there.

“You’re here early.” You grinned at him and you could watch a smile begin to form on his face.

“Well, I did miss having your coffee everyday.” The sheriff said, causing you to roll your eyes, grinning at him.

“Just the coffee huh? Let me guess, the usual?”

“Actually… I think I might go with something different this time around.” Beau said as he walked closer to the counter.

“Something different… well if you still want to go with the bitter kind of taste, there’s the Americano, and some cold brew. Or if you’s like something a little sweeter I can make you a mocha, maybe a frappuccino or something like that.”

“I may go with something a little on the sweeter side.” He said and you hummed a little.

“I think we can go with a caramel macchiato.” You nodded and Beau chuckled.

“Whatever you think I’ll like.” He told you.

Beau watched as you started making the espresso and whatever else you needed to make the drink with some ridiculous name. Aren’t all coffees made the same anyway? He supposed that he wouldn’t know for sure. But he knew that he was glad that you were back.

From the corner of his eye, Beau saw Cadence standing in the corner with a certain sort of look on her face. She glanced at her sister that was busily making Beau a drink before she walked over to the sheriff.

“What are you waiting for? She went through something terrible and you were right there by her side through the trials.” Cadence told him in a whisper so you wouldn’t hear anything.

“What do you mean what am I waiting for?” Beau questioned and Cadence rolled her eyes before she reached over and flicked Beau on the forehead with her middle finger.

“Hey! What was that for?” Beau asked and rubbed his forehead.

“You know exactly what I mean, don’t play dumb.” Cadence said.

“I was an idiot for suggesting that she go and date Andre. And I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. But you know what else? I regret not encouraging her to go out with you more. She’s had feelings for you for such a long time but she’s never made a move because she doesn’t want to distract you from your work.”

Beau lifted a brow slightly. You actually had feelings for him? Then again, before you were taken, you did owe him a date since she rain-checked. Did he actually stand a chance with you?

“Are you sure that she wants to actually date someone right now after everything that’s happened?” Beau asked.

“Beau, she’s had her struggles long before Andre even came around. She just went on that date with Andre to try and move on before the date obviously went wrong.” Cadence said but when she looked over she saw that you were almost done making Beau’s beverage.

“Make a move, like ASAP! I want to be an aunt before I die and I want her to be with the right guy.” She said before she went to the back to go and prep something for the day before some other customers would end up coming in later.

Beau looked over at you and smiled a little to himself. There was a glimmer of hope burning in him and it made him wonder if Cadence was telling the truth about you having feelings for him. How long were they there?

“Hey, is something on your mind?”

Your question seemed to make Beau jump and you were a little worried. Was something wrong? Was there another case that he was stressing over? You wished that he could get even a little bit of a break.

You watched as Beau tucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and he looked as if he wanted to talk to you about something, “Actually, there was something I kind of wanted to ask you about.”

“Um… okay?” You said and handed him the drink.

“Do you remember when I missed movie night and you said that maybe I should make it up to you?” In truth, you almost didn’t remember with everything that happened but when you thought about it, you remembered.

“It’s been a while since that rain check, huh? Literally months and I think you’ve made up for it since then.” You chuckled a little but leaned over the counter, curious as to how this came to his mind.

“Yeah, I know it’s been several months… But maybe we could still go out and find something to do. I insist. So are you free tonight?” He asked you as he leaned over as well.

You bit your lip a little. The same feeling that you had when you wondered if the court case with Andre was over had returned, causing you to wonder if Beau was really asking if you were free or not.

“Um.. y-yeah. I should be free.” You answered.

A certain softness seemed to flicker in those beautiful, forest green eyes of his. It made you feel warm on the inside and you were almost certain that you could kiss him in that moment.

“Great. I’ll come and pick you up after work.” He insisted, you nodded in response before watching him stand up and leave.

As he walked out of the door, you smiled fondly to yourself. You never thought that you could feel this happy again. Granted you couldn’t just pretend that everything that transpired with Andre never happened, but it was easier to move past all of it because of Beau. Things were at least beginning to go back to normal other than the nightmares you had. He was always there to comfort you when you needed him .

“Okay, Y/N.. stop daydreaming and help me stock up some cups and lids and everything. If you want to get off early for your big date with the sheriff, I need a little help making sure everything’s in line while the owner’s away.” Your sister reminded you, causing your cheeks to turn pinkish.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re behind him saying something?”

“Hey, he was already going to do that anyway. He just needed a little push in the right direction. And Sheriff Arlen is a guy we can actually trust this time.”

Five o’clock finally came around which meant that it was time for you to get ready for Beau to pick you up.

You were in the back after you had taken your apron off and you placed it in your little locker. You were looking at the camera on your phone, trying to fix up your hair and freshen up a bit. Cadence was leaning against one of the tables in the back just smiling at you since there weren’t any customers at the moment.

“You know, I don’t think he’s going to be too worried about how your hair looks. He knows you’re a working woman.” She reminded you and you shrugged a little.

“I know.” You sighed, “It’s just that I don’t want to mess this up. After everything that’s happened, he still remembered about missing some movie night? We’ve had plenty of those over the past eight months after he got me back.”

“Sweetie, of course he was going to ask you if you wanted him to actually make up for it. You can be a bit naive when it comes to him, can’t you?” Your sister laughed, making you wonder what about this was so amusing but you didn’t really want to question it.

“I guess I’m just shocked for whatever reason.”

“Well don’t let it shock you. You like him, and he likes you enough to ask you out. So enjoy tonight and see where this goes. You know he’s not going to hurt you and these past several months have only proved that point. You deserve happiness and you deserve to have that happiness with someone that will stop at nothing to make sure you have it. And obviously Beau is that person.”

It surprised you how obvious Cadence made it sound, but you supposed she was right. Maybe you were overthinking about something here and you just needed to relax and enjoy whatever moments that you would have with Beau that night. You were sure Beau needed some time to relax as much as you did, so maybe this really would be good for the both of you.

“Anyway, I still want to look halfway decent instead of going on some kind of, whatever this is, in my uniform shirt.” You said but then you heard the sound of a locker door opening up. When you glanced over and saw Cadence going through her locker.

“You are so lucky that I’m prepared.” Cadence chuckled, “But you need to start packing some little outfits to wear incase this becomes a regular thing with the sheriff.” She smirked and wiggled her brows a bit.

You smiled and rolled your eyes a little but then your sister pulled out two shirts for you to pick from. When you did, she handed the shirt to you.

“Now don’t let him tear it up or anything. I like that shirt.” Cadence smirked and your entire face turned red as you clutched the shirt close to you.

“W-We aren’t gonna do anything like that on the first outing!”

“Oh for the love of- Y/N, it’s a date! Call it a date before I strangle you!”

“Okay, we won’t be doing stuff like that on the first date.” You insisted and the biggest smile appeared on your sister’s face when she heard you call it a date after all.

“Okay, okay. Now go change! He’ll be here any minute.” Cadence practically shoved you out of the back so you could change in the rest room and finish getting ready.

