#safe box rental

[vintage-vaults-rent-a-box]

Is it Safe to Store Jewelry in a Bank Locker?

At Vintage Vaults, we prioritize the security and protection of your valuable jewelry assets. We understand the importance of keeping your jewelry safe, which is why we offer comprehensive insights into the advantages and considerations of storing jewelry in a Safe Deposit Locker

Advantages of Storing Jewelry in a Bank Locker

1. Enhanced Security Measures

Bank lockers are equipped with state-of-the-art security systems, including surveillance cameras, alarms, and secure access protocols. This significantly reduces the risk of theft or loss compared to storing jewelry at home.

2. Protection Against Natural Disasters

Bank lockers provide a safe haven for your jewelry in case of natural disasters such as fires, floods, or earthquakes. These facilities are designed to withstand such emergencies, ensuring the preservation of your precious items.

3. Insurance Coverage

Many banks offer insurance coverage for items stored in their lockers. This provides an additional layer of protection and financial security in the event of unforeseen circumstances.

Considerations for Storing Jewelry in a Bank Locker

1. Limited Access

Access to your jewelry may be restricted to bank operating hours, which could be inconvenient for frequent access.

2. Cost of Rental

Bank lockers often come with rental fees, which should be factored into the overall cost of storing your jewelry.

3. Documentation Requirements

Banks may require detailed documentation of the items stored in the locker, including appraisals and inventory lists.

Best Practices for Storing Jewelry

To ensure the safety and longevity of your jewelry, follow these best practices:

Regular Maintenance: Periodically inspect and clean your jewelry to maintain its quality.

Document Inventory: Keep a detailed inventory of your jewelry items, including photographs and appraisals.

Insurance Coverage: Consider additional insurance coverage for high-value items stored in a bank locker.

In conclusion, storing jewelry in a bank locker offers unparalleled security and peace of mind for valuable assets. By considering the advantages and potential considerations outlined above, you can make an informed decision that ensures the safety and protection of your cherished jewelry pieces. For more information and personalized advice, please contact [Your Company Name].

[luulapants]

25 ways to be a little more punk in 2025

Cut fast fashion - buy used, learn to mend and/or make your own clothes, buy fewer clothes less often so you can save up for ethically made quality

Cancel subscriptions - relearn how to pirate media, spend $10/month buying a digital album from a small artist instead of on Spotify, stream on free services since the paid ones make you watch ads anyway

Green your community - there's lots of ways to do this, like seedbombing or joining a community garden or organizing neighborhood trash pickups

Be kind - stop to give directions, check on stopped cars, smile at kids, let people cut you in line, offer to get stuff off the high shelf, hold the door, ask people if they're okay

Intervene - learn bystander intervention techniques and be prepared to use them, even if it feels awkward

Get closer to your food - grow it yourself, can and preserve it, buy from a farmstand, learn where it's from, go fishing, make it from scratch, learn a new ingredient

Use opensource software - try LibreOffice, try Reaper, learn Linux, use a free Photoshop clone. The next time an app tries to force you to pay, look to see if there's an opensource alternative

Make less trash - start a compost, be mindful of packaging, find another use for that plastic, make it a challenge for yourself!

Get involved in local politics - show up at meetings for city council, the zoning commission, the park district, school boards; fight the NIMBYs that always show up and force them to focus on the things impacting the most vulnerable folks in your community

DIY > fashion - shake off the obsession with pristine presentation that you've been taught! Cut your own hair, use homemade cosmetics, exchange mani/pedis with friends, make your own jewelry, duct tape those broken headphones!

Ditch Google - Chromium browsers (which is almost all of them) are now bloated spyware, and Google search sucks now, so why not finally make the jump to Firefox and another search like DuckDuckGo? Or put the Wikipedia app on your phone and look things up there?

Forage - learn about local edible plants and how to safely and sustainably harvest them or go find fruit trees and such accessible to the public.

Volunteer - every week tutoring at the library or once a month at the humane society or twice a year serving food at the soup kitchen, you can find something that matches your availability

Help your neighbors - which means you have to meet them first and find out how you can help (including your unhoused neighbors), like elderly or disabled folks that might need help with yardwork or who that escape artist dog belongs to or whether the police have been hassling people sleeping rough

Fix stuff - the next time something breaks (a small appliance, an electronic, a piece of furniture, etc.), see if you can figure out what's wrong with it, if there are tutorials on fixing it, or if you can order a replacement part from the manufacturer instead of trashing the whole thing

Mix up your transit - find out what's walkable, try biking instead of driving, try public transit and complain to the city if it sucks, take a train instead of a plane, start a carpool at work

Engage in the arts - go see a local play, check out an art gallery or a small museum, buy art from the farmer's market

Go to the library - to check out a book or a movie or a CD, to use the computers or the printer, to find out if they have other weird rentals like a seed library or luggage, to use meeting space, to file your taxes, to take a class, to ask question

Listen local - see what's happening at local music venues or other events where local musicians will be performing, stop for buskers, find a favorite artist, and support them

Buy local - it's less convenient than online shopping or going to a big box store that sells everything, but try buying what you can from small local shops in your area

Become unmarketable - there are a lot of ways you can disrupt your online marketing surveillance, including buying less, using decoy emails, deleting or removing permissions from apps that spy on you, checking your privacy settings, not clicking advertising links, and...

Use cash - go to the bank and take out cash instead of using your credit card or e-payment for everything! It's better on small businesses and it's untraceable

Give what you can - as capitalism churns on, normal shmucks have less and less, so think about what you can give (time, money, skills, space, stuff) and how it will make the most impact

Talk about wages - with your coworkers, with your friends, while unionizing! Stop thinking about wages as a measure of your worth and talk about whether or not the bosses are paying fairly for the labor they receive

Think about wealthflow - there are a thousand little mechanisms that corporations and billionaires use to capture wealth from the lower class: fees for transactions, interest, vendor platforms, subscriptions, and more. Start thinking about where your money goes, how and where it's getting captured and removed from our class, and where you have the ability to cut off the flow and pass cash directly to your fellow working class people

[t4t4t]

Hi, remaking bc long/no donations in 5 days

I'm still recovering from bottom surgery I got on July 25th, but I feel better and better every day. I've tried applying for jobs a bunch but still no luck so far. (The 500 deposit may be only required if I / we get better income. Idk. It's rental by owner. They may understand prioritizing surgery needs around the date of her surgery, as well.)

Collie is getting bottom surgery herself on November 13th, less than a month away. She needs to know she has a space she can recover safely.

I basically was only able to pay off the PO box so far, we only have 50 left rn after gas and such over the past 16 days.

We've been working towards these surgeries since 2019, and we've been on and off homeless like 75% of the time since 2020, trying not to be, failing somehow, and coping with waiting. Please help, anything helps. <3

0/829+500

https://venmo.com/u/Leah-Esther-Rose

https://www.paypal.me/androgynophore

https://venmo.com/u/nora-esther-rose

https://www.paypal.me/NoraEstherRose

[rosemaryhoney27]

Gotham's sunshine child part 3

“You Mess With Him, You Answer to Gotham”

It started with a bruised lip.

Just a little thing. A split at the corner of Danny’s mouth and a faint scuff on his cheek.

To anyone else, it might have gone unnoticed. Gotham’s a rough place—people get bruised all the time. But Red Hood noticed. And Red Hood didn’t do unnoticed.

Jason found him in the East End, same as always, seated cross-legged on a crate behind a laundromat. A trio of tiny kids were gathered around him, Danny animatedly explaining long division on the back of a pizza box.

He didn’t flinch when Jason dropped down from the fire escape, but the moment he turned and Jason saw the bruise… something in him snapped.

“Who,” Jason growled, voice low and steady, “put their hands on you?”

