#helena scribbles

[anininas]

Leon and Helena doodles but give them formal wear

[gbirrd]

A piece Ive made for the @batfam-big-bang is for this fic by @megaerakles inspired by The Odyssey! Obviously, the soundtrack whilst drawing was EPIC. Would you expect anything else, really?

Image ID:

An image reminescent of a book cover. Transluscent white shattered glass-like cracks stem from a jagged 'hole' slightly left of the center, through which Bruce Wayne's eye is visible in a vibrant blue. The cracks radiate out into 8 sections, each with a different character, which together make up one face. From left going clockwise, the characters are Dick Grayson, with deep eyebags, Jason Todd, with prominent scarring, Tim Drake, Steph Brown, a siren Cass Cain, Duke Thomas, Helena Wayne, and Damian Wayne-Al Ghul wearing a laurel crown. The image is done in a painterly style similar to goache.

[feartoxinjelloshot]

the one and only birds of preyyyy

[vpvrtment]

"im,, kinda nervous,,," "dude, today's gonna be bitchin'!"

[myokk]

Okay, question for you- is Eloise’s hair tied at the end and curly, or in a ponytail and curly, or is there no tie and I’m just blind?

I was going to answer this quickly but I am EXTRA & had to do a write-up of her hair (sorry🙏)

First, she normally does wear her hair in a braid!💓 I do NOT know how to draw braids nor do I want to learn, so I do my weird way that looks terrible and I really should spend like 30 min researching😔🙏

When I remember, I like to add the bow but I forget a lot🥲

Her hair is CRAZY and thick, and has been the bane of her existence her whole life. I’m just channeling her inner Black (she is like a great-aunt or something of Sirius and Bellatrix) so OBVIOUSLY i had to give her amazing hair.

Since she is a Proper Young Victorian Lady™️ who spent the last 5 years at a muggle finishing school, she NEVER wears her hair down, and felt scandalized the first weeks at Hogwarts, seeing girls her age wearing TROUSERS😨 and having their hair DOWN😳 and although she’s used to it now, she still feels uncomfortable thinking of herself doing it.

Sebastian daydreams about it all the time though😇🙏

Some quick doodles I sketched up for this así.

1) her crazy hair when it’s down💓🫶

2) Imelda LOVES doing Eloise’s hair. She’s never really had girl friends before, and the ritual of gossiping/doing hair/hanging out reminds Imelda of her childhood bc her mom used to do her hair and tell stories🥹🥹 and Eloise has NEVER had friends before OR the experience with her own (awful) mother so she LOVES IT TOO💓💓💓 (Imelda teaches her Spanish some nights)

[candywafercutie]

Helena/Babs is a fun idea. I might read a fuck ton of comics just to see if this clicks for me

[vigilskeep]

i think trying to figure out the dynamic i’d want for my hawke and inquisitor is going really well you guys

[acatpiestuff]

Roommate asked me to make a garcello portrait for our flat

[deathtodickens]

[missnight0wl]

The Cursed Trio and their gingerbread houses

Patricia:

Helena:

Jacob:

I’d actually like to draw this concept, but I’m not sure if I’ll have time and motivation before Christmas, so here’s at least this version!

[kalolasfantasyworld]

I'm genuinely speechless 😱 This is so beautiful!!! Thank you so much!

I honestly didn't expect you to draw them both! And they look so AMAZING! I'm such a fan of your style 😍 And yes Nozel came out amazing. You did both of them justice 💕

HBEFVEUFWEJHFVEW (I just have to scream a bit more!)

Hi there!

I saw your little request event.

I just wanted to say that I follow you on twitter and I'm a big fan of your art and Ezra.

For the request I was wondering if you could draw my OC Helena

but if not than maybe just an art of Nozel?

Thank you!

oh thank you ! ! i hope i did nozel justice ive only drawn him twice in the past ahaha and your oc is very cute :3c

[anininas]

If Resident Evil 6 had only 10 fans I'm one of them

[mr-asa-jones]

I am in my Study here at Saint Helena High School for Wayward Girls and am very busy. Another naughty girl is scribbling away writing her lines.

Oh, she has finished.

I look at them briefly, screw them up and pop them in the bin.

"Right! Gym slip up please, it is a dozen of the plimsoll on your knickers young lady!"

Mr. Jones. (Headmaster)

[dwonfilm]

Old habits die hard. | Beau Arlen x Reader

Summary: after Beau’s divorce he and [Y/N] were involved, but he realized it wasn’t fair for many reasons and things ended in a mess, but his past comes back to bite when [Y/N] shows up in Montana as a kidnapping victim and the perpetrators are tied to the cartel that killed his old partner.

This will be a multi-part story, set after season three of Big Sky.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, being stuck in a confined space, (if you’re ever reading one of my stories and there’s something you think should’ve been included in the warnings—comment or message me!)

Mentions: Jenny Hoyt, Cassie Dewell, Carla, Felicity [L/N]

Part I:

It was dark. That much she knew from the second she opened her eyes and the scenery didn’t seem to change. Now there was a headache ringing in her head, feeling like a jackhammer against the back of her skull. Blinking furiously to attempt to force her eyes to adjust faster, they’d just started to when there was a loud clunk. It sounded like.. a car door maybe? Slowly her eyes adjusted to the darkness that wrapped around her like a cold blanket. Unfortunately there wasn’t much to see—despite the clearer vision, wherever she was hadn’t offered any clues. Now she attempted to move, which is when another unfortunate realization set in: her hands were behind her back. Held together somehow, it felt like duct tape. What the hell was going on..? All of a sudden her theory about the car door was confirmed, the engine of whatever vehicle she was in roared to life and they pulled out of wherever they’d stopped. Desperately she tried to rack her brain, trying to remember what led up to this moment. This only resulted in irritation towards herself as she couldn’t remember.. maybe she was drugged? Who the hell would wanna do something like that?