After a few minutes, you had now changed into a more comfortable shirt and it actually fit your figure quite well. You put on a denim jacket over it since that was what you wore to work with the uniform, and you pulled your hair into a side, French braid. You were glad your sister trained you to pack a little tube of mascara and some gloss for spontaneous moments like this. It was simple and you preferred simple anyway.

When you stepped out you saw that Beau was just coming into the cafe and you smiled when you saw him.

“Hey. You’re right on time.” You grinned and he looked over at you. He smiled warmly and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

“You look nice. I like that shirt on you.”

“Thanks.. it’s my sister’s.” You admitted and you looked over towards the back to wave goodbye to Cadence, and Beau did the same. She waved back at the two of you before Beau looked down at you.

“You ready to head out?”

“I think so.” You nodded and he offered an arm for you to take. Once you took it he escorted you out of the door and took you to the car.

It was still around the time where it would get darker a little earlier in the day, and Beau ended up taking you to some place for dinner. They had some tables outside and it was a pretty night so that’s where you sat. There were several square tables outside and there were some lights strung out on the patio. Then in one corner, evidently there was a local band playing too.

“You must’ve known they’d be playing when you brought me here.” You said and Beau placed one hand up in the air.

“No clue. Swear that this was a surprise for me too.” He insisted and he pulled out a chair for you so you could sit down. Then he sat across from you.

You gazed at him and saw that he was looking down at the menu. You took the time to observe and admire the way he looked and appreciate the small details. Like the way his freckles showed up a little better with this lighting, or the way his hair was falling in front of his face when he was looking down at the menu.

When a waitress came by you got distracted and you looked up when she was asking you and Beau what you’d like to drink. You just ordered a water while Beau ordered his favorite beer. Then she left to get the drinks for the both of you and that was when you looked over at Beau again, who you caught gazing at you too.

“Thank you… for taking me out tonight.” You said and he grinned.

“No need to thank me. It’s something that I wanted to do.” He said but then he rubbed the back if his neck a little, “Actually it’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while now.”

“Well…” You trailed off and decided to make kind of a bolder move and you placed a hand on his that was on the table, “I’m glad that you did.”

He maneuvered his hand to where he could hold your own and it felt like your hand fit perfectly in his.

“How did everything go today?” You asked him, trying to start some sort of conversation and he smiled a little.

“It was an easier day. Luckily we’ve not had anymore kidnapping cases. We had a few house calls but it was nothing too serious. Just nosey neighbors calling because a radio was too loud or a dog was barking and annoying them. Nothing overly serious.”

“Well… at least it was an easier day.”

“Yeah, although there were some case files that we haven’t had any leads on that ended up going cold. I hate they did.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair but you gave him an empathetic smile.

“Well, some cold cases don’t stay cold forever. Somewhere down the line people slip up and sometimes those cold cases get re-opened.” You reminded him.

“Yeah but that doesn’t happen often enough.”

“Cut yourself some slack. I know you hate when cases get cold, but there’s always hope.”

You could hear the little scoff he made and he looked down at the menu again but you gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “You taught me there’s always hope.”

He looked up at you again before you spoke again, “The FBI had been chasing after Andre and his group for a long time. And even if some of those members got caught, they didn’t serve time for long. They thought for sure that they could get away with me and get me out of the country and for a moment, every part of me thought they would be right.��

“But..?”

“But even when I was so close to giving up, I would think about you. How your determination would drive you and I knew somehow you’d find me, even if it would take a while. If you can persevere, then I knew I could too and I needed to figure out how to get out and think of what you would do in some of the situations I was in.” You told him.

Beau listened carefully to what you were saying and he was a little stunned. He had no idea he would be on your mind to help you fight back like that. You were a strong individual and he was so proud of you for taking that risk of screaming out on that phone call. He was proud when you somehow managed to get a phone and call him.

“You know… I think you may be a lot stronger than I am.” He admitted but he carefully intertwined your fingers.

“But you’re right. Those cold cases, I know, will be in the back of my mind and someone will slip up eventually like Andre’s group did.” He said but then he decided to move on.

“What about you? I’m sure your sister’s glad that you’ve been back. How’s your day been?”

“It was a little slow today. But it does get pretty slow on week days since a lot of people are working.” He heard you speak and he grinned a little.

“I suppose that’s fair.” He smiled.

“But I can’t complain. The downtime is nice. I’ve actually been thinking about changing up the interior of the cafe. So the downtime gives me some time to think about some of the interior designs.” You said with a smile, gosh your smile was so adorable to him.

“Well if you ever need any help when the time comes, you know you can always give me a call.” Beau insisted.

“I think I might keep that in mind.” You smirked, then the waitress came back with your drinks and she took both of your orders.

Beau ended up getting a burger and you got some sort of salad.

After a while of conversation and after the both of you had eaten your meals, Beau heard the band start to play some sort of slow song that he didn’t really know by heart, but he saw some couples going up there to dance

Then Beau had an idea and he stood up, which caused you to look up at him.

“What are you doing?” You asked him and he just grinned at you.

“Come on up there with me.” He said and you lifted a brow a little.

“You sure? I might step on your toes a bit.” You chuckled a little and he rolled his eyes playfully.

“Of course I’m sure.” He insisted and he took a hold of your hand and started leading you to the floor where some other people were dancing.

Then, Beau placed a hand on your hip and he could feel one of your hands on his shoulders while the two of you were close together. He lead you to the rhythm of the song that was playing as you danced and he swore this would be one of the moments with you that he would always have in his mind.

You looked so beautiful, with the way your hair framed your face perfectly or the way the lights seemed to shine in your eyes so beautifully. You were perfect in his eyes in every way and he didn’t think he’d be spending a moment like this with you. He supposed he needed to thank your sister for giving him that push.

He could feel your hand move from his shoulder to his cheek. Your touch felt so soft and he leaned into it before he ended up giving you a little twirl as you both danced, your laughter filled his ears when he pulled you back into him. Then he leaned down and kissed the top of your head softly.

“Why don’t we go back to my place? Tonight’s the perfect night to have a little fire or something.” He suggested and you nodded.

“I think that sounds perfect.”

After a while, you realized that the two of you had made it to Beau’s little camper and when he opened the door for you, Beau held out a hand to help you out of the vehicle. When you got out, the two of you went inside of the camper.

“Here, let me help you.” You insisted and you grabbed whatever he needed you to get but that was when the both of you heard some faint tapping on the window.

When the both of you looked out, you saw that it was starting to rain, but then you heard the thunder in the distance.

“I guess the fire pit might have to wait.” Beau said with a chuckle but then you smiled while you gazed at the raindrops, starting to get lost in your own thoughts.

“Y/N? You okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, just thinking about something.” You said and you felt his hand on the small of your back.

“Care to share?”

You carefully leaned into him, feeling his chest on your back, “I was just thinking about that night..."

"The night in the woods?"