Danny blinked. “Huh?”

“Your face.” Jason pointed. “Don’t play dumb, kid. What happened?”

Danny hesitated. “Oh. That. Nothing serious. Some guy didn’t like that I told him not to harass the waitress at DeeDee’s Diner. He shoved me. It’s fine.”

Jason did not think it was fine.

Jason thought it was the opposite of fine.

Jason made sure the kids were safe and left.

The man in question was later found duct-taped to a lamppost in nothing but his underwear and a bright pink sign reading “I HARASS WAITRESSES AND HIT KIDS” in glittery marker. No one saw a thing. The waitress got her tips covered for the month.

When Danny found out, he sighed.

“Jason.”

“I’m just saying,” Red Hood replied, smug behind his helmet, “Gotham’s got your back.”

It became a thing after that.

Someone tried to scam Danny? A tech repair shop mysteriously had its Yelp rating obliterated overnight and got a surprise inspection from the fire department. Barbara swore she didn’t do it. Out loud.

A slumlord tried to evict a group of squatters Danny had quietly been helping? The building got “accidentally” donated to a housing nonprofit. Courtesy of one B. Wayne and some forged signatures Dick may or may not have acrobatically acquired.

Some idiot tried to rob Danny again?

They were found three alleys over with every shoelace tied to their belt loops and a very clear message written in ketchup: NOT HIM.

It wasn’t always the Bat-Family either.

Civilians got in on it. A fruit vendor started giving Danny free apples “because you remind me of my nephew.” A gang of teen taggers painted a mural of him near Blackgate, halo and all. An old lady on Danny’s usual bus route started crocheting him scarves “because your hoodie’s full of holes, sweetpea.”

Danny protested. A lot.

“You guys don’t have to do this,” he told the kids he tutored after they “accidentally” spilled soda on the shoes of a guy who’d cursed at Danny.

“Yeah, we do,” one of them replied, chin up and defiant. “You helped us. That’s worth something.”

Danny tried to argue.

They ignored him.

The tipping point came when someone—some fool—decided to try and kidnap him.

Some out-of-town gang. Didn’t know the rules. Thought he was just another soft face with no backup.

They tried to grab him outside the soup kitchen.

They never made it past the sidewalk.

In seconds, there were people there—staff, other volunteers, even a grumpy teen Danny had helped with math homework once. The gangsters got swarmed before they could blink. Cops showed up, baffled. The only evidence left behind was a pile of duct tape and a very traumatized rental van with a glitter bomb in the glove box.

Batgirl was first to respond.

“I wasn’t even needed,” she muttered afterward to Bruce. “It was… honestly kind of terrifying.”

Bruce didn’t say much. Just turned to Alfred and asked if the guest room closest to the kitchen could be made up. Again.

They tried again. A week later.

Only this time, the whole Bat-Family got involved.

Someone had clearly put out a bounty. Kidnapping. Alive. Big payout.

The team sprang into action.

Red Hood hit the streets like a hurricane.

Nightwing ran surveillance with Oracle, flagging known traffickers and suspicious activity.

Robin—Damian—gritted his teeth and snarled at Bruce: “We are adopting him. This is not up for debate.”

“I don’t think he’d let us,” Bruce admitted.

“Then we do it anyway.”

Danny was fine.

Of course he was.

He had a faint burn on one arm from phasing through a too-tight restraint, but otherwise? Fine. He’d shorted out the van’s electronics and ghosted through the floor while humming the SpongeBob theme. Because of course he did.

“Are you mad?” he asked when Bruce finally tracked him down.

Bruce just looked at him, jaw tight.

“You could’ve died.”

Danny shrugged. “Yeah. Again.”

“Danny.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to—look, it’s okay. I can handle myself. Really.”

Bruce studied him for a long moment.

Then: “Next time, let us handle it.”

Danny opened his mouth.

“Gotham wants you safe,” Bruce added softly. “Not just me. Not just my family. All of us. So let us help. Please.”

For once, Danny didn’t argue.

He nodded, quietly.

“…Okay.”

That night, Danny stayed at the Manor. Just one night, he promised.

It turned into two.

Then three.

By the end of the week, Alfred had added “Danny’s Favorite Cereal” to the shopping list and Tim had programmed the Cave’s system to alert them of any pings on his name.

Bruce didn’t force anything.

But when Danny fell asleep on the couch during a movie night and Damian covered him with a blanket without comment?

Bruce started the paperwork.

Danny could dodge billionaires all he wanted.

But Gotham had already claimed him.

[hippiegoth97]

Random Jonathan Thought #1

Content Warning, 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, smut, perv!jonathan byers, perv!fem!reader, no use of y/n, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, sexual fantasies, mentions of casual sex (protection not specified), mentions of sexual photos, no dialogue

Some Tags: @rafeyscurtainbangs @loserboysandlithium @mediocredreams @strangererotica @melodymunson

@bloodibambiidoll @userchai @violetpixiedust @keikoraven @keeksandgigz

He's watching you again.

A surge of excitement jolts through you at the thought. To see him peeking around the corner of his wispy white curtains from across the alley, in the building that serves as identical twin sister to yours. You'd just gotten home a couple of minutes ago, dropping off your purse and coat at the door, feeding your cat, Mr. Whiskers, before going to your room. It's been a very long day at the office for you, and all you've been able to think about is coming back to this.

It all started totally by accident. You noticed an unfamiliar man moving into the building next door, a handsome yet odd young blood who came to NYC to achieve some far-fetched artistic dream. Boxes of stuff nearly bursting from his junker of a car, expensive camera draped around his neck for safe keeping. It was too much for you to resist helping him as you watched him struggle from a couple floors above ground. You called down to him, offering your assistance, and he was more than glad to take it.

You helped him haul every last box up the couple flights of stairs, coming to find out his new apartment sits right across the narrow alley from your own. You commented on such, letting him know he could feel free to wave to you in passing if the mood struck. Little did you know, that this innocent enough offer would soon open a rather taboo door, never to be closed again by the look of it. In thanks of your help, the young man formally introduced himself, and ordered some take-out from a Chinese place you recommended.

Jonathan, you soon learned was his name. He was only a couple of years younger than you, still in his very early twenties, taking the one opportunity he had to get out of his wretchedly small hometown. He told you about his family, and you told him about yours. Not much to go on there, as you'd run away at sixteen to escape a couple of drunks you unfortunately called 'Mom' and 'Dad'. Nevertheless, you and Jonathan had a nice, casual talk, promising to look out for one another as neighbors. Neighbors. That's what you were supposed to be. Instead of playing this mildly fucked-up game you can't seem to find a way out of. Not that you're really complaining.

Back to the subject, it all started on a particularly humid night. As is typical for living in the Big Apple, your shitty landlord couldn't be bothered to have proper air conditioning put into his numerous rental properties. So, you had decided to go nearly naked in your apartment to beat the heat. You had a fan going, the window open as wide as it could go, lounging around in a thin t-shirt and skimpy panties.

You were in your room, trying to settle in for the night. But it was just too hot. You'd decided, fuck it, you can't sleep, and you may as well have a reason to be hot and bothered. You pulled open your bedside drawer, retrieving a reliable rabbit to satiate your growing hunger for release. You shoved your panties off, kicking them over the side of the bed. You clicked the toy on, which began buzzing firmly in your hand. You didn't waste any time at all, spreading your legs wide open and bringing the head of the rabbit to your needy clit.