Helena, Montana.

Beau was seated at his desk, the door to his office ajar. All he was doing, which is what he’d been doing all morning, was catching up on paperwork. It had been a quiet morning around the Sheriff’s Department, so he begrudgingly decided to catch up with the paperwork he’d been very behind on. Once the afternoon rolled around, he’d managed to get about half of it done. That’s when his phone buzzed, the noise louder because it was lying atop his desk. Garnering Beau’s attention, he laid the pen down for a moment and picked up the device. Slowly reading the preview, he was confused and so he put in his passcode and opened the messages app. Clicking the new text, now the full thing could be seen.

Hi, I don’t know if you even have the same number. It’s been.. a long time. Anyway. I didn’t know who else to reach out to but something is desperately wrong. Beau, this is Felicity—[Y/N]’s sister. She’s missing.

Beau felt his heart start to race in his chest. It was a name he’d seen many times over, but he hadn’t seen her in person for about two and a half years. Quickly he typed a response, his mind racing a mile a minute.

Hi, Felicity. This is Beau I still have the same number. What do you mean she’s missing? How long?

He didn’t know whether or not she’d reply quickly and so he picked the pen back up and tried to focus on the report he’d been writing up before opening that text. Scribbling out a sentence or two before his mind drifted back to the woman he’d tried his best to not call or text for so long.

Two and a half years prior.

“You know darlin’ you don’t have to do all this—I’m alright really.” Beau speaks, looking at the woman who was cleaning up the kitchen area of his tiny apartment. She smiled, her [Y/H/C] hair tied in a messy bun so it wouldn’t get in her way. Right now she was scrubbing the countertops that looked like they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “If I don’t, no one else will.” She replied, without looking back at him. He’d shake his head before taking a step towards the kitchen but he’d be met with her [Y/E/C] eyes narrowed at him. “Didn’t I tell you to stay outta my way, cowboy?” She asked, pointing her finger directly towards him. Both of his hands were throw up in mock innocence. “Maybe I just wanted to give you a kiss huh? It’s not everyday a man’s got a pretty lady all dressed down and yet still lookin’-“ he’d paused his own sentence to whistle lowly. “-so fine.” [Y/N] playfully rolled her eyes before walking over to where the man stood. “You’re not distracting me. I’m getting this done today, so, I don’t know—go out. Get some lunch or somethin’ or y’know.. go for a walk.” She replied, lifting her head to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Immediately after, she turned and went back to the sponge and the cleaner that was on the counter. Gripping the bottle and spraying a bit of the liquid-turning-foam onto the surface of the countertop and beginning to scrub. Beau stood there for a minute dumbfounded, why such a beautiful woman would stand here and clean for someone so.. messy, in every sense of the word. It confused him. It also made him sad, because he knew what it was leading to and what would soon become of this.. situationship. “Arlen stop starin’ at my ass before I start slapping you with the broom. Out!” She said over her shoulder, to which he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m goin’ sweetheart. I’m goin’!” He walked down the hallway towards the bedroom, needing to get dressed before heading out.

Flashback over.

Two more buzzing sounds broke him from the memory, sighing at how life had played out. It was Felicity again. Quickly his eyes looked over the two texts she’d sent to him, his heart sinking.

Oh thank god. I know.. I know things ended kinda badly with you two but the cops here don’t seem to be doing much. She’s been gone for three days and they don’t seem to think it’s anything serious.

Beau her place was trashed. It looked like.. it looked like she tried to fight whoever took her and I’m terrified of what’s happening to my little sister. Clearly you still care.. I know you moved states but if you could call them.. push them into taking this seriously. I don’t want to find my sister as a corpse.

Beau sighed heavily, the last sentence of that text bringing an entire flurry of emotions swirling down on him. It was true, things didn’t end the best between them but that didn’t mean he stopped caring. Actually he’d been checking in on her via the internet for a while. Every three to four months, after the initial six months of ‘separating’ or whatever you’d wanna call it. Suddenly with this reality thrown at him, the gravity of all that went wrong hit him like a ton of bricks. Picking up his cell phone he typed a quick reply, because truthfully.. he wasn’t sure what he could do.

Alright. I’ll make some calls and I’ll try to get back to you later. If it isn’t later I’ll text tomorrow okay? I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know what I’m gonna be able to do—but I’m gonna try.