"Mhmm," You hummed fondly, "It was raining and you carried me to the car because you realized I wasn't wearing any shoes. I swear I thought my toes were going to fall off because it was so cold." You laughed.

"I was just glad that we got you home." He said.

"I was so tempted to kiss you that night..." Then you swore you could feel his muscles tense a little, but they soon relaxed as you looked up at him.

"You wanted to kiss me that night?" he asked and your cheeks started to heat up a bit as you looked out of the window.

"I-I mean, um... maybe." You said bashfully.

"I guess looking back on it, it would have been some silly little movie moment and I know chick flick moments might not be your thing. Kissing in the rain or something like that is so juvenile..." You rambled on before you suddenly felt Beau take your hand and he started taking you outside.

"Beau? What are you doing?" You laughed.

"Something that I should have done a long time ago." You heard him say but then the two of you went outside and luckily the rain wasn't pouring too hard just yet.

When Beau stopped walking, he stood in front of you and you could feel his soft yet slightly calloused hand touch your cheek.

"Y/N... I've known for a long time now what my feelings were for you... And I should have done something about it long before now." He said and you placed one of your hands on his shoulder again.

"Why didn't you?"

"Because I let my job get in the way. Because I thought you wouldn't want to take a chance with me. And because of stupid reasons that don't really matter. But I know that the moment you went missing, I couldn't bare the thought of losing you. Then when the trials happened there was so much going on and I didn't want to complicate anything. So I wanted to wait until the court dates were over and when we knew for sure Andre would be gone for good."

"And what about now? Since all of it is over?" You asked in a slightly hushed tone.

"Now... there's nothing else for me to wait for." He said and he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Then both of his hands were on your face and he leaned down and kissed you.

The wave of adrenaline rushed through you but then you melted into his touch and closed your eyes. His kiss was so warm and sweet, enough to make you feel light headed as you kissed him back. You could feel the rain hitting you and it was cool in contrast to the closeness between you and Beau.

Your hand went from his shoulder to the back of his neck and he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. This was so worth the wait, and you couldn't dream of a better moment. You fell so hard for this man, and knowing that he felt the same way for you made you feel happier than you've been in such a long time.

When Beau pulled away, your foreheads were pressed against each other. He had taken your breath away and you were trying to remember how to form words.

"I love you, Y/N L/N..."

Those words, even if they came a bit sooner than you expected, were the very words you had wanted to tell him for the longest time.

"I love you too, Beau Arlen."

And from there, you knew that the two of you would spend a lifetime that you had always dreamed of having. You knew that this would be something that not even the best fairy tale could match, and the rest of your life would be spent with the man that meant the world to you.

Your heart was his, and his was yours, forever intertwined and maybe even entangled for eternity.

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this Beau x Reader fanfiction and it was such a joy to write! Thank you to all of you who commented, reblogged, and liked. It's truly appreciated.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @chriszgirl92 @nancymcl @fanfic-n-tabulous @globetrotter28

[jollyhunter]

WIP FOLDER - TAG GAME 📂

“The idea is that you share the file name of your WIPs, no matter how non-descriptive, and then tag as many people as you have WIPs. And if anyone thinks something sounds interesting, they can send me an ask about it!” @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth

Thank you for the tag, @ambiguous-avery !! My wips are a bit all over the place lately like my writing low lol

I literally collect everything in one single huge document lmao, don’t judge me. It works best for me because I don’t have to fear the empty page staring back at me. So I just slap a title on every new page whenever I type down some notes for a new idea and keep things organized this way XD

Can’t tag as many as I’ve got wips but let’s see what I’ve got hoarded… (no specific order)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Dean Winchester x Reader

• Infuriating - I love it. (The Bad Wolf & The Sweet Vixen)

• Dirty UNO - Reversed (sequel to “Dirty UNO”)

• Things are better if I stay

• Tombstone Letters

• Tell me about the Stars

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Beau Arlen / Dean Winchester x Reader

• The Broken Circle (sequel / series of the same titled original one shot, set after S15. I‘m still coping)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ Soldier Boy / The Boys x Reader

• Ground Zero (planned series for this intro)

I’d love to see y’alls wips but as always no pressure tags! 🫶

@bettystonewell @honeyryewhiskey @chevroletdean @zepskies

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

[apollogeesss]

A Scarecrow's tale.

Summary:

After hurting Wren and quickly becoming isolated by the people at Arkham, who she thought saw her as an equal, Ellen is faced with the possibility of losing her job, which terrifies her.

Filled with anger and fear, she is forced—and certainly persuaded—to accept the treatment of the devil himself in the flesh. And he says 'please me Eve.'

Content warnings: depictions of complex trauma, religious fanaticism, southern!Crane, depression, emotional abuse, institutional corruption, abuse of power in the academic and workplace, psychological manipulation, violence (physical and symbolic), gaslighting, power imbalances between characters, slow burn???, main character with addictions, and depictions of mental deterioration. Set in the universe of The Batman (Matt Reeves), without using Y/N, it's an oc! I'm bad at writing with a Y/N I just don't feel comfortable. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, SORRY 💔.

Notes: aaahhh. I was thinking a lot about Lucifer as good and evil, and also about my own upbringing in an area where people are obsessed with Christ. This chapter is very short, but I guess it serves as a closure to the first act.

Chapter Six—

Everything happened faster than she could process.

Wren was fine. That’s what they said. A minor injury, superficial—just a couple of stitches. No one mentioned the toxin. No one mentioned the fear. They only said “incident,” “instability,” “erratic behavior.”

But what hurt her wasn’t the medical report. It was the way they looked at her. As if she wasn’t a woman anymore, not even a colleague. As if she were contagion. A mistake. Something new to observe at the zoo.

The same kind of look they gave her in Arlen, when they buried her father in silence and her mother shut the curtains after the funeral. The look that says: we always knew something was wrong with you.

Just days ago, she had been the new girl. Quiet, diligent, maybe a bit dry, but people were kind if she approached them. One of them.

Now... she was something else. A venomous animal—no longer a victim. And this time, she was the aggressor. She had never meant to be. She had done everything in her power to keep them from seeing her that way again. She had been alone enough.

She stood frozen as they rushed to help Wren, who didn’t even dare look at her. For a fleeting second, Ellen could feel the cotton dress and the braids with ribbons in her hair again. She didn’t even have a voice; all she could do was stay still, suffocated by guilt.

They practically dragged her to Dr. Ellroy’s office. The whole way there, she wanted to say something, but she still felt dizzy. She wasn’t seeing things anymore, but the people around her still felt like apparitions. She was screaming in her mind that it wasn’t her fault, that she didn’t mean to, that they shouldn’t look at her like she was a stranger.

For Ellen, life had once again cornered her into a powerless place—one that filled her with fear.

They practically dragged her to the chief’s office—Dr. Ellroy.

The hallway lights felt colder, higher. As if someone had changed the voltage just to unsettle her. Ellen let herself be led with the broken obedience of someone already judged before even stepping inside. Her legs moved on their own, but her mind echoed with a question she didn’t dare say aloud:

Are they going to fire me?