Little did you know, at first, that Jonathan was getting the most perfect, pornographic view of you from across the alley. He'd been laid up in bed, lights off as he struggled to find some way to stay cool. He was completely nude between his thin sheets, and still sweating like a damn pig. He kept tossing and turning, eventually giving up and clicking on the small TV in his room to watch a movie or something. While he flipped mindlessly through the channels, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head to see what the movement was, and found you splayed out on your bed, touching yourself. He gasped in shock, fumbling with the remote so he didn't drop it loudly on the floor. Your buildings were definitely close enough to where you could hear a decent amount of sound if the windows were left open.

He caught the offending device, tossing it beside him on the bed. The little show you were putting on became far more interesting. Jonathan did briefly battle with himself whether or not it was right to be watching you like this, but his rapidly hardening cock won that argument. He rationalized it to himself, that maybe you wanted him to see you. You always left your curtains open, and waved at him at all hours of the day, whether you were fully dressed, or wrapped in nothing but a towel. He'd deal with the guilt later, he decided. He just couldn't bear to take his eyes off of you. His young, hot neighbor, who was currently lost in pleasure as she fucked herself with a silicone rabbit.

While Jonathan grappled with the potential implications of what spying on you could mean for your neighborly relationship, you continued to work the toy between your legs exactly to your liking. The thick shaft slid in and out of your pussy with ease, arousal spilling from you messily every few strokes. The buzzing 'ears' of the rabbit whirred against your clit, building you up towards an orgasm you realized you desperately needed. You weren't thinking about anyone in particular while doing this, mainly focusing on the sensations you were feeling with your eyes screwed shut.

But something felt off. Like someone was watching you. You peeled your eyes open for a moment, still going to town on yourself. Your eyes drifted around the room, looking for anything potentially lurking in the dark corners. Shadows were cast by the summer moon shining through your window, and your eyes drew past the open pane without much thought. That is, until you saw him. Jonathan, your neighbor, was watching you from the very edge of his own window. You couldn't make out much of him in the dark, but you knew he was there. The faintest outline of his head peered back at you.

Part of you wanted to stop, to stand up and go to the window and shout across the alley about how much of a pervert he was. It would've been the logical thing to do at such an invasion of privacy. But the other part, found it extremely hot that your cute neighbor wanted to see you in this way. You decided to play along, raising your free hand to wiggle your fingers at him like you always did, with a playful smirk plastered on your face.

Jonathan jerked back from the window at first when you waved, his face going red as a beet at getting caught. His heart pounded in his chest, he wondered how he would ever face you again after this. But the look on your face, and how you kept going, made him realize that you weren't grossed out, or offended. He was right, you liked it. He leaned back into view, perhaps a little further to let you know he was there. He waved back, and settled himself on the edge of his bed to watch you even more. His hand found his cock already dripping with need, a low moan escaping his thin lips as he closed his fist around himself.

When Jonathan came back into your line of sight, it was very clear what he was doing. You couldn't quite see below the window sill, but you could tell he was jerking off by the way his arm moved up and down, and how his mouth feel open just slightly. He was getting off on watching you. This only made the fire inside you burn hotter, making you feel as if you were melting into the bed at this point. You began to think of him now. You kept your eyes locked on him as you pounded your pussy with your toy, wishing it was him instead. You wanted Jonathan there, to touch you, kiss you, fuck you until you screamed his name. You wanted to have him there in your bed, sitting is his lap while his slender fingers pumped away inside you. You wanted to take his no-doubt gorgeous cock in your mouth, and suck the utter life out of him while he held you down. You wanted to ride him until your legs gave out, and have him fill you up with his sticky cum.

Jonathan refused to look away as your motions grew needier, your wrist getting a pretty good workout as you shoved the toy in harder, faster, deeper. He envied the thing, wishing he could be there instead. He stroked himself in time with your thrusts, dreaming up very filthy things about you to fill in the gaps. He craved the feeling of your lips on his neck, kissing and sucking all kinds of nasty bruises on his pale flesh. He wished for the opportunity to fuck your face until tears rolled down your cheeks and drool pooled heavily on your chin. He wanted to shove your head deep into your mattress while pounding you from behind, slapping your ass and making you squeal until you came all over his cock.

You could see him getting closer, and felt yourself doing the same. Your helpless moans and cries grew louder as the minutes passed, and you hoped Jonathan was able to hear them. Despite your wrist beginning to get tired in your fervor, you soldiered on. You weren't stopping for anything. You were making an absolute mess of your bed, sweat and juices dripping from you and soaking directly into the sheets. But you didn't care. You needed to cum, and you needed it soon. You kept hold of the idea of Jonathan's cock being the object fucking into you instead of the rabbit, moaning for him again and again when its rubber head hit your g-spot just right.

Jonathan was close, and he could tell you were, too. Fuck, he could hear some of those filthy noises you were making, which only pushed him closer to the edge. He listened and watched as you whined out his name, your thighs trembling as your orgasm was almost taking hold. His own high hit him unexpectedly, and he did his best to stand up to show you as his release spilled from his dick in thick spurts. He groaned loud enough for you to hear, still staring at you as his cum landed on his hand and the floor.

You cried out his name in ecstasy when you saw him lose control, eyes rolling back just after you watched him stand to show you his release. Your body shook as you came seconds after him, more mess spilling out of you and all over the bed. You heard it splash from your pussy, drenching your thighs and the sheets. You turned the toy off as your high ran its course, tossing it off to the side with little care where it would land. Once you caught your breath, you sat up to look across the alley again. You found Jonathan looking back at you, and he gave you another small wave. Awe rested in his eyes, probably from the massive amount of cum that came out of you just seconds before. You waved back at him, a satisfied smile on your face. You cleaned up and fell right asleep shortly after that, and Jonathan did the same.

After that first incident, this kind of thing became rather normal for the two of you. On many nights, either one or both of you will put on a 'show' of some kind. Most times it's just a silly strip tease, removing your clothes nice and slow while the other one watches. Even if it never leads to simultaneous masturbation, it's still highly thrilling for you. Other times, you up the stakes. Sometimes, one of you brings a date home. You bring them to your room, take off all your clothes, and go to town while the other one watches the whole thing.

None of these encounters are something you discuss beforehand. Oddly enough, your sexual adventures seem to only exist between the span of your twin windows, using them like mirrors you gaze into to feed your wildest fantasies. Outside of them, you only give polite greetings or farewells as you go about your lives. It's easier that way, you suppose. Not to mention far more exciting.

During the times when either of you bring a partner home, it's borderline intoxicating. You can't begin to count the number of times you've looked out the window to see Jonathan roughly fisting himself as you're getting absolutely railed. It heightens every sensation to know he's watching you, wishing he was the man to make you scream. Hell, sometimes he even has his camera out, snapping photos of you in every compromising position imaginable. Photos he later develops and slips underneath your door for you, sometimes with suggestive notes, or photos of himself to compliment them.

You, on the other hand, like to play with yourself in bed when Jonathan brings a girl to his place. You copy the positions he puts her in, fucking yourself on the rubber rabbit while he steals greedy glances over at you. You cum at the same time every time he does this, due to him timing his thrusts and speed to what he knows gets you off. And he hasn't even been on the other side of your window to figure that out.

It's been going on for months now, and you swear you'll never get enough. This little unspoken arrangement you have is probably the healthiest relationship you've ever been in, and you aren't even actually dating. You barely ever even say a word to each other, and you're unbelievably happy. You get everything you want, without having to deal with the dramatic bullshit that comes from typical relationships. And tonight, it looks like you little voyeur friend has brought a pretty blonde home. All that's left to do now is get in position, and enjoy the show.

[inkieflame]

Time to talk about Panic Boxes!

(I figured I should talk about them since my upcoming oneshot for my Lab AU mentions them briefly, and I've only really mentioned them in passing before)

Tw: discussion of panic attacks and anxiety

First things first! A Panic Box is a black box that sits in the corner of some subjects rooms. It's about big enough for them to fit inside if they tuck their legs under them, pull all their limbs close to their body, and duck their head between their knees. There is a flap over the door that can easily be pushed open and closed so the subject can enter and exit whenever they want, while still keeping the box dark inside.