Arlen locked his phone and placed it back onto his desk. Dragging his palm over his face, he’d felt added tension onto his shoulders. He’d been so deep inside his own head that he didn’t hear Jenny knock. Seeing the look on his face, she stepped in and closed the door—the noise finally making him look up again. “Jenny, hey.” He spoke, trying to play things off but you’d think he’d learn that things weren’t that easy with Jenny Hoyt. “Cut the shit, Arlen. I know you better than that so spare me the cat and mouse game. What’s wrong?” She gazed at him with a stoic expression, crossing her arms and waiting for him to talk. “Jenny, no-“ he tried to speak but she cut him off immediately. “If you tell me nothing I’m gonna shove my boot so far up your ass you’ll taste the dirt from the farm I was just on.” Nothing about her demeanor changed. Sighing, the sheriff knew he’d been beat. “I just got a couple texts from.. someone I haven’t heard from in a while.” He began, hoping she wouldn’t pry but again, he should’ve known better than that. “An ex? Former convict? What is it Beau? You’ve got that pensive look on your face and I know that means something is seriously wrong.” She read him like a book and so he finally just gave in. “An ex’s sister, uh.. she was my first anything after Carla and the divorce. Man, I was fallin’ hard but I knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to try and build something when I also still wanted to fix things with Carla. It wasn’t fair to string her feelings along when I was so off the deep end. Being drunk almost every hour of every day. I was a wreck and yet she never judged me. I was difficult but so was she, just in a better way.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair from frustration. “So what happened? Why’d the sister text you?” She asked, leaning against his desk on the side and giving him time to collect his thoughts. “Apparently.. she’s missin’. Three days and the cops ain’t takin’ her sister seriously. She uh.. she said [Y/N]’s place was trashed like she was in a.. fight.” Beau explained, the look of worry extremely evident on his face. “Okay, so the sister wants you to look into it? I mean, I sympathize but if she’s in Texas.. there isn’t much you can do from here.” Jenny voiced the same thing he’d told Felicity in the texts. “I know. I’m gonna.. make a few calls to some old friends. See what information they can give me.” He replied, head hung lowly. “Well.. you know if you need help, Cassie and I, we’ve got your back. We’ll help however we can.” She offered, which he always knew but it was nice to have the reminder. “Thanks. I’ll.. uh, I’ll get back to you on it. Alright?”

Unknown location.

Slowly her eyes opened again, making it clear she’d either fallen asleep or passed out—the distinction impossible to make. Everything around her was still dark—absolutely nothing had changed, the vehicle’s engine still roaring as they moved down what she assumed was the interstate. They seemed to be moving faster than when she’d been awake or conscious last. Where the hell was she being taken? Once more, that ringing and pain in her head came. Testing the waters [Y/N] attempted to move her legs, but found that they too were bound—likely with duct tape just like her arms. It was clear that she was locked in a trunk, being driven somewhere by.. someone. Maybe multiple people. Blinking harshly she was trying to remember what happened, remember how she ended up here. Closing her eyes to try and think back to something, anything other than waking up at random intervals in complete darkness. Over and over she held her eyelids closed, tightly, trying to force herself to remember. Each and every attempt was unsuccessful and this was eating at her—she was growing more and more frustrated with herself. Why couldn’t she just remember? Suddenly the car went over a bump and she did her best to avoid hitting her head on the top part of the trunk. She had no idea how long she’d been in here and maybe what was worse—no idea how long she would be in here. Now she began thinking of her sister. Surely Felicity knew she was gone. [Y/N] had woken up in this total darkness probably three or four times in total, but she had no idea how long she was out each time she slept or lost consciousness. Again she held her eyelids tightly closed, hoping that she could somehow trigger any kind of memory. Silently pleading with herself to think, to remember. Suddenly, only in flashes, she began seeing images of herself inside her apartment. Cooking? It was.. lunch? No. It was.. dammit [Y/N] think. It was breakfast! She’d just gotten up, she didn’t work that day. She tried to envision the date, but it was just a blurry spot in her head. Next image that flashed was her looking outside through the glass of her sliding door. What was she looking at? Despite trying to look out the door, all that she saw was a blur. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t focus on whatever was outside that day. Shifting her attention back to herself, trying to focus on the expression upon her own face. It was unreadable. It wasn’t any kind of joy though, that she knew. Why was she looking outside? As she tried to focus more, everything behind began fading. She was passing out again. Fuck.

Back in Helena.

Beau had somehow made himself focus on finishing up the rest of the paperwork. It took longer than normal, his mind often drifting to either the situation in those text messages or just [Y/N] in general. After the last file was closed he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air before pushing it back out again. There was so many thoughts swirling inside of his head. Why wouldn’t the cops be taking a disappearance seriously? Especially if her place was trashed. Who would want to take [Y/N]? Had she gotten tied up with some tough crowd? Maybe a boyfriend? Just that thought alone made him uncomfortable. Why did he feel so uncomfortable thinking about her with someone else? It wasn’t exactly a foreign feeling. He’d seen a couple photos of her and a guy on his periodic check-in about a year ago? They were never photos that she posted herself, which he thought was weird. Sighing he picked his phone up from the desk, again putting the passcode in and opening up Facebook first. He’d rarely used any of these sites and that was probably the reason she’d never taken him off of her friends list. Thumb tapped the search bar before both moved across the keyboard to type her name: [Y/N] [L/N]. Clicking and being taken right to your profile. Despite the more serious reasoning as to why he was looking her up, he couldn’t help but to click on the image used for your profile. Beau couldn’t help but smile at the photo when the image was enlarged. He’d taken this photo in his old apartment. He’d been lying down after mixing alcohol, which of course made him sick. Once [Y/N] had arrived at his place, she was immediately in the bed with him. She had sat against his headboard and made him lay between her legs, but he’d chosen to lay sideways with his back on her thigh and her opposing leg over his waist—he didn’t want to be laying in a way where he couldn’t see her face. After a while she figured he’d fallen asleep and so she turned to look out the window. It was sunrise because he’d called her in the middle of the night. It wasn’t the first time, not the last either. There was just.. something about the way she looked in the fresh bits of sunlight and so he took a picture. It was art then, damn sure was now too. Again Jenny had walked in but it was clear he was lost in a memory.