A part of her—the younger one, the wounded one—almost wished they would. If they fired her, she wouldn’t have to face Wren. Or the others. Or her own reflection.

Ellroy’s secretary said nothing when she saw her arrive. She looked down, as if watching Ellen was a violation. Ellen blinked. Was it compassion? Or pity? No. She wouldn’t stand pity.

The door shut behind her with a clean click. The office was austere, sober. Lined books, dustless folders, framed diplomas. And in the center, Dr. Ellroy, standing—as if waiting for her sitting down would’ve been too soft.

“Miss Joy,” he said, without urgency. “Have a seat.”

Ellen obeyed. The leather creaked beneath her.

Ellroy didn’t look at her right away. He shuffled some papers. Or pretended to.

“I’ll be direct. This week’s incident is serious.”

The word made her sick.

“The nurse is no longer in danger,” he continued, formally. “But what happened requires administrative review. Legal too. There was either negligence… or unauthorized exposure. In any case, you were present. And until further notice, you are suspended from all clinical duties.”

Ellen lowered her head. She didn’t cry. Didn’t even blink. In her mind, only one thought: This isn’t fair. I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t me. Not like that.

“We’ll have to interview you, review your record, and of course… speak with Dr. Crane.”

The name hit her like a splinter. Dr. Crane. The man who knew. Who had seen something in her she didn’t even understand. The only one who might… defend her.

Or completely condemn her.

Ellen clutched her hands on her pants. They trembled. The silence of the office forced her to speak before she was ready.

“Dr. Ellroy…” she began, eyes still down. “What happened was an accident. None of it was intentional.”

He didn’t interrupt, but he showed no sign of compassion either.

“It wasn’t negligence. It wasn’t recklessness. I was… I was exhausted, yes, but I’m not a danger to anyone. Not to patients, not to my colleagues. Wren was hurt, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t because I did anything wrong on purpose. It was just a moment. Just one moment out of control.”

The word tasted bitter.

“I’ve worked nonstop since I arrived. I’m never late, I never complain, I never lose focus. I’m not unstable.”

Finally, her eyes met his.

“I’m not crazy.”

That statement weighed more for herself than for Ellroy.

“If you fire me, Doctor… I don’t…” she faltered, breathing hard. “I have nowhere else to go. I can’t go back to the streets. I can’t stay in Gotham without this job. You know how it is out there. You know.”

Ellroy’s pause was long. He held her gaze with administrative sternness—not cruelty, but not relief either.

“Are you trying to appeal to pity, Miss Joy?”

“I’m appealing to reason,” she said, firmer now. “And to the fact that this institution needs me as much as I need it. I didn’t crawl here from nothing just to be accused of something I didn’t do consciously. I’m not a monster.”

Ellroy closed the folder in front of him. Gave her no response, not a single word—which, to Ellen, meant it was time to go.

With heavy shoulders, she forced herself to leave the office, ignoring how she felt thrown to the harsh fauna that would eat her alive. As she dragged herself through Arkham’s hallways, she could feel the stares of coworkers who had once been kind—now only whispered as she passed.

Ellen had to slip out the back door, where staff usually smoked, to get some air.

The dumpster rattled under the sharp kick she gave it. The metallic sound echoed unnecessarily down the alley. Ellen lowered her leg, breathing heavily. Her knuckles were white with tension, and the air reeked of stale nicotine.

She didn’t cry. But her eyes burned.

“An external aggression response to a perceived threat of social or professional status loss,” said a voice, as if reading from a textbook. “Very common in subjects who developed hyper-adaptive identities in unstable environments.”

Jonathan stood by the back door. Hands in his coat pockets, with that unbearably calm—almost amused—demeanor. The shadows sharpened the angles of his face, more bone than flesh, like he’d been carved by resentment.

“What do you want?” Ellen snapped, not looking at him.

“Just observing. Your outburst was… visceral. Interesting.”

She turned to him abruptly.

“Interesting? Really?”

Jonathan tilted his head slightly. Almost a mocking bow.

“I heard you’re being suspended. That’s a shame. You were… promising.”

“And why the hell do you care?!” she yelled, her voice cracking from the strain. “You were there! You… you watch me all the time. You always do. Like you know something. Like you’re waiting for me to fail.”

Jonathan took a step forward. Slow. Not threatening—but deliberate.

“Maybe because you watch me too, Miss Joy. You think I haven’t noticed? Your eyes on me, every time I speak, every time I enter a room. Like you’re trying to figure something out that isn’t on paper. Why do you do that?”

“I don’t!”

“You lie worse when you’re upset,” he said, with a dry smile.

Ellen inhaled sharply, trembling.

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you. One day you’re kind, the next you act like you want me gone. I don’t know who you are, Crane. I don’t know what the hell you want from me.”

Jonathan stared at her for a moment, those sunken eyes glowing with something dark. Then he answered, voice low:

“Neither do I.”

And that was the worst part. It didn’t sound like a confession—more like a fact everyone else already knew. Something painfully clear, even though Ellen was blind to it. She didn’t know whether to cry or run.

“I must admit, I felt disrespected when you snooped in my office,” he said, resting one hand against the damp wall. “It was invasive. Did you think that because I looked at you and seemed interested, you had permission to act unpleasantly?”

“You’re the one who’s impossible to understand,” Ellen murmured, crossing her arms to protect herself. “You sprayed me with that horrible stuff… It’s your fault Wren got hurt.”

“No. That’s not my fault.”

“What?”

“It’s entirely your mind’s doing—the torments that cause your fear. Fear is the root of human action.”

Ellen stared at him in silence, unsure what to say—frozen, yet burning with rage. Everything around her was too much, and her silence only encouraged Jonathan to keep talking.

“Are you angry at me, Ellen? Or are you angry because now you know no one was ever really on your side? Not your colleagues, not even your friend… They all pretended to care, but they threw you away after the first mistake. Just like when your father died. Did you notice? Not even then did they understand you. They’re afraid of you.”

“Stop. You don’t know anything. You don’t know me.”

Elle’s voice dropped suddenly, her arms fell to her sides, and she stepped back with a visible unease on her face. She didn’t understand Jonathan—he was unreadable, and there’s nothing more terrifying than someone you can’t read.

“I do. I mentioned it before… But well, you were under the effects of my toxin,” he said, trailing off and shaking his head. “It was a bit selfish of me, don’t you think?”

Jonathan stepped down the remaining stairs and approached her, still keeping a safe distance not to touch her.

“I’m sure the one who doesn’t know anything is you,” he added. “But trust me, I know what rabbit hole you came out of. And I want to show you the light.”

Ellen shrugged and frowned—there was no human reason to trust him.

“Why should I believe you after everything you’ve done?”

“Well, do you have any other options?” Jonathan asked. “They hate you, Ellen. And I’m a responsible citizen.”

There was a subtle irony in Jonathan’s voice that made Ellen nauseous. She held her nerves by digging her nails into the palm of her closed hand.