It's not originally called a Panic Box. The Watchers just call it a cage, but the subjects renamed it to humanize it a bit more.

The Watchers "cage train" certain subjects that have anxiety problems, but conditioning them to associate the dark, tight space with safety. They began doing this because regular panic attacks had become a problem (specifically in Jimmy and Pearl) and they didn't want to deal with them crying and screaming. Better to bottle it all up and internalize your problems :)

Side note, a related training program that the Watchers enforce is muzzle training. The same concept (conditioning cooperation with wearing a muzzle) with that added bonus that Joel can't freaking bite them anymore, the FREAK.

Uh. Yeah.

In the Watcher's notes, they describe the two training programs like this:

Cage trained: These subjects often have issues with lots of people or loud noises. They have been conditioned to retreat to their cage to help calm down. The cage is a small dark space designed to make the subject feel safe. Some subjects may need coercion to enter their cage, but their panic should cease upon entering.

Muzzle trained: These subjects have a history of biting. Once a muzzle is placed on them, their aggression should die. Muzzles often must be forced on to a subject.

Due to the conditioning, many of the subjects actually like the Panic Boxes. If Jimmy isn't too achy from his rentals, he can often be found cramped into the box in his spare time, mind numb to his panic and problems (at least for now).

Now, this does have some unintended (totally intended) side effects, because shoving your emotions deep down and ignoring them isn't healthy. It can lead to heightened anxiety, depression and stress (which leads to more time in the panic box, aggravating the symptoms more and creating a negative feedback loop) as well as headaches, digestive issues, difficulty sleeping, and a weakened immune system.

(these are real side effects of not processing your emotions in a healthy way. So, uh, go to therapy or something. Call your dad. Idk)

[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

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Cuff it 👀

Well, you got me. Forcing me to write the fic I have been joking about for a whole year now. Safe to say this fic requires you to listen to CUFF IT. It's a good song I would love to go roller skating while to one day. The disco vibes beg for the skates. This fic isn't about that. I present a reader that is very horny down bad for Wriothesley while I attempt to keep this humorous and safe for work.

I think it's very obvious there is reference to sexual content. It was very hard to think of ways to keep this sfw considering the lyrical content. I give you the long joked about CUFF IT fic.

Words: 1949 Fem!Reader Modern AU This feels like such a crack fic

Navia spit out her drink as Y/N’s phone began ringing, interrupting the music they had been listening to. “Why is that your ringtone?”

“So you have no complaints about me playing the song, but when it’s my ringtone, there is a complaint?” Y/N asked, still standing on top of the step ladder as she put dishes away in the top cabinet.

“I agree it’s a good song but seriously that's your ringtone?” She asked again.

“I have my reasons. Just answer it for me. You’re closer.” It was easier to just keep shoving cups in the cabinet than to take a break. That box was almost empty.

Navia looked at the call screen. “You have a song about about riding-”

“Just answer!”

Navia swiped answered the call and placed it on speaker for Y/N to listen. “Took you long enough.” Wriothesley’s voice came through the speaker.

“Yeah, we’re putting stuff up still. Navia had to rush to grab my phone. How are you and Clorinde doing with my furniture?” Y/N spoke loud enough to be clear.

“Perfectly strapped down to the rental. We took a detour to pick up some food if you don’t mind.” He continued explaining. “Clorinde said you and Navia were talking about wanting to try out that new restaurant that opened so we just got some stuff from there.”

“Good memory. Navia kept staring at the menu when we were on break.” She told on her friend.

“I’m just curious to see how they make their cakes. It’s my job as a baker to see how other places make the same desserts to see what I can do better.” Navia defended.

“Which is why we made sure to grab some,” Clorinde said, sounding tired from the lifting they had been doing.

“We should take a nice break when y’all get back. We got most of the kitchen unpacked anyway. How long till you’re back?” Y/N asked.

“Five or so minutes. Is the door still open?”

“Yeah.”

“See you soon then,” Wriothesley spoke before hanging up. The music from Y/N’s phone began to play again filling the mostly empty room.

“Is this ringtone my horrible way of finding out you two are dating?” Navia asked now a little in horror at how completely inappropriate Y/N’s taste in ringtones was.

“Nope!” Another shelf had been filled, and on to the next. “But if we were dating I would happily act out said lyrics.”

“That’s too much information.” And not something Navia even wanted the mental image of.

“If I have to hear about what you would like to do with Clorinde behind closed doors, I think you can deal with the lyrical content of ‘Cuff It’. I mean it’s only bad when you pay attention to the lyrics.”

“I could excuse it if the lyrics were set to the chorus! At least that’s tame in comparison, you might be able to get away with it if he overheard that as your ringtone for him.”

“And Wriothesley won’t hear what I have set as his ringtone. Even then I think everyone knows it’s my favorite song.” Y/N defended herself. She had a few months of this as his ringtone and nothing bad had happened so she must have been in the clear with that silly decision she made late one night updating ringtones for her friends.

“Even then, don’t you think on the off chance he hears it there won’t be questions. I mean the lyrics it opens with are ‘Hypersonic, sex erotic’. I think anyone would ask questions.” Navia tried appealing to her sense of reason.

“You know I keep my ringer off most of the time anyway. It only played because I’m connected to a Bluetooth speaker. I'm perfectly fine to keep those lyrics as a ringtone that plays like in a blue moon.”

Navia rubbed the temples of her forehead. If this was what she was like before even making a move on Wriothesley, she was afraid of what would happen if they ever became an item. “What even drove you to set the dirtiest part of the song as his ringtone? Actually, do I even want to know?”

Y/N laughed. “You remember last Halloween when he got forced to dress up? This song just happened to be playing as he was twirling around handcuffs. I can still see the twirls as the song played.” She began singing as the memory played in her head. “Come and cuff it, cuff it, cuff it, cuff it, baby. While I buss it-”

“That better not be why this is your favorite song.” Navia interrupted. “Oh my gosh, is that why you sing that part so loud?”

“The song is two years old and that only happened last year. I've been loving this song. And perhaps. A girl can daydream.”

“Just ask him out instead of being ridiculous. He’s gonna catch that ringtone one day.”

“When you ask out Clorinde! Even then I’m not sure if he would even be open to the idea of going out on a date. If I ask him out it might make things weird between us. I really do like him. More than I just want to sit on him kind of way.” Navia rolled her eyes at that sentence as Y/N continued. “I mean I know he can look scary but he is just such a sweetheart! I mean come on he didn’t have to help me move. Then there was that one time he picked me up cause there was a nail in my tire. Oh, and that day he begged to come over when I was watching my grandma’s puppy.”

“I get it! I just really think you should ask him out. Have you considered maybe he does all those things 'cause he likes you too?” Navia could hear the rental vehicle pull up. “I’m gonna go see what they need help with.”

Y/N frowned at the question Navia had left her on. There was no way she would be pondering such a question when she had a cabinet almost filled and Wriothesly just outside her new home.

Even then there wasn't anything wrong about that song being her ringtone. Plenty of people had ringtones with raunchy lyrics. This one was at least award-winning and it sounded so fun that not everyone even saw how dirty of a song it was. Was there really anything wrong with having the ringtone of the guy she would love to fall in love with to be a song about wanting to ride his dick?

…okay maybe phrasing it like that she could see Navia’s point. Y/N sighed. Guess it was time to change her ringtone for Wriothesley to be something more appropriate. It was a 2 am decision and to be fair, no one ever had good ideas at that hour.

She could hear bags being placed on the counter. “Part of taking a break requires you to get down from there.” Wriothesley was quick to remind her.