Eventually she needed to break the moment, so she spoke lowly. “Beau..” he looked up at his friend and quickly wiped the tears he didn’t even know had formed from his eyes. “Hey again. You got something?” He asked after clearing his throat. Jenny simply shook her head before closing the door much like she had earlier. Beau’s cloudy green hues looked back down to his phone and this prompted Jenny to come and lean against the side of his desk yet again. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” She inquired, gesturing towards his phone with her head. Again Beau sighed, handing his phone to the blonde. His palm running down his face again while her gaze moved toward the screen, [Y/N]’s picture still up. “This her?” She asked and she didn’t need to specify. “Yup, that’s her.” His response was dry, not because he was annoyed with Jenny but because he was frustrated with a whole lot. So many feelings had been stirred up with those texts earlier and now that he didn’t have something taking up half of his focus.. all he could do was spiral. “You call anyone yet, see what’s going on?” Jenny asked, handing him back his phone. “Not yet. I was just about to look at her page to answer a question I had but.. got stuck.” His voice was quiet. It was hard for Beau to open up about some things and that wasn’t new information to his friends. When telling stories to Jenny, Cassie or others on occasion he’d just say “a lady I was seein’ then” because saying her name was hard. “Something’s bugging you about this.. what’s on your mind?” Jenny knew him well, but Beau wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say right now. “Too many things are buggin’ me Jenny.” He stated plainly, perhaps a little sharply. “Sorry that was harsh. I just.. I’ve been burying these feelings for so long, not wanting to deal with ‘em and now they’re gnawing at me.” Jenny nodded and placed her hand onto Beau’s shoulder. “Well.. just remember you aren’t alone.” She squeezed his shoulder for emphasis before slowly standing upright again. “I’m going to see Cassie, talk over this case she’s dealing with but if you need us.. just text or call.” Jenny offered the lifeline again and Beau simply nodded. She left his office and went on her way as Beau again sighed. Minimizing the photo, his attention moved back to her profile. Scrolling back to where he’d left off the last time.

There was no sign of the guy he’d seen about a year ago, he hadn’t seen him the last time he looked either but she never posted him anyway. It was always a friend. Slowly he scrolled up, trying to see if anything seemed out of place. Beau’s swiping stopped at the last post she’d written which was five days ago. Eyes scanning the status and brows furrowing with worry. Slowly he read it aloud. “Exhausting week, work’s been crazy. I’ve been seeing that red car following me again but the cops say I’m just being paranoid. Who knows, maybe I am? I don’t know anymore. I also don’t know why I’m including this in my FB post. Anyway hope everyone is having a better day than me.” Beau knew the exact reason she included it. He’d always told her if something really felt off, document it somewhere, somehow. “What is going on with you darlin’? Where are you?” He spoke out loud, taking a quick screenshot of the post.

Unknown location.

[Y/N] felt her body jolt forward which caused her to wake up again. It was a harsh jolt and she heard the engine running but they weren’t moving. Something unexpected had caused the vehicle to come to a stop. She could hear muffled talking. It was.. it was difficult to focus again. All she could figure out was that the voices were male. At least two, but maybe three? Hearing any of the words that were being said was impossible. Both because they were muffled by the trunk and because that ringing in her ears was back. [Y/N]’s face contorted in pain, trying to just ride it out and hope it wouldn’t last for long. Maybe a minute or so went by and it finally subsided. Now the voices were yelling and all of a sudden there was a loud POP���was that a gunshot?

Author’s Note: Hello! Sorry this took so long, I needed to just get my head on correctly. I’m gonna add my tag list here, but since this is a Beau fic and not Dean, if you don’t want to be tagged in this series just comment or message and let me know! I hope you guys like it and I’m excited for my first Beau series. 🩷

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @stillhere197 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @aylacavebear @just-levyy ✤ ٠ —– • ·

[carpenterswife]

ALL MY GHOSTS (i)

series masterlist

- summary: Your life in Helena is good; a thriving friendship with Beau, Jenny and Cassie. You’re living your best life, with a job you enjoy and you’re good at, surrounded by people who care for you. Of course, however, your past is only just around the corner, in the form of a recurring phone call.

- word count: 2883

- warnings: Alcoholism.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

You weren’t ever truly sure why, out of everywhere you could have chosen to go, you ended up in Helena. There was nothing that had been calling you to the town — you’d just had a blown-out tire on a dark, muddy road nearby and the only tow company still open at 11pm was in town. That was two years ago, and you’d yet to leave.

It had, slowly, become your home.

With the help of Jenny and Cassie, you’d turned a cheap, shabby apartment into a cozy home; decorated with far too many plants, and enough cats that any sane person would question your mental state (three; Cassie was already questioning you). Something about Helena was calm and welcoming, and it felt like you’d been here forever.

A year after your arrival, came Beau Arlen. A Texan cowboy who rolled into town in a shitty Jeep called ‘Pedro’. The news of Tubb leaving sent shockwaves through the community, and a second round hit when his replacement turned up only weeks later. Though questionable at first, Beau had, very quickly, proven himself to both the town and the department.

Beau was a great cop and an even greater man — one you’d clicked with rather quickly. After you’d slammed a pile of paperwork onto his desk with an innocent smile, knocking your fist on the top of the papers and calling it a ‘welcome gift’ on his first day, Beau had decided he’d liked you. He didn’t like the paperwork, but he liked the bubbly, sweet energy you brought into his office with that mischievous twinkle in your eyes and quiet giggle.