“I don’t usually give many chances, but just because you’re my neighbor, as any good Evangelical Protestant would say… maybe it’s the right thing to do.”

Jonathan Crane’s words made her skin crawl, and for a moment, she remembered her mother’s stories while pitting peaches for pie—she’d speak of how the devil would take everything the farmers had, whether it was their crops, their livestock, or their wives. All to force them into surrendering their souls for a delicious life, for a chance to feel human even with a damned soul.

Her mother warned her not to be swayed by forbidden fruit—that its sweet taste and the touch of the serpent would only lead to an irreversible stench of death and despair, no matter how sympathetic someone offering you a chance might seem. Perhaps Ellen felt tempted the same way Eve had, because even if Satan stood on the edge of madness, his presence was hypnotic. That mystique reflected a deep humanity that made him dangerously attractive. He was unpredictable, different from everything she knew—a pomegranate that had already gone off but still held its seeds, an emotionally difficult being but also fascinating because he defied societal norms, unlike what his creator expected of him.

“What do you mean?” Ellen whispered, her chest burning—maybe with rage, maybe with despair.

The devil doesn’t appear as a seductive figure, but as someone who understands, who promises to see what others refuse to see. As if that evil came from the same place where you were born pure.

“I can make sure you keep working here—even under my supervision,” Jonathan whispered. “We can show them that…”

His words flowed like the stream behind her head—unsettling yet leaving no real alternatives. If she left Arkham, she’d be homeless and face the cruelty of poverty. If she tried to tell everyone it was all Jonathan Crane’s fault, she’d probably end up dead, and no one would do anything about it.

Ellen became once again that little girl talking to the family goats, hoping they’d answer—when he extended his hand to offer her a deal, and she took it.

She could feel the heat of his skin around hers, as though the same fear that seemed to obsess Dr. Crane now lived in her too. The two faces of the love's rage staring into one another.

[lightdancingwords]

Come Find Me - Part Seven

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 5,052

Tags/Warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, mentions domestic violence/intimate partner violence, mentions police work, a little bit of angst, communication problems, profanity

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Please see this post regarding future story posts.

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter Seven: Aftermath

In the weeks that followed, you went through the motions. You got up, went to work, had a quiet lunch with Doris, then went home. After Mark’s death, Beau decided it was safe for you to go back to the rental home. Though honestly, after everything, you knew you wanted to move. The sacred safety of your rental home had been violated. It would never be restored.

Your landlord was thankfully understanding. Even better, they had another property that they were willing to transfer the lease to, and cooperated in arranging the move.

You stayed busy. You finally took the self-defense classes with Jenny. You went to therapy. You did all the official meetings that a victim of a crime was required to do.

Just endless motion. You knew you were feeling the shock, the trauma. There were moments when the feelings came and you thought you’d never be able to stop crying. The memory of the gun, of seeing Mark killed in front of you, it was all so terrible.

What made it worse was that Beau had seemingly distanced himself. He did his job, took the reports, ensured you were safe in your home and then he… just… left. It hurt. Every time he looked at you, it was though you were a stranger.

For whatever reason, you didn’t tell Doris. Or ask her. You kept it to yourself. You didn’t even text him… and Beau never reached out to you.

When the first snow hit, it had been a Saturday. You saw the flurries come down through your kitchen window and found yourself longing for peace and solitude. For the snow to cover you so you could be pure and pristine again. Innocent. Without the taint of abuse. Without the stain of seeing a man killed in front of you.

The memory of that, the flashback, had you dropping dishes in the sink. The sound of the gunshot. The sight of Mark’s head exploding—

You collapsed into yourself and sank to the floor, hands sopping wet. You hated this. You hated the tears that came. You couldn’t decide if you were relieved he was dead or grief-stricken. Or both.

The sobs that caught at your throat were the worse. You’d struggle to breathe and remember the feel of his hand at your throat. God. The bruises were healing, but the memories were forever.

Your new therapist was absolutely understanding. They heard you out, provided a huge box of tissue, and never judged you for your conflicting emotions.

The only advice they could give you was the most profound: “You have to understand, Y/N, it’s not my place nor anyone’s place to tell you what you’re feeling is right or wrong. They’re your feelings. You have to be absolutely free to feel them all. It’s going to take time for you to decide what you feel about it all. And whatever you feel is yours and yours alone.”

While that helped with the mess with Mark, you still didn’t know what to do about Beau. His sudden withdrawal hurt. You missed the way he called you “darlin’”. You missed his accent. You missed his scent. You missed him.

As you sat there on your kitchen floor, the tears finally stopping, it occurred to you that instead of just waiting for Beau to come to you… maybe you should go to him. Because by God, you were never going to know unless you did something.

You stood up, dusted off your behind, and decided to do something for once in your life. You grabbed your car keys and headed out to Beau’s trailer.

Just as you arrived to the trailer, Beau came out, puzzled. “Y/N?”

That he didn’t use the endearment hurt. “I want to know why,” you said, closing the driver’s door as you got out of your car.

His head pulled back, confused. His breath wafted in the air. “Why what?”

“Why have you been avoiding me? Ever since Mark… you haven’t looked at me. You haven’t talked to me. My God, Beau, you… you’re like a stranger now.”

“I haven’t—”

“Bullshit,” you snapped heatedly, storming up to him. “It’s been weeks, Beau, and you keep acting like I’m some stranger!”

Beau’s jaw clenched and let out a huff of air through his nose. “I thought… to give you some space.”

“A few days makes sense, but weeks?! I felt like a goddamned pariah, Beau!” You hated how your voice cracked, but the pain was too obvious now. He still couldn’t look at you….

“Well, hell, I just—” He cut himself off, raking his fingers through his hair. “I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

“What?” You breathed the one worded question with absolute disbelief.

“I killed a man, Y/N.” The flurries dusted his hair, like diamonds on a beach. “I don’t regret it one bit, not since it meant I saved you. But you saw it… and that changes people.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Did… did you think I wouldn’t be able to look at you after that?”

He nodded, swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

“Oh my God, Beau…” You felt tears well up in your eyes, emotions thickening your voice. “You’re the one I’d always want to see. W-when I look at you, I don’t see Mark. I see you.”

”Darlin’—”

“Say that again.” Your heart soared at hearing that endearment. It meant everything to you to hear it just now and you so desperately wanted him to say it again.

He finally looked at you, really looked at you. “Darlin’,” he repeated, this time slower, more meaningful.

“You have no idea how much I miss hearing you say that,” you said, and quickly wiped away a tear with a shaky hand.

Much to your surprise, he closed the distance between you. Gently, he laid his hands on your shoulders. “It’s been killin’ me for weeks to not be able to say it,” he confessed in a soft voice.

“Were you really pulling away because you thought I wouldn’t be able to look at you?” you asked, amazed by that thought.

“Yeah,” he murmured, brushing a snow flurry out of your hair. “I didn’t want to make it worse for ya, darlin’. After all… I failed ya.”