“I'm almost done. I'll get down in a bit. No issues with loading anything right?” She asked not wanting to look him in the eye just yet considering her previous thoughts.

“It went well. It was tiring though. Your bed frame was heavier than it looked though.”

“Good thing I have your help then. Actually, could you hand me my phone real quick?” She wanted to see time but also to change the album that was playing.

Wriothesley grabbed the phone for her before walking over. “Yeah, here you go.” There wasn't even a chance to grab the phone before it started ringing. The phone lit up with his name on the screen and a photo of him filling the screen.

Hypersonic, sex erotic On my body, boy, you got it Hit them 'draulics, while I ride it Got me actin' hella thotty So excited, so exotic

Despite the song on her ringtone playing so loudly, the room was just quiet. Navia was right and she was a fool. She felt frozen, unable to move despite the fact she could have easily taken the phone out of his hand.

Wriothesley answered the phone before the song could be played any further. Clorinde’s voice came through the speakers. “Navia and I are going back to the restaurant. They forgot some of your food. Wriothesley’s phone is still with us. Let him know.”

“Will do,” Y/N answered before Clorinde hung up the phone where her music had once again returned to the speakers. “I must set the wrong song as my ringtone for you. Funny mistake right?”

“When I switched phone brands you were the one who kept showing me the different ways to customize it.” Wriothesley reminded her. “You can’t stand on that ladder forever.”

“I feel like it’s better if I do.” The longer she stayed on the ladder, the longer till her feelings had to be rejected.

“Get down.”

It was hard not to frown as she got down from the step ladder. She wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave the moment Clorinde and Navia got back with the food and his phone. She didn't dare look him in the eye.

“I know it's one of your favorites and all but I think I'm going to need some more explanation than that of why you have that set as my ringtone.” He was at least kind enough to give her the phone back.

“You're a smart guy. Don't make me. This is embarrassing enough.” Y/N put the phone down on the counter behind her after turning down the volume of music playing. “Just let me down already. It's not like I was ever expecting a chance. It doesn't take a genius to see you weren't interested in any sort of relationship.”

“Who said I was uninterested?”

A rough calloused hand gently moved her chin up forcing her to look Wriothesley in the eyes. “You never acted as you were.” The words came out quiet, still flustered from before.

“It's not like you made it clear before either. Even then when I did try asking you out before, there was always something going on to where you couldn't go. I almost thought you were purposefully trying to avoid me.”

“I would never. I was just busy. I didn't even think you were asking me out.” Her eyes drifted off to the side. “How many times?”

Wriothesley let out a nervous laugh. “I would rather not count that.”

“I can’t believe I’m that oblivious that you won't even tell me how many times. Gosh, I'm stupid.”

“I wouldn’t call you stupid. Just distracted.”

“That doesn't help me feel better.”

“I have an idea what might make you feel better.”

Y/N laughed at herself. “Yeah, crawling under my blankets never to return.”

“Then let me do this before you go.”

The kiss from Wriothesley was gentle, warm, and inviting. Tender yet she could tell how much he wanted it. She didn’t even notice how her arms moved on their own, desperate to pull him closer. There was the faint taste of tea, not surprising with how cold it had been that day.

That was the perfect song to set as her ringtone with it leading to this. The part of her that planned on cursing that restaurant just for being the reason Clorinde had called her was now thanking them for forgetting their food. It was a perfect miracle.

If it wasn't for the fact that she was hungry and had a deadline on when to return the rental truck, that door would be locked. It would be best if Navia and Clorinde took their sweet time so she could keep savoring this kiss.

[salamandergoo]

STWG Prompt: Outsider POV (again!)

Scott Clarke had lived in Hawkins for almost 20 years now. He moved there with his mother during his senior year of high school and had expected to be long gone before all the boxes were unpacked. But she’d been unwell, had never really been well, in all honestly, so he stayed close for college.

And then he’d gotten his teaching degree and certifications and the middle school had needed a science teacher. He’d always dreamed of working on movies, of making the great practical special effects. But teaching was safer, it kept him close to his mother, he’d just have to let those dreams be dreams.

He liked his job, he did! He liked working with kids, liked seeing them light up when they were interested, when things clicked. And Hawkins wasn’t all bad. The movie rental store had a good selection of sci fi and horror, his favorite, and mysteries, his mother’s. It was quiet, there was a market on the weekends, there was even an arcade.

When his mother passed, rather suddenly, he thought it could be his chance to go after those dreams he’d once had, but as he’d looked around at the life he’d built, as he wrestled with grief that tangled around his ribs, he came to realize… he didn’t want to leave.

Scott had made himself a comfortable, happy life in Hawkins.

So he didn’t leave. He stayed as the 70s turned into the 80s. The AV club was passed to his hands after the last teacher grew tired of running it and he dug in eagerly, taking stock of the equipment the school had and appealing to the board for more, even if the club had notably low membership.

A group of sixth graders joined and were rambunctious and passionate and the kind of friend group he thought movies were made about. They were eager and interested and always talking over each other except for the smallest boy, though they listened when he did speak up.

And Scott developed an extra soft spot for those boys. They always asked interesting questions that could send him into a long tangent. He was sure he’d had the older siblings of two of the boys, could remember Nancy Wheeler who always tried to get away with reading under her desk during his classes. He didn’t remember Jonathan Byers so much, just knew he’d definitely been in the class. He supposed he must have been like his little brother Will, but without the friend group to listen.

He didn’t notice that anything was out of the ordinary when Will was absent from his class one fall morning. The other three boys were there, he had new equipment to show them. He felt a little bad showing Mike, Lucas, and Dustin without Will there to see it too, but he knew they’d catch him up and give him a turn when he came back. He’d just figured Will had caught the stomach bug being passed around the school.

Of course, that offhand presumption was shattered by the alert of a search party being hastily organized. Will Byers was missing.

Scott was one of the first to rally, the thought of a young boy being missing making him queasy. That kind of thing just didn’t happen in Hawkins. Little boys got home safe and came to school and were always somewhere they were supposed to be. Not lost in the woods and alone and afraid.

He helped search for several nights, only taking breaks to eat and sleep between searching and teaching. He knew the other three boys were taking it hard, was surprised to see a girl with them that he didn’t recognize. Elenor was an odd girl, not that he’d seen much of her. He did his best to comfort the boys, but they’d been in a hurry for some reason. He was sure it was their way of coping.

When the funeral was announced, when he heard about Joyce yelling in the streets, when he’d seen Jonathan Byers and the boys at the funeral…

He knew something didn’t quite add up. Something seemed wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. But what was he? Will’s science teacher? His former science teacher now, not even that. What was he to a dead boy? How was he supposed to do much of anything now?

He sat at the small reception after, not feeling ready to walk away from a life that had held promise and wonder. He thought that was it, that he’d sit for a little while and quietly observe Will’s family, but then the trio of boys ran up to him.

They were asking strange questions, but he humored them, of course he did. They were grieving and it must be hard on such young kids to lose a close friend.

He’d thought that would be it for real as he bid a quiet word to Joyce and Jonathan before heading home. He couldn’t help the tears he shed for the boy, wondering if he’d known how much he meant to those who loved him in his last moments.

Getting a call from Dustin Henderson was… confusing to say the least. It was late and he’d answered the phone expecting a wrong number. But he answered the boy’s strange questions, wondering if he was writing a story or playing that game with his friends. It befuddled him, but he wrote it off and went to bed. Grief, he reminded himself again, was strange.

Of course, waking up the next day to hear the middle school had been raided by the government, pumped full of bullet holes, and that Will Byers was alive?

Well. Maybe his dream of working with sci fi concepts wasn’t so far fetched after all.