You were a ray of sunshine — that’s what they liked to call you around the station, anyway. Beau claimed it was because you always lit up the room, but you liked to tell him he was just a sappy old bastard (he didn’t like that). Despite your distaste to the nickname of ‘sunshine’, it had been picked up pretty quickly, and you definitely had Beau to blame for it.

Your payback?

Well, it came in the form of a lovely challenge you’d issued against him, after you binge watched Brooklyn 99 for the 100th time.

Beau hated it.

In fact, right now, he was seething. “You’re cruel.” He watched you scrub out your number ‘15’, and replace it with a ‘16’. His arms were tightly crossed, eyes narrowing into a glare that was mostly playful. He leant back against a desk in the bullpen, cowboy hat discarded beside him.

“What’s that, Arlen? I can’t hear you over the sounds of my impending victory.” Came your tease, stepping back to admire your victory. You yelped when something hit your head, and you turned to see a pen at your feet, and Beau wearing a smug grin. “Asshole.” With a dramatic flair, you turned your back to him.

Beau loved your playful attitude. It made the days where he was stuck in the station with paperwork far more fun. You were always down for some teasing, and were always able to dish it back just as well as he could dish it out. You were always bordering on the line of insubordination, but he knew as well as you did that he’d never actually punish you for it — there was definitely favouritism in this station, with you, Pop and Jenny hogging the top three spots on the sheriff’s list.

On the whiteboard in the bullpen, was your bragging rights. Scribbled on the top in your handwriting were the bold words ‘BAD GUYS CAUGHT’. Underneath were your two names, and two separate scores, ‘Arlen: 9 L/N: 16’.

Yeah, you were kicking his ass.

“You got lucky.” Beau stepped up to your side, glaring at the numbers on the whiteboard with disdain. Lucky? He was lying to himself and the asshole knew it. He was just a major sore loser.

An amused smile lifted up your lips, and you turned your head to look up at him. God, you still hadn’t gotten fully used to how tall this man truly was. “Seven lucky arrests?” Beau pressed his lips together and nodded, unwilling to accept any other answer. You snickered at him. “Admit it, Beau, you just suck.”

Beau sent you a sharp look, but there was amusement dancing in the green. “Shut it, you.” He gave a fake stumble when you gently pushed his arm, chucking lowly. “You got lucky with those last two arrests. The guys practically threw themselves at ya.”

You gave a dramatic gasp and clutched your chest like you were gravely wounded. “Are you saying I’m only good at my job ‘cause I’m pretty?” Beau gave you a deadpan look, and you snickered. “Alright, grandpa.”

With a heavy sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why the hell do I even put up with you?” He muttered to himself, shaking his head. You merely grinned and ignored his muttering, as the sheriff continued to complain about you and your insubordinate behaviour (that he still allowed).

You tossed the whiteboard marker from hand to hand, turning your full attention to him. “How’s that murder case getting along, by the way?”

“Slowly.” Beau dropped his hand down to his side, and stuck them both into his pockets. “Snail’s pace.” You wince sympathetically, and Beau sighed heavily. He gazed at you for a moment, evidently thinking. “You wanna take a shot at it? Fresh eye, an’ all.” He offered, looking down at you with his head tilted to the side.

Looking up at him, you smiled and nodded. “Saturday?” You suggested. “I’ve got lunch plans with Jenny and Cassie in an hour, and I’m not working tomorrow.”

His brows shot up. “You girls goin’ out without me?” He faked offence, barely concealing his smile.

You laughed, patting his arm. “Girl’s day, sheriff.” You teased, earning a playful indignant huff from Beau. You chucked the marker at him, and watched him fumble to catch it. “I’m off in ten. You gonna survive without me?”

“Hilarious.” He drawled sarcastically. “Get outta here.” He grunted.

With a laugh, you turned and left the bullpen, Beau spinning the marker between his fingers as he watched you go.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

It was quite a common occurrence to get lunch with Jenny and Cassie. You mostly spent the time catching up, filling each other in on cases, or gossiping about some strange news around town. Honestly, it was typically the highlight of your week.

You’d become extremely close with the two girls over the last two years.

They’d dragged you to a new restaurant — despite your hatred of trying new places. The price was on the higher side, and your face had pulled together at the sight of a hefty price beside a plate of lasagna.

After the plates had been cleaned, and despite your insistence to pay, Jenny had snagged up the bill from you and Cassie, paying the whole thing. You hadn’t been very pleased, nor had Cassie, but the blonde had laughed it off and told the pair of you you’d be paying next time.

Taking a sip of her second glass of Pepsi, Cassie glanced between you and Jenny. “So, how’s it been at the station?” She asked curiously, nursing her glass. You and Jenny exchanged a look and shrugged, acting casual.

But you knew what Cassie meant; Beau’s position.

He’d moved up here to follow his ex-wife and daughter — Carla and Emily, who, during the last year, you’d met plenty of times. Especially Emily, who’d temporarily taken up an internship with Cassie and Denise. However, after the rough scenario with Avery and that whole mess of a case, Carla had decided to return to Texas, taking Emily with her.

Beau hadn’t told anyone if he’d be leaving or not. After all, his position was only temporary, so it was expected that he’d eventually leave one day. No one really knew if he was intending to stay longer, or leave now and follow after Carla and Emily to Houston.

“He hasn’t said anything.” You took the silence as an opportunity to answer. You spun your glass of Coke, fiddling with the rim of it. “I saw him going to the Chief’s office on Monday.” You looked between the pair.