“You what?” Startled, you framed his face with your hands. “Beau, you did not fail me. You saved me. You… God, you rescued me. Mark had every intention of killing me and you stopped him. All I had were some scrapes and bruises. I’m alive because of you.”

Beau met and held your gaze. His eyes were so inscrutable, so dark in that moment. You had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. Only that he stood there in silence, your hands cupping his face.

“You’re too good to me, darlin’,” he said at last. “I’m not sure I can look at it that way.”

“How do you look at it?”

Very slowly, he ran his hands up your arms, never once pulling out of your gentle touch. “I couldn’t find him before he kidnapped ya. I can’t find your missin’ photos. And I couldn’t stop him from taking you away.”

“And you found me,” you said insistently. “You followed me and saved me. You didn’t fail me, Beau.”

“Darlin’, I—”

“No, let me finish. Please.” Beau fell silent and you continued. “The whole time he had me, I kept praying for you to find me. To save my life. And by God, you did, like a—a cowboy in shining hat.”

He quirked a smile at the description.

“You found me, Beau. I would never avoid you. H-how can I?” In that moment, you decided to take the giant step you’d been waiting for. “I’m… I have feelings for you. If I avoid you, I’ll never know what they’ll turn out to be.”

His gaze flickered up to you, surprise flitting across his face. Then his expression softened and an intensity grew in his green-eyed gaze. Tenderly, he covered your hands on his face and squeezed them.

“Darlin’… God. I’m rock headed and mule stubborn. Ya don’t wanna be with me.”

You quirked a smile as he used a similar description that Carla—via Emily—had used to describe him. “I don’t know about that… I kind of like being around you.”

His smile flashed to life and you felt your heart swell as the warmth bloomed in his gaze. “I feel like I should be askin’ ya on a date.”

Playfully, you lifted your brows at him and said, “I’m waiting.”

He grinned, squeezed your hands and brought them down off his face down to be held between the two of you. “How does dinner sound? We do it right—proper restaurant, music, the whole nine yards.”

“That’s how you ask a woman on a date, Beau? God, no wonder you’ve been single this long,” you said, teasing.

He laughed. “Nah, darlin’… just needed the right woman.”

Your heart skipped a beat, then took off racing when he continued.

“I think I found her,” he added, reaching up to caress your cheek. “Let me take you out to dinner, Y/N.”

“I’d love to,” you breathed, your voice stolen away by this man, this Texan.

“Good. Meet you tonight? Say 6 o’clock?”

You nodded. “D-do I meet you there?” Your voice shook with your pulse. He had set it off running and you didn’t think it would ever settle again.

He pulled a pained expression. “Christ, darlin’, are you trying to make me look bad?”

You had to laugh. “What? Why? What’d I do?”

“You insulted me,” he said dramatically, clutching at his chest. “A proper gentleman picks his date up from her home and brings her back.”

You knew you shouldn’t, but God, bantering like this with Beau brightened your heart. “Oh. A proper gentleman? Do you see one around here? I mean…”

“Oh, now ya’ve done it,” he said with a laugh and scooped you into his arms. You yelped clutching onto him, his move unexpected.

“What are you doing?” you demanded, breathless with laughter and surprise.

He bounced you in his arms and it was all you could do to hold on. “Showin’ ya I’m a gentleman.”

“By carting me around in your arms?” You looked at Beau and couldn’t stop smiling. To be this close to him after weeks of so little with him…. To have that whiff of earth and musk and whatever it was that made him him. To hear his voice. To just be with him.

“Yep.” He grinned at you, his eyes sparkling. He began doing a stroll around his yard with you in his arms, carried princess style.

“That’s your idea of being a gentleman?” The laughter bubbled up in your throat. He was being impossible. Hilariously, adorably impossible.

“Yep.”

“You going to say anything besides ‘yep’?” you asked playfully.

“Yep.”

You laughed again, your arm around his neck. You needed this. God, you really did. Something so absurd, so ridiculous and playful. You hadn’t realized you said it out loud when Beau slanted a look at you, the humor fading from his expression.

“God, darlin’, I’m s—”

“So help me, Beau, you apologize, and I’ll find a way to take you over my knee and spank you,” you said, surprised at the vehemence you felt and heard in your voice.

He stopped and stared at you, clearly taken aback by the way you responded. Then, slowly, he quirked a grin and said, “You promise?”

You tried to maintain a stern expression. You really did. The way he grinned at you made a giggle bubble up your throat and you gave in, laughing once more. “You’re impossible, you know that? God,” you said with a breathy sigh. “I’m really glad I came to Big Sky.”

“Me too, darlin’,” he said as he finally set you back down on your feet. “My life might’ve been more borin’, but my heart would’ve been empty.”

Your breath caught and your heart skipped a beat. In the weeks you’d come to Big Sky and met Beau Arlen, you were constantly doubting yourself, wondered if you imagined the chemistry between the two of you. That Beau plainly and clearly stated that his life would’ve been empty without you…. “Oh damn it, that was perfect,” you managed, your heart swelling with emotion.

He half-smiled. “It’d been years since my last perfect line. I figured I was due.”

You chuckled, breathy and tinged with tears. “That was a good one.”

“Good enough to make ya cry,” he murmured, gently tilting your chin up. He studied your face in wonder. “I didn’t mean to make ya cry, darlin’.”

“It’s not you,” you assured him, sniffling. “I’d never—”

“You never had a man talk to you before like that, huh?” His interruption was gentle, thoughtful. You couldn’t help the tear that fell down your cheek. He saw it and tenderly brushed his thumb over your cheek, wiping it away.

“No,” you admitted. That particular knowledge stung. You hated that your romantic history was rife with issues, with bad men. Oh, they said the pretty words, but the moment they had you in their romantic trap, that all went away. You had the impression Beau meant every word and would never change that.

“I promise ya, darlin’,” he said softly, “I’m gonna keep doin’ it until you beg me to stop.”

“Let’s get the date first before you start making sweet promises,” you said with a slow smile.

“We could count this as a date?” he suggested, and there was something in his tone that had you thinking he meant it all as a joke, a playful tease.

“No!” You laughed and he grinned, confirming your suspicion. “You promised the whole nine yards, Beau Arlen. I expect it all.”

He checked his watch and his brows lifted. “Given the hour, darlin’, I’d say you best get goin’ so you can dress up.”

Your own brows raised as well. “Dress up?”

“Yep.” He smiled, a touch smug. “I intend to go all fancy, darlin’.”

Beau.

In a tux.

In that moment, it was all you could do not to swoon then and there. God, did that man know what kind of an effect he had on you?

“Then I expect you at my house at 6 sharp, Mr. Arlen,” you said, your smile and tone flirtatious.

“That’s a promise, darlin’.”

—

The sight of Beau Arlen in a tux was one you’d never forget. He was tall—absurdly, Doris’s statement that he was bony came to mind and nearly wrecked your composure—and the tuxedo was definitely one specially made as it did everything to emphasize his lean stature. He was strikingly handsome, as usual, but this time, he had his hair combed back and styled. His beard—oh my God, he actually neatened up his beard.