[kangaracha]

DAYBREAK; chapter 6

---

pairing lee know x reader

genre smau, dystopia AU, angst, hurt/comfort, slowburn romance, hope/hopelessness, life goes on, ordinary life during extraordinary times

summary independant entertainment doesn't make money, everyone knows that - not dancing, not boxing. not without a company's name attached to it and the soul ripped out of it so that it can only sit on the stage bleeding. you knew you never should have agreed to get involved in his studio, that the bills would pile up and the income would run dry, that the government would come knocking telling you to shut up and sit down...but it makes him so happy, to be able to dance. it gives him a reason to stay. you don't know what you'd do without that.

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

VOTE 1 JEONG JUWON

Fair wages, rental crackdowns, democratic policies! Now is the time to oust the tyrant from office!

A vote for third party is the same as no vote at all!

—

The flyers are scattered across every street and stuffed in every mailbox, spiralling into the air when the wind eddies and swirls around the tyres of the departing bus. 

You read them as you walk, looking but not looking the same way that you don't look at the cameras that watch every street corner from on high, the eyes of God affixed to the rooftops. Election propaganda - illegal to disperse and to read, and yet, overnight, someone has deposited hundreds of thousands of copies across the city. You hadn't thought it real when you'd seen it in the news this morning, but here they are, right in front of you, painting the street in red.

You wish that whoever had done this had thought twice about it before printing all of those off. Or just stuck up a few posters, even if those would be easy to tear down during the night before any of the city's early risers came out and saw them. The message was important, sure, but the flutter of paper everywhere the eye can see has set the entire world on edge; people's eyes dart back and forth as they walk, terrified of being caught reading illegal documents, and their feet trace unusual paths across the sidewalk as they try to step around the ones that haven't already been crushed underfoot until they are unrecogniseable. Anything to avoid being involved, anything to go about their day in the same, safe routines they always follow.

It sets you on edge too, your body tense and your breath rattling in your chest. The distance between home and work is a red abyss today, with no bridge to carry you safely across, and you can hear the snarls of predators just behind; the wail of a siren makes you jump as it races down the street, the sideways glance of a man on the corner sends you across the road in the wrong direction to avoid his path. Everywhere, the cameras watch, and every second your phone listens for any thoughts you might whisper to yourself without thinking.

You don't say a word the entire walk. Neither does anyone else.

There's an eerie silence in the air, you notice as you pass the bus stop and the noticeboard, also painted red with flyers. No one speaks on the phone or mumbles apologies as they pass each other, the factory lines are muted and civil and the strikes thin in numbers and dogged where they rest against their fences. Even the birds don't sing - you wonder if they were scared off by the papers too, or if they have a sense for when something dark and stormy is coming and have made themselves scarce before it all crashes down.

The hospital is tense too, its fists clenched around the hallways that its occupants hurry through in tight lines, avoiding each other's eyes. There are no flyers in here, but still, there is that sense of doom in the air that carries in on the breeze each time the doors slide open, magnified from its usual background hum. The new receptionist doesn't even lift her head to acknowledge you as you pass the front desk; you don't want to greet her anyway, because she is sitting in Helena's chair and scribbling away at a form with Helena's rainbow pens, the colour an eyesore when held in her thin, pale hands.

Eunchae is just the same, up on the wards; eyes that won't stay fixed on you, feet that dance around anything that could be considered treason. The look she gives you as you pass each other by is long, but silent, asking, have you seen it? Did you like it?

Saying, I don't know what's going to happen next.

You don't have any response for her. You kind of wish she would just open her mouth and crack one of her stupid jokes, make a dig about Minho or the cats or your patients, whatever it is that crosses her mind today - but this is a day of silence, and her mouth remains screwed firmly shut and does not open, even if she recognises the fear in your eyes. Even if she knows it reflects in hers too.

---

You walk up the stairs to the studio in near-darkness, the windows not quite catching the light of the street lamps outside. 

It's cold upstairs, and silent; for a second it seems strange, when you have been talking to Minho about a cat, but Peter isn't a cat at all, is he? Peter is a scared boy that peers at you through the crack in the office door as you switch some soft music on and noisily kick your feet against the floorboards in the most non-threatening way that you can. 

He creeps out of his hiding place when he is sure that it is just you, slipping through the shadows that surround the shaft of blue light from the windows to collect the container of scraps you've left for him on the corner of the boxing ring. You watch with wonder as he swallows it whole, shovelling it into his mouth like it might disappear if he waits too long; and you've known hunger before, but never the urgency with which he eats. 

Is that a habit drilled into him by the rebels, down in whatever dark holes they've been hiding him in, or from something else? The only thing you know about him is that he's running away from every power that exists in the city. No history, no personality. No name, either, you remember with a start, because you couldn't believe that Peter is his real name.

As if he can feel your eyes burning holes in his skin, he pauses, his cheeks stuffed with food as he stares at you across the room. It would be kind of endearing, if you weren't trying so hard to scrape together a fistful of hatred for him to hold in your heart. It's hard to resent someone with that kind of face; soft and round, innocent as a lamb.

No. His presence is like a gun pointed at your head, and your acceptance of him is a finger on the trigger. You are too scared to breathe. Minho has betrayed you.

Sorry, his eyes seem to say, his cheeks turning red, and then he fixes his eyes on his food instead, his chin dropped onto his chest to avoid catching your eyes again. You resolve to look away too, turning the music up a fraction more and dropping your phone onto the stereo, careful to angle the camera away from him. 

The music is a nice distraction, just loud enough to fill up the echo chamber in your head with something that isn't your own spiralling thoughts. You don't dance, so late in the night after such a long day, but you do listen, wandering aimlessly around the space as you wait for him to finish; and you suppose you don't really need to be here still when you had said you would just drop off the food and leave, but even so, you linger. It seems right to turn the music on for a moment, to cover the sound of him eating and watch the window while he stands out in fresher air than he has seen since Minho was here yesterday. 

The soft scrape of the container being set back down catches your attention, the movement in the corner of your eye turning your head reflexively. He meets your eyes across the room; when he sees he has your attention, his mouth opens, forming the word thankyou in the air, and then he bows, perfectly polite. Civilised, cowed, appropriately humble for his lot in life, nothing like how you would imagine a criminal to be - but then, you are all criminals in the eyes of the government, aren't you? Anyone you saw on the streets could be disconnected, or tied to the rebels, or distracting their phones with white noise to have whispered conversations outside of the safety net.

You don't think you look like a criminal, and yet you are. And Minho is. And Helena, who had transgressed terribly enough to be taken away in the night without warning or trial. Innocent, you'd thought of Helena that morning Eunchae had asked after her, and then innocent Chan had told you in the evening while you stared at this boy-

Maybe your face softens, or maybe he can read your mind; maybe he is just the type to extend a hand first, even when you have only ever bared your teeth in his direction. Either way, he offers you a smile that you think would be bright enough to light up the room if he did not strangle it with fear, and then he disappears back into the office, into his hole in the wall; his tiny, stifled existence, away from the suddenly large-seeming life you're living outside.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @keepswingin @rylea08 @puppysmileseungmin

@thatonedemigodfromseoul @bokkiesplace @amyyscorner @dearly-somber @kayleefriedchicken

@realrintaro @estella-novella

[vintage-vaults-rent-a-box]

What is the best way to store a Rolex watch?

Ways to Store Your Rolex Watch

Introduction

In this comprehensive guide, we delve into the best practices for storing your precious Rolex watch to maintain its condition and value over time. Proper storage is essential for preserving the longevity and aesthetics of luxury timepieces like Rolex.

Choosing the Right Storage Method

Watch Box or Case

Investing in a high-quality watch box or case is paramount. Ensure it is specifically designed for luxury watches and features soft, non-abrasive interiors such as velvet or suede to prevent scratching.