Jenny nodded in agreement. “He had a meeting. Didn’t tell me what for.” Her gaze swayed back to Cassie, who was listening carefully. “You think he’s gonna go for it?”

“Follow Carla?” Cassie hesitated. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

You downed the rest of your Coke in a few large gulps. “Can we not talk about Beau the entire day?” You complained, sitting down your glass. Both women looked at you. “C’mon, enough with the boy talk.” There was quiet shared laughter between the three of you.

“Alright.” Cassie agreed, nodding shortly. “Who’s up drinks tonight?”

Your hand shot up immediately.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

Drinks, like every time, turned out a horrible idea.

You woke up on Friday morning with a throbbing ache in your skull, and heavy sickness settled in your stomach. You groaned and rolled yourself out of bed, caught up in your blanket, almost falling flat on your face.

Way to make Friday even worse.

You already hated Fridays. It was always like a ritual for you. You woke up with dread in your bones, and dragged yourself around the house until your cats’ incessant meowing snapped you from your half-dead safe.

Beau didn’t make you work Fridays anymore. Not after what you liked to call ‘The Incident’.

Something about Fridays weighed heavy on you. You felt like a ticking time bomb, ready to implode. You’d blown up at Beau, real bad, and stormed off. Then proceeded to have a panic attack on a case regarding a domestic abuse incident.

Beau had dragged you into his office, hands cradling your cheeks as he talked you through your panic attack. You still hadn’t apologised for yelling at him, but he didn’t once bring it up. He asked what was wrong. You told him you didn’t like Fridays. He told you not to worry, and you hadn’t worked a Friday since. He hadn’t even asked why, he’d just done it.

And now you had Fridays alone to rot in your sorrow and misery.

The ringing of the phone didn’t make you flinch, not like it used to months ago. With a heavy sigh, you grabbed your phone, and wandered out to sit on the small balcony, away from your cats and their pawing. “Mom.” You leant your elbows on the railing, and stared out at your view of neighbourhoods and distant mountains.

Your mother’s voice made your stomach churn. “Hi, dear.” You rose your eyes and stared up at the sky. That pet name made you want to pop your eardrums. “How are you doing?”

“Fine, mom.” You tapped your nails on the railing, anxiety doubling your heart rate. You could feel it pounding in your hands and head, adrenaline pumping so hard you felt the need to run. “Same as I was last week. Busy with work.” You cleared your throat before she could get another word in. “What is it, mom?”

Your eyes shot down to the scars littering your hands. Those which your friends believed came from years of clumsiness and working with guns and knives. A lie. A smart lie — but a lie nevertheless. They always seemed to burn when you remembered home.

If you could call it home.

“We all miss you, dear.” You hummed in response to her words, not interested or paying much attention. “Jack—“

That snapped you back to reality. “Don’t.”

Your mother sighed. There was a hint of frustration in her voice now. She always did this. “If you’d just answer—“

“No.” You interrupted again. Your grip on your phone tightened, until your knuckles turned white. “Stop, mom.” Your teeth ground together. The name sent chills down your spine. “I told you, stop with that bullshit. You know I won’t pick up any of his calls, so stop asking.”

“If you’d let him explain—“

“There’s no explaining.” You argued, anger rising deep in your stomach. “Whatever excuse he’s come up with is bullshit. And I cannot believe you’re siding with that fucker after what he did.” She went to speak, you scoffed, reaching your boiling point. “Don’t call me again.” You pulled your phone away from your ear and hung up, with a low groan.

Hands scrubbed over your face, trying to control your temper.

You hadn’t been close to your mother in two years. When you left your hometown, she’d become nothing more than a name on a phone to you.

You stared at the deep scars on your hands, and shook yourself off. With one last glance at the scenery, you headed inside, greeted by three clingy cats and burnt bacon on your frying pain.

You threw out the bacon and unhappily ate a bowl of cereal instead, three cats sitting at your feet. You stared out the window, and resigned yourself to another night of getting wasted.

━━━━━━ ✿ ━━━━━━

Shot after shot poured down your throat, the burning sensation making you grimace and shudder. It felt good, in a sort of self-destruction kind of way. You slammed down your sixth shot glass, and stared blankly at the empty chair in front of you.

And then it wasn’t empty.

“You might wan’ slow down, honey.” Your eyes flicked up, meeting Beau’s. He waved off the bartender returning with more shots for you, and turned back to you. “I’ve been watchin’ you drink those like water. You wan’ tell me what’s got you downin’ vodka like there’s no tomorrow?”

“My mother.” You huffed. Beau hummed and nodded. He didn’t know much about your past, much like you didn’t know much about his. What he did know, is that your relationship with your family was strained. Extremely.

Beau reached out and pulled away your empty shot glasses, leaving them on his side of the table. “You wan’ talk ‘bout it?”

“Not really.”

His brows rose, but he accepted the answer. He wouldn’t push. He knew what it was like to not want to reminisce on bad memories. “You start at eight tomorrow. You sure you wan’ get piss off drunk?”

His rationality made you scowl. Beau chuckled quietly at your expression, knowing he’d already won this argument.

“C’mon, honey.” He spun himself off his chair and stood. “Let’s get ya home.” He reached out to help you stand — a bit too quick.

You recoiled. A flinch. Away from him.

He pulled his hand away like he’d been burnt. You suddenly felt very sober. You stared at each other, neither willing to be the first to speak.