The double-take Beau did of you reassured you that, despite the last minute attempt to find something remotely suitable for a fancy restaurant, you succeeded. You went classic—Little Black Dress, with a thin white cardigan and a lovely little clutch.

“I’d ask if you’d be cold in that little coat of yours, darlin’, but I’m feelin’ a bit hot under the collar myself,” he drawled.

You chuckled, did a little spin in the entryway of your rental house. “I pass, then? Especially given your very last-minute date.”

“Oh, you definitely pass,” he said with an appreciative look. You felt his gaze scan over you, and your body warmed under such intense scrutiny. “And it wasn’t last minute.”

“Excuse me? You asked me out just a few hours ago!”

He smiled. “I made the reservation a week after the first time you slept over.”

You felt your heart stutter and you froze momentarily. “You… Beau, that was weeks ago. How could you have known I’d say yes?”

Gently, he took your hand in his, intertwined your fingers. “I took a chance, darlin’. I’m kickin’ myself for waitin’ this long, and I apologize for that, but the look of you that mornin’….” Absurdly, you remembered the way he slanted a look at you. “You were beautiful. All sleep-mussed, the sun lighting you up.”

“Beau…” You breathed his name like a benediction. He drew closer, close enough for you to get whiff of his cologne, subtle and sweet.

“I’m sorry I waited ‘til you came over and told me what for, darlin’.” His green eyes met yours and your heart somersaulted. “If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d like to wine and dine you as I always wanted to.”

“When you put it that way, Mr. Arlen,” you said with a slow, sweet smile, “how can I say ‘no’?”

“Good. Let me get you in the truck before ya freeze to death.” As he escorted and assisted you into the truck, he paused and blatantly looked over your legs. “By the way… darlin’? You got some damned killer legs.”

You laughed, your cheeks heating up. “Beau!”

—

He took you to Big Sky’s sole fine dining, a delicious Italian restaurant amusingly called Ciao Bella. You stared at the name of the restaurant and turned a baffled look on Beau. He grinned in amusement. “Don’t ask, darlin’. You work at The Big Guy. You really wanna judge?”

You laughed and conceded he had a point.

Beau definitely did everything he could to make the experience a beautiful one. He escorted you to the table, held out the chair for you. He asked the waiter for a recommendation for the entree, one that you ended up picking, and went all out in ensuring the white wine paired with it was to your liking. Once the server received the orders and left, his focus on you had you feeling as though you were dining at home, not in an exquisite restaurant.

“How do you do that?” you asked, amazed.

“Do what, darlin’?”

“Make me feel like I’m the only one here. The only one who has your attention.”

“Because you do and you are,” he said, leaning forward to take your hand in his.

“Another perfect line. You’re on a roll, Arlen,” you teased, softening at the way his thumb caressed the back of your hand.

“Yeah? Two in a day? Damn. I’d say I should buy a lottery ticket after this…” He brought your hand up to his lips and lightly kissed your knuckles. “But I already won.”

Your breath caught at the sweet gesture. “That’s three,” you said in a low, soft voice.

He winked. “I know.”

“You weren’t kidding about wining and dining me, Mr. Arlen,” you mused, amazed at your luck. What had started as a difficult day was ending on such a glorious note, you never wanted it to end. Who knew finding your voice at last would lead to a date with Beau at Big Sky’s fanciest restaurant?

“I’m only just gettin’ started.”

Your smile was warm, a touch playful. “You’re setting a high bar for future dates.”

“You think it’ll happen?”

“What? A second date?” He nodded and you pretended to think about it, long enough for him to do a warning of “Darlin’”. “Yes. A second date. Quite possibly earned a third with this wine. It’s delicious. How on earth did you ever learn about wine?”

“Don’t look so shocked, darlin’,” he said in amusement. “I know stuff.”

“Says the man who said ‘stuff’ in the most exaggerated Texan drawl I’ve ever heard,” you said, your voice bubbling with laughter.

He grinned. “I get what you mean, darlin’. For me, the best date would be a beer around my campfire.”

You paused, then asked carefully, “The night I came over… was that—”

“A date?” You nodded, not minding the interruption. He swirled the white wine in his glass, thoughtful. “I wanted it to be.”

“Beau…”

“The only reason it wasn’t, darlin’, was because you needed a friend that night more than you needed a boyfriend,” he said gently.

“What if I wanted it to be?” He lifted his brows questioningly. “What if… I want that to be our first date? And this… our second?”

He smiled slowly. “I’d say I’m a damned lucky man to get two dates with you.”

“You keep swearing,” you teased.

“Don’t tell Emily.”

You laughed, low and soft. His grin widened. You loved that you could go back to old conversations, bring them forward in beautiful reminders. Much like the threat to spank one another, though God, you never knew such a joke would become regular thing between the two of you.

The entree, spinach and ricotta gnudi with tomato-butter sauce, was so delicious, rich in flavor. You ended up letting Beau have a few forkfuls while you stole some of his braised chicken all'arrabbiata, which turned out to be spicier than you expected.

“Beau, this was delicious,” you said as you dabbed your lips.

“You’ve got to stop sounding so surprised, darlin’,” he said with a laugh, leaning back in his seat. “I know I sound like some redneck hick, but I’m a learned man. You keep this up, I’m gonna start gettin’ offended.”

“It’s not your accent,” you said with a defensive laugh.

“Then what?” He leaned forward, caught your gaze and held it. “What is it about me that keeps surprisin’ you?”

You were quiet for a moment. “Because I haven’t had anything this nice in years,” you finally admitted in a low voice.

He gave a start. He’d forgotten. You could tell, by the way he reacted. Beau had forgotten, and you weren’t sure if you should be relieved or worried. Relieved, because you didn’t want to be handled with kid gloves. Worried, because he also had to remember that certain topics, certain discussions, could be potentially upsetting.

“Do you mind, darlin’, if I ask?” he ventured carefully.

You knew what he wanted to ask and shook your head. “Go ahead.”

“When was the last time M—your ex took you somewhere nicer than an Olive Garden?”

You thought on that for a long moment as you took a sip of the white wine. It really was a delicious choice. You found yourself itching to find out what kind of white wine it was… and how much it cost. Then you realized you were distracting yourself from the unpleasant memory and changed mental course.

“My birthday,” you finally answered. “It was my first birthday while we were dating, and he—” you decided you weren’t going to use your ex-boyfriend’s name— “decided to take me to this rather nice French restaurant. He butchered every pronunciation in the book, but claimed he was just trying to impress me.”

“How long was that?”

You frowned in thought. “Five… maybe six years ago?”

His brows drew together. “Darlin’… I’m not a rich man—”

“I never asked—”

He shook his head and continued despite your attempt to defend yourself. “I’m not a rich man,” he said firmly, “but if I were, darlin’, I’d take you here every night. Hell, every day if I could.”

You sat on that for a moment, and couldn’t suss out what he truly meant behind that. “I’m not sure how I should take that.”

“Then I’ll be honest. It’s real crappy your ex didn’t spoil you. You deserve to be spoiled. You deserve all the good things in the world.”

You quirked a brow at him. “Do you think I’m that… greedy? O-or a gold digger?”

“What? Oh shit. No, darlin’.” He rubbed his forehead. “God. See? Three perfect lines and there goes my damned luck.”

You managed a faint smile, though you were still well and thoroughly confused by what Beau was trying to say.

“I’m not sayin’ you’re a gold digger, darlin’. I’m just sayin’…” He took a breath, and you could almost see him reorganize his thoughts. “I’m sayin’ you should’ve been treated better. I know I made it sound like you should get fancy restaurants and expensive wine. I only meant… you deserved better. Kind gestures should be a part of the norm, not nice surprises.”

You tilted your head as you weighed everything you knew of Beau against one horribly made declaration. Beau seemed to know he went off on an awful take, one that slandered your character, and was trying hard to make amends.

“‘Kind gestures should be a part of the norm, not nice surprises’. I think you got your fourth perfect line,” you said at last with a gentle smile.

“I was sweatin’ bullets there, darlin’,” he said with a huff. “Am I soaked? I feel like I should be soaked.”

You couldn’t help it, you laughed. Beau smiled and reached over to take your hand in his. “I wasn’t tryin’ to imply you’re a gold digger, darlin’,” he added. “Just that… I may not be a rich man in the bank, but by God, you make me feel wealthy.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.”

“Yeah? You think it makes number five?”

“You’re definitely on a roll there, Beau,” you said with a warm smile.

“Don’t tempt me, darlin’,” he said, his voice taking on a husky tinge. You felt a thrill down your spine, and sensed he meant more than just perfect lines.

“How do you mean?” You decided to press, wanting to know what he was thinking.

He glanced down at your joined hands on the table, at the gentle way he kept rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. “Darlin’… there’s a part of me that really wants to take you to my home and have my way with you.”

Your heart stopped, then thudded painfully against your chest. You couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or out of desire, out of hearing him voice that wish of his.

“And that’s the reason why I won’t,” he said with a nod to you. “That look that just passed over your eyes.”

“Beau, I—I—”

“Don’t, darlin’. I ain’t offended. You’re not ready. I can wait.”

You sat there for a long, quiet moment as you took all that in. How rare a man was he that he’d wait until you were ready for him to take you to bed? Especially one who saved your life, one who knew a portion of the darkness you’d been through?

“It’s…”

“Darlin’, you don’t have to explain.”

“I feel I need to. Because part of it is such a stupid, vain reason.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. You had suspicion he knew exactly what you were going to say and was mildly offended already. Before you could continue, he spoke up. “Do you know what goes into a file, darlin’? It’s not just written complaints, documentation of calls and meetings. When it comes to acts of violence, we need to see photographs. Sometimes videos. Audio recordings.”

You froze, your breath hitching. You actually heard a small simmering of anger in his voice, and almost cringed in your seat. You definitely offended him and instantly regretted your statement of vanity. God, why did you have to be so stupid?

His gaze searched your face and he shook his head. “I ain’t mad at you, darlin’,” he said, and you wondered if he read your mind. “I’m mad at him. He got ya to think that I’d care you have a scar. That I’d want you to have some model perfect body to be worthy of me.”

“So you…” He said photographs. Dimly, you recalled your stay at the hospital, how they had some officers come over and ask to take photographs of your lower abdomen for evidence. You’d forgotten. “Oh my God. So you know.”

“Not everythin’, darlin’, but that one, yeah, I do.”

“A-and you don’t… it doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it, darlin’?” He seemed honestly puzzled. “It’s a scar. It’s a badge of honor for ya. You survived that sick son of a bitch, and not only that, ya fought back.”

“Do… do you have any scars?”

He flashed a grin at you, designed to soften the intense moment. “I’d be glad to show it to you sometime.”

Absurdly, you blushed as you laughed. “If it’s on your rear—”

“Nope.” He smirked and winked at you. “Wrong side.”

“Beau!”

The night was winding down when he escorted you back home, to your front door. Sometime during the dinner, the snow came back in force. Beau’s truck thankfully handled it and he was able to pull up as close as he could to the front door.

“So much for dancin’,” he said ruefully.

“Where did you have in mind?” you asked as he walked you the last few steps.

“Right here. Maybe some nice oldie playin’ on the radio.”

You smiled. “That sounds very romantic. I expect you to follow through when it’s springtime, Mr. Arlen.”

“Since when did ya start and keep callin’ me that anyway?” he asked, lightly brushing back a strand of your hair.

“I was kind of copying Pride and Prejudice,” you said, lightly teasing him.

He smiled. “Am I Mr. Darcy then?”

“I’d say ‘yes’, but there’s one small problem.”

“What’s that?” He drew closer to you, so close you could feel his breath dance over your lips.

“They don’t kiss in Pride and Prejudice,” you murmured, your gaze flickering from his green eyes to his lips.

“Guess we’ll rewrite the book,” he whispered, and brought his lips to yours, capturing you in a sweet, tender kiss. He lingered in the embrace, slipping his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. You let out a soft sigh, and he deepened it, a slow heat that spread throughout your body. You no longer felt the snow, the chill. All you felt was him.

When he slowly broke the kiss, you felt dazed. He brushed back your hair again, his gaze deep and dark. “Have a good night, darlin’,” he whispered.

“You too, Beau.”

He waited until you were safe inside before he headed back to his truck. When he pulled away, you realized that, yes, this was definitely not going to be the only date you ever have with him.

Tag List: @spxideyver @deadlymistletoe @bitchykittenconnoisseur @aarpfashionvictim

[adrian-sheppy]

EMBEDS aren't working . fics be upon yuo.

Freecrime (romantic or platonic) fic:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62622802

Title: when you just tryna drink n bro starts crying

Summary: Eddie called Freemind a sad drunk.

Words: 755

Buttermind fic for muffin day (yesterday) but also featuring arlen and gordons funny beef and everyone judging barneys taste in men:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63264298

Title: national muffin day

Summary: It's National Muffin Day, which might as well be National Barmey Day… so Freemind buys Barmey some muffins.

Words: 2272

[nothoughtsgarf]

May 31, 1981 (from the May 1981 page)

I would like to formally apologize to @bebe-benzenheimer for lying before. It turns out that the random pink cat actually was Arlene. I judged a book by its cover, or more accurately, judged a cat by her noticeable whisker pads. I'm very sorry

[hillofthehank]

King of the Crossover #1

Source: youtube

The Simpsons Season 9, Episode 7: "Bart Star"

Sprinfield's Pee Wee Football team plays against Arlen with Hank, Peggy, Bobby, and Luanne in the stands! Hank is voiced by Mike Judge as he is in King of the Hill and it should be noted that the designs of the King of the Hill characters are not simponsized and appear as they do in their own show.