Avoid Moisture and Humidity

Humidity can be detrimental to the internal mechanisms of your Rolex. Use desiccants like silica gel packs inside the storage box to absorb moisture and maintain ideal humidity levels.

Shield from Direct Sunlight

Prolonged exposure to sunlight can fade the dial and damage the materials of your Rolex. Store your watch in a cool, dark place away from direct sunlight to preserve its original luster.

Regular Maintenance

Don't neglect regular maintenance. Periodically wind automatic watches to keep the movement lubricated and running smoothly. Consider servicing your Rolex every few years by a certified watchmaker.

Additional Tips for Storage

Store Separately

Avoid storing your Rolex alongside other jewelry or watches to prevent potential scratching or damage from contact.

Temperature Control

Maintain a consistent room temperature for storage, ideally between 50°F to 80°F (10°C to 27°C), to prevent thermal shock that can affect the watch's delicate components.

Use Protective Wraps

For additional protection during storage or travel, wrap your Rolex in a soft, lint-free cloth to prevent dust accumulation and minor abrasions. Lastly the Best way for your Rolex Storage is keep it in a safe Deposit Box

Conclusion

By following these meticulous storage practices, you can safeguard the pristine condition and value of your Rolex watch for years to come. Remember, proper storage is key to preserving the beauty and functionality of your cherished timepiece.

This comprehensive guide provides the essential steps to ensure your Rolex remains in optimal condition, surpassing the competition with expert advice on watch care and storage. Optimize your watch's longevity and value by implementing these best practices today.

[luci4theminorannoyance]

how the 141 boys would propose:

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

a/n: hey everyone!! Sorry for not posting for two days- I got busy with end of semester work! And of course per usual my writing is gender neutral since I wrote this w/o a request

Gaz:

-he would wait till your anniversary when he has off duty, taking to you someplace calm and quiet like a cafe or a pretty sight like a lake

-THIS MAN LOVES BEING ROMANTIC. He literally dropped on one knee with the black ring box in his hand in a smooth (and most definitely rehearsed for hours) motion

-his hands were secretly shaking out of nervousness the whole time, even when you said yes and he only calmed down when you kissed him and pulled him to his feet

ghost:

-not planned at all, as soon as he got off from a very tiring and almost failed mission he dashed to you off the plane back home. Back where he was safe in your arms.

-dropped down to his knees in front of the whole airport, not caring who saw or what people thought

-as soon as you said yes he hugged you tightly, kissing with lip’s crashing against yours: the adrenaline from everything not yet leaving his body

Price:

-he had lived with you and been with you for quite a while before proposing, he truly wanted it to be as warm and Casual as possible.

-he proposed at a slow dance that was for a celebration for one of his completed missions, it wasn’t a large party and it was mostly the task-force as well as friends and such

-he stopped the music silently, pulling you slightly away from the dance floor and slipping the ring onto your finger and watching your eyes go wide in surprise

-for the rest of the party he was smiling like a child who just got a new gift, and nobody knew but you and of course laswell because she’s the one who walked him through it beforehand

soap:

-most casual out of all of them, a simple getting down on one knee and proposing to you at home. Where he’s safe. Where he truly can express his love for you in full.

-of course he planned it, he’s a demolition expert after all! Although price almost hit soap with a book when soap explained his original idea of proposing

-the idea of course being to ask you with one of those rental add planes…

[beardedmrbean]

A young Australian family has returned home from an overseas holiday to find their house had been broken into by squatters - who made off with $45,000 worth of their personal items after completely destroying the home. 

Sanjay 'Jay' Kuikel, 32, had moved his family from Darwin to Shepparton, Victoria, in 2024 to work as a doctor, wanting a change of pace and a safer area to live in. 

After a brief stint in Shepparton Hospital's accommodation, the couple moved to a rental property with their three-year-old daughter and one-year-old son.

But after a four-week holiday back in their native Nepal, they returned on May 3 to find their home had not only been lived in but 'ransacked' by a stranger. 

'We came (back) at 7.30pm and it was dark and cold. When we opened the door, this guy was sitting there, smoking marijuana, eating pizza and watching TV,' he said.

'He said this was his house and he lives there.'

Mr Kuikel told Daily Mail Australia he was 'shocked and shaken', closing the door and taking his wife Nilima, 30, and their children to a neighbour.

'I immediately thought, "Who is this guy? Is he gonna attack us? Is he gonna attack my kids?" All of those horror feelings,' he said. 

Mr Kuikel rang the police and the man was arrested. 

'Police told me that there were 17 to 20 people coming in and out of that house every day,' Nilima told Channel 10. 

Knowing that, the family did not feel safe moving back into the house, so they persuaded the property owner to terminate their lease and they moved back into temporary hospital accommodation.

A video taken by Mr Kuikel of the damage showed clothes torn from wardrobes and strewn on the floor in three bedrooms.

There were also cigarette butts in the living room, a tub of medicinal cannabis flower in the kitchen and alcohol balanced on a high chair. 

He said jewellery, kitchen items and clothes had been stolen with a total estimated loss of $45,000 - despite there being three locks between the front door and the safe. 

'We had roughly 300 grams of gold (jewellery), about 100 (of which) was our wedding stuff and the rest was savings,' he said.

The junior doctor said in Nepalese culture it was common to buy jewellery for their children and wives that will also serve as an investment: 'That's all gone.'

The family had not been able to afford contents insurance or to store the jewellery in a safety deposit box due to the steep fees, Mr Kuikel said.

He said the break-in also had an emotional toll on his family, with his three-year-old daughter 'scared a stranger might come into this house'.

'I have to work in the evening, and sometimes on call... and it's not an easy feeling to leave my family by themselves,' he said. 

Mr Kuikel had returned to the property at least four times to recover what he could but alleged that the man was often still in the house.

He said the property owner changed the locks of the house, but the next day, the locks had been changed again, this time allegedly by the squatter.

Victoria Police told Daily Mail Australia officers attended the property on Balaclava Road, Shepparton, on May 3 and 'found the house to have been ransacked'.

A 47-year-old man of no fixed address was arrested and taken to the police station where he was later released. It is expected that he will be charged on summons.

Police said they are aware the man returned to the vicinity of the house on May 9 and 10, and he was subsequently arrested and charged with breaching an intervention order.

The man has been bailed and is due to appear at the Shepparton Magistrates Court on Friday. The investigation continues.

'Police acknowledge the ongoing issues with squatters and are working with residents and community services to improve the situation,' the statement said. 

Mr Kuikel has launched a GoFundMe page to raise $10,000 to replace essential items, help cover the cost of housing and ease the financial impact.

'Every contribution, no matter how small, helps us take a step toward rebuilding and healing,' he said. 

Daily Mail Australia has contacted Shepparton Real Estate and Victoria Police for comment.

[ultramarine-spirit]

Ultramarine's Ridibooks Guide

A (hopefully) simple guide to how to use Ridibooks!

What is Ridibooks? Ridibooks is a website where you can read all kinds of webtoons, novels, and books in Korean. It also has an app (for mobile and PC)! Ridibooks has the advange compared to other similar platforms such as Kakao and Naver of not being region-locked, so it might be your only option to read some manhwas in Korean.

Is the site safe? Yep! It's one of the major manhwa platforms, and I've used it many times.

How do I use it? Firstly, you have to make an account (top-right corner of your screen, 👤 icon). I recommend using Chrome or other browsers with a MTL function, so the page is easier for you to navigate.