Beau’s mind replayed the flinch, over and over. The quick flash of fear in your eyes. The way you’d curled into yourself, moving abruptly away from him. He suddenly felt sick. He didn’t dare reach out to you again. It felt like he’d been struck by lightening.

Your heart hammered in your chest, breath hitching at the confusion and pain on his face. Frantically, your brain raced for an excuse. “You scared me.” You forced a weak laugh.

He didn’t believe you. Of course he didn’t. It was a shit lie, and you knew it. His eyes scanned your expression; the wariness in your gaze. the sudden tension in your muscles. And, he didn’t push. “Sorry.” He chuckled. “Didn’t mean ta.” He slowly offered his hand out again, moving in a way that ensured you didn’t flinch.

You physically relaxed. It made Beau’s heart twist uncomfortably, his concern growing. You accepted his hand, and he helped pull you to unstable feet.

“You’re gon’ be so hungover tomorrow, girl.” His hands on your upper arms, he threw down some cash on the bar, and then guided you out of the crowded bar. He chuckled, half-amused and half-concerned, keeping you stable as he walked you over to his Jeep.

Before he could open the passenger seat door, you turned to him. “Answer me this.” You leant back against the door, effectively trapping him. “Are you leaving?”

He looked taken aback. “What on Earth are you goin’ on about?”

“Carla.” You watched his expression turn into one of heavy confusion. Annoyed, you sighed. “She left, Beau. Are you going after her? You moved here for her. So, are you gonna leave for her?”

“Oh, Jesus.” He muttered, running a hand down his face. “Is that what you ladies have been gossipin’ about?”

You didn’t answer him, you just stared at him for a few beats. “You had a meeting with the Chief on Monday. What was it about?”

He put his hands on your shoulders, ducking his head to meet your eye level. “I’m not going anywhere.” He spoke quietly, reassuring you with a warm smile. “You lot are stuck with me.” He nudged your chin with his index finger and then gently pulled you aside. “C’mon, let’s get you home, hm?” He pulled open the door of the passenger side seat.

You stared at him. “Promise?” You began to climb into the car. “You won’t go anywhere?”

Beau chuckled, shrugging this line of questioning off as odd drunken behaviour. “Promise.” He patted your knee as you sat down. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

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an: chapter one is shorter than the other chapters will be, as it’s mostly an introduction to your relationship with the other characters + the first mystery of your past.

if you catch any mistakes, always feel free to let me know!! sometimes i miss them + i always love improving my work :)

[julesthequirky]

Theirs: Chapter One

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You've just moved back to Helena after getting fired from your previous job. Desperate for cash you become a dancer at a strip club. Strong-willed and independent, you've never needed a man, that is until you meet the handsome Sheriff of Helena. Gentle and considerate, he melts your heart in a way no Alpha could. Then there's Dean (not Winchester). Rough-around-the-edges, with tattoos covering him from head to toe, and a heated stare that makes your heart race. But an Omega can only have one Alpha, right? That's what you've been taught. Only neither one will concede to the other, and you find yourself unable to choose.

Characters: You, OC Lou, mystery man.

Chapter warnings: Adult language, transgender OC (though, I don't truthfully see her as transgender anymore as she's fully transitioned).

W/C: 1, 609

A/N: I haven't abandoned The Choice, so don't worry! :) I'm going to try and post alternating chapters.

You sat on the lumpy couch, surrounded by boxes scribbled with ‘kitchen’ or ‘bedroom’ on. You didn’t have the energy just yet to start unpacking. With your head in your hands, you assessed how you came to be here, in your aunt’s trailer, back in Helena, with no job and your bank account quickly dwindling.

It was simple. You’d fucked up. Punched your boss in the nose, and oh, God, it had sprayed like a fountain, but in your defence, he’d said one too many derogatory things about Omegas behind your back, and you’d had enough.

With your finances in dire straits, you could no longer afford the blockers that kept your heat away. If you didn’t figure things out pretty quickly, you’d be going through Hell soon.

You surveyed the boxes scattered around the living area. This was your life. If you’d held your anger…Hell, even counted to ten, or even a hundred…then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t be in this situation… However, feeling sorry for yourself was gonna get you nowhere. You knew that. But you couldn’t help it.

Your phone buzzed beside you. You sighed and picked it up. It was an old-school friend you hadn’t spoken to in years. You tapped on the DM, instantly opening up the app.

Lou: Heard y’all were back in town. We should meet up, grab a drink, and catch up! XXX

The image in the profile portrayed a woman with long brown hair and bright blue eyes that you definitely recognised. She sure looked familiar. And as you wracked your brains, it came to you. She used to be a he.

No way. You smiled, remembering how Lou was in school. You’d catch them staring off into space, watching girls go about their activities as you both sat on the bleachers. You thought that maybe Lou fancied them. Guess not. Just going through some things and trying to understand who they were, just like you and everyone else. And maybe she did fancy girls as well. You weren’t gonna judge.

By the looks of it, Lou still went by Lou, as her profile name indicated. You fired back a message telling her you’d be delighted to. It would be good to catch up with an old friend. You wondered where she was in life. Hopefully in a better place than you were.

That’s exactly what you did. You dug into your suitcase, found a shimmery little number and donned your favourite cowboy boots for comfort.

*

You returned to your old stomping ground, The Silver Dollar. It was old as dirt, with old wood built into a classic saloon style. And it was packed. Bodies heaved as you pushed your way through, looking for Lou, memorising the image from her social media account.

A mix of scents accosted your nose. Beta colognes and perfumes that made your nose itch, earthy Alpha scents and the occasional sweeter scent of an Omega.