Buying manhwas and novels. I'll use WMMAP as an example! Search 어느 날 공주가 되어버렸다 (WMMAP in Korean). You'll see you have 4 options. Buying the manhwa per chapter (200 won for rental, 500 won for purchase), buying the manhwa per volume (7,500 won each), buying the novel per volume (2,310 won for rental, 3,300 won for purchase), and buying the novel per chapter (100 won each).

Let's say we want to buy the manhwa per chapter.

Once you click on that option for purchase, you'll see that the site gives you two options, renting a chapter (200 won) or purchasing a chapter (500 won). Choose accordingly to what you want, but be aware that the site checks the rental option by default! So you have to go to the "keep it" tab if you want to buy it.

Also, consider that WMMAP's chapters can be unlocked for free (1 each day, available to read for 3 days), excluding the last 10 chapters.

Ridi Cash. As most manhwa platforms, Ridibooks has its own currency, Ridi Cash (much like Tapas' ink or Tappytoon's points), that you need to buy to then purchase manhwas or novels. It's worth almost the same as won, but with a 3% accumulation rate. Selecting the "Ridi Cash" option in your user profile will allow you to recharge the currency.

There, you can choose how much you want to charge. It's likely that the only payment method available to you is an overseas credit card (any should work), so you'll have to check that box (also remember to check the purchase confirmation!).

After that, you just write your credit card information, and you should be ready to buy your favorite manhwa or novel! They'll be available for you to read in your library (top-right corner of your screen, 📚 icon).

[moonrkgk]

♡moving fundraiser!♡

HI HI it's me, moon!!

I'm moving!! (very far, much travel) and im starting a little fundraiser for it!

I'll be streaming more frequently the coming weeks to prepare, so consider coming and giving moral support! Or maybe picking up a commission. I want to ensure that i can still finish my work while also having ENOUGH work to meet my goals!

Goal A is just having enough to support myself while im there. I plan on renting a room (hey if youre a furry that doesnt mind a super quiet roommate with no pets/kids/spouse let me know! Lol). This loosely translates to i want at least 2 months of the average rent ive found for myself under this condition (since i will still be able to work and i will start looking for a job immediately.)

Goal B is ensuring i have funds for a moving truck or car rental. I don't own much, so i can keep travel light! Unfortunately not light enough to take a flight, but enough that i wont have to rent a box truck which cuts down on costs! Goal C is making sure i can afford at least one overnight stay along the way. Since i will be making the trip alone, i will likely need to stop to sleep at least once. Ive driven quite a ways before, but never a full 20 hours.

My total goal is $2,000. This should cover all my costs and needs as well as a little padding in case of emergency.

If you'd like to send me a tip to help out, you can throw some into my buymeacoffee!

If youd like to commission me instead and get some sweeet art in return, keep an eye on my twitter! (Most of my art is NSFW so thats the only place i can safely and reliably post it! Sorry about that.)

You can message me on discord for any inquiries! @ MOONRKGK

Hopefully everything can fall into place smoothly and there isnt anything im not forseeing. Moving means work, walkability, and general stability that i cant find here. I havent been able to find work in several years, the minimum wage is low, and its a multiple hours walk to the nearest store. ( Brutal when its 110 outside or below freezing like it often is here! ) I have to make change happen in my life if i expect anything to get better, so im putting my all into this one!

Thank you for reading, and thank you for any support tossed my way.

[circle--of--confusion]

Wip Wednesday! 🎶🎸

80s Mall!Au with Copia and OC Erin.

In the snippet: Copia and Erin have a fun day together at a record store and then a movie rental shop. Unfortunately, they have some awkward company at one point

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Copia taps along to the music coming through the speakers as he pulls up to Erin’s driveway. He honks a few times and soon she’s stepping out of the front door to him. Smiling wider the closer she gets to Copia, Erin smoothly opens the door on the passenger side and gets in the car. The two share a small kiss before she moves to buckle.

He’s driving them to a record store, the first of what he has planned for them today. Copia grabs her hand to hold when he doesn’t need to use both hands on the wheel. He offered to change the cassette he had playing, a new Metallica album, but she waves him off saying its fine.

The record shop attendant nods at them as they walk in, tiling their head slightly at the differing looks. Erin’s dressed in a long skirt, t-shirt and a loose cardigan. Copia steps through in jeans, a metal band tee, and a simple leather jacket. She mentions it to him as they stroll the isles and he chuckles.

“I can’t believe you don’t have it.” Erin looks over the area for the band she needs. “It’s a classic.”

Copia shrugs, rubbing her hand with his thumb. “Must’ve passed me by.” He points somewhere. “Over here.”

Erin thumbs through the box and finds her prize. “Rumors by Fleetwood Mac. Listen to it, appreciate it’s glory.” She holds up her hand, fingers pinched together.

“Isn’t this the album that essentially broke up the band?” He looks over the song list. Copia holds up the cover to Erin and smirks. “Also, I’m sensing a theme here…”

“Ok, ok, I’m inspired by her style. Move on.” She grabs the record from him. “Where are you taking me? What genre are you enlightening me about today?”

Copia squeezes her hand. “Disco.” Erin laughs and he smiles. “I’m kidding. But disco is good! It never sucked, people were just weird and lacking whimsy.”

Copia didn’t have to go far for his album choice. "Love at First Sting" by the Scorpions will now be making its way home to Erin’s record collection. Copia takes the records and sets them onto the counter, paying for both. “His treat” he’d said and Erin gingerly kissed his cheek as a thanks, causing the cashier to snort at the blush forming on Copia’s face.

For a while they walk a bit up and down the street killing time by window shopping. Erin sees something in an antique shop so they go in to look around. He’s fiddling through a section with ornate spoons when she comes back to him holding a box with glee.

“I’ll show you when we get to your apartment.” Erin waves him off. She places the box into her bag and they join hands once more on their journey to the video store.

“What were you thinking? Are you going to let me show you a horror movie?” Copia teases as he opens the door for her.

Erin shakes her head adamantly. “Nope.”

He grins. “Worth a shot.”

The two look over the options and Copia keeps mentioning a horror movie every other title. Erin feels like he’s up to something with how incessant he is about it.

“Do you want me cowering into your arms? Hm? You want to swoop in to wrap me into your comforting and safe embrace.”

Copia’s eyes go wide and he puts a hand over his chest. “Baby, I have absolutely no ulterior motives.”

Erin rolls her eyes. “Right.”

With a movies chosen, "9-5" and the horror movie "Halloween" Copia’d somehow managed to convince her to watch, they move on to the snack bar for supplies. She asks him to hold her choices as she stops by the bathroom. He’s doing fine until he sees two of his co-workers walk in the shop to get a movie as well.

“Copia?” Dew calls from the front.

He nods towards them. “Hi, guys.” Go away now, Copia wishes.

Dew and Rain eye the bundle of goodies in his arms and Copia hopes desperately they don’t ask.

“What’s with the extra food?”

Goddamnit.

“Hold up, are we interfering with a date night?” Rain points at him.

Dew smirks, narrowing his eyes. “Are you hiding someone from us, Copia?” He looks around the store for a few seconds.

Erin’s coming back from the bathroom, heading to the snack area. She finds Copia has company. Members of Miasma type of company. Erin halts in her tracks and immediately turns 180 degrees to hide around on the other side of a row of thrillers. The irony.

“What makes you think I’m here with anyone?” Copia asks.

Rain tilts his head. “Two drinks, two types of snacks.”

“I wanted some variety tonight.”

The two eventually feel they’ve poked and prodded at him enough and Copia breathes a sigh of relief once they’re far enough away for Erin to come out of hiding. She delicately touches his hand once she gets back to him and he shrugs. He asks Erin to wait for him outside and she nods, walking out to stand against the wall near the door.

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Hope y'all enjoyed! I am in a weird funk with writing but I feel a slow spark building again so hopefully I can get this finished and published soon