Heads turned as you made your way through to the bar, whereupon Lou sat on a stool, drinking a beer.

She looked amazing. Barely recognisable from her old self, but you guessed that was the whole point. She had a great figure, jeans that hugged her in all the right places and a low-cut top to show off her ample cleavage. Fuck. You were jealous and found you were quickly developing a girl crush.

Lou slid off her seat and enveloped you in a hug. You wrapped your arms around her, giving her a meaningful hug. It felt good to be here. Maybe getting fired wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

When she pulled back, she whistled.

“Look at you. You look so grown up.”

You laughed. Grown-up was right.

“What about you. You’re the one that’s changed much more than me.”

Lou grinned from ear to ear. And your heart almost burst with happiness for her. She nodded, grabbed her beer and took a sip.

“High school was a struggle. I didn’t show it cause it was a me thing. I thought I just fancied girls, but I somehow knew it was more than that. I didn’t wanna just be with a girl. I wanted to be one.”

Lou had been one of your best friends in school, and you regretted not keeping in touch with her. Life moved quickly in those years, and before you knew it, ten years had passed.

“Well, I’m really sorry I didn’t keep in touch. I should’ve.”

Lou waved a hand dismissively.

“Naw, I was Hell to be around when I was transitioning. Who knew oestrogen was a bitch. Felt like I was experiencing puberty all over again.”

You laughed and nodded. Being a woman certainly came with its hormonal challenges.

“Anyway, look at you. Gunna catch everyone’s eye in that.”

You looked down at the silver sequined dress. You were a damn glitterball. You blushed, suddenly bashful of the attention.

She grabbed the bartender’s attention and waved him over.

“What’s your poison?”

“Jim Bean and coke.”

She slammed her hand on the bartop.

“And that’s what you’ll have. Barkeep! Make my stunning friend her drink of choice!”

You laughed, cheeks hurting from laughing so much. It felt good to let loose. And Lou certainly was mesmerising.

Lou insisted on paying for your first drink. No matter how much you protested, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The first whiskey and coke went down way too easily. As did the second. And the third.

You drank to forget your problems. And to have a good time.

Lou rested her hand on your shoulder.

“I know a troubled soul when I see one. What’s up?”

You shrugged.

“Jus’ ev’rythin’.”

You turned, giving her your attention.

“It’s dumb. But the reason why I came back is cause I got fired. I haven’t found a job yet, and I’m kinda panicking.”

A look of concern crossed her face, and the hand on your shoulder squeezed gently.

“It’s a shitty situation. But you’re back home. You got your family, and you got me. What about your Alpha?”

You snorted.

“Ain’t got one of them.”

“Well…take your pick. We got an abundance of ‘em in Helena. An’ for no damn reason…” She trailed off and raised her beer bottle to her lips again.

“If I don’t find a job real soon, a bunch of them might be hammering down my door when I go into heat.”

“If it’s a job you want, I got an idea. You might not like it. Just how desperate are you?”

“I’d do anything. Hell, I’m at the point where I might just go and stand on the damn street corner. That’s how desperate I am.”

She hmmed. She twisted her body to reach for something in her bag. It was a pen and a jotter. She scribbled something down and passed the sticky note to you. It was a number.

“Just remember, I told you you might not like it, but seeing as you’re desperate. It’s easy money. Great money, in fact. I worked there for a little while, too, so I can put in a good word.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Thanks. You didn’t have to, y’know.”

“Just…wear that dress, and you’ll be right in.”

“Lou…” You said in a warning tone.

You didn’t understand why you’d have to wear a silver dress to a job interview. And you knew she was withholding information.

She sighed.

“Fine. It’s a strip club,” she started, raising her hands up, seeing you about to protest. “It’s really good money, just call the number. You won’t regret it.”

You had reservations. For one, it was a strip club. And you were an Omega. That limited what you could do. You weren’t sure you were that desperate. Yet. Regardless, you tucked the Post-It in your cowboy boot for safekeeping.

“Atta girl. Now, let’s just get shit-faced.”

That you had no problem in agreeing to.

Plenty of drinks later, you and Lou giggled like schoolgirls into your drinks, heads leant close together.

“C’mon, tell me, when you were all healed, how often did you touch yourself?”

Lou giggled and leant even closer, her voice dropping, just for you to hear.

“Girl, I got so wet over the stupidest things. Had my fingers inside myself more than out. Thank you, Dr Warren, for blessing me with such a great pussy.”

You giggled into your drink. You could attest to getting horny over dumb things. Thankfully, you’d calmed down, but those late teen years had been something else.

“I remember shaving my vajayjay for the first time, and I found myself hella horny. Like, nobody tells you that! I think I humped the armrest of my couch just to get some kind of relief.”

She snorted. Then you heard the rumbling of a deep chuckle.

“Sure would have found some relief under my tongue, that’s for sure.”

He said it quietly. More to himself than to anyone.

You turned to the owner of the deep masculine voice, a retort ready on your tongue, but it died the moment you saw the burly giant of a man.

His eyes pierced yours. You couldn’t tell if they were brown or hazel. Tendrils of hair framed his face, and the rest was pulled up in a bun. Tats covered his arms, neck, and every bit of skin on his body, as evident from the massive hole in his muscle tee. He held a tumbler with amber liquid inside, swilling the contents, and your eyes honed in on his fingers, where intricate patterns covered each digit.

He was a modern-day Viking.

Then you felt it. The slight quiver in your pussy.

Tags: @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch