#All Custom Boxes Wholesale

[allcustomboxesco]

[sixshotsinatumbllr]

Part 2 of rating Good Omens Characters on whether or not I would employ them in my IRL cafe

This was hella fun the first time, so I am going to keep doing it. Sorry, y'all along for the ride.

Muriel

I'd like to say yes. I'd really like to say yes. But whilst she has a wonderful personality for service, I think she just wouldn't have the skill set for the job. Maybe she's a quick learner? We'll trial her for a week and see.

Turns out that the customers love her, but she breaks a lot of cups.

Adam Young

Adam is such a solid, sensible young kid (apart from the whole being the AntiChrist thing, but he did a pretty awesome job with that one). He has great references from Uncle Aziraphale and Uncle Crowley. We'd give him a weekend job dishpigging and helping out with service. He's a good worker if a little vulnerable to conspiracy theorists when they come in (which is more often than you would expect).

Anathema Device

Let's be honest, Anathema is wealthy from the stock market. She's not going to be working in the hospitality industry. She does come in as a customer, and will always chat conspiracy theories with Adam. She recommends really good podcasts.

Eric

Eric would be on the weekends as well. He's employed for his style as much as anything, but is a great all rounder on busy days. I can see him in front of the coffee machine.

Lesley

He's the delivery driver for the food wholesalers AND HE'S A WHOLE LOT BETTER THAN OUR ACTUAL IRL DELIVERY MAN WHO PUTS BOXES IN THE DRY STORE SO RANDOMLY IT'S LIKE A TREASURE HUNT EVERY FUCKING DAY BUT THE TREASURE HUNT IS FOR INGREDIENTS WE NEED IN THE KITCHEN IMMEDIATELY.

Dagon

I have no idea why but Dagon gives me hella kitchenhand vibes. I reckon she's great with a knife, precise and efficient. She's the sweary kitchenhand in the back of the cafe making snarky sarcastic comments that none of the customers can hear but the staff can, and everyone loves working with Dagon.

Mrs Sandwich

Mrs Sandwich has just the right level of snark and personality for the job. She'd be the weekend service staffperson. She can handle the busy periods really well, never gets flustered and never lets the customers get at her either.

Madame Tracy

No, but we let her set up her tarot card table in the corner once a fortnight because she brings customers into the shop.

Shax

No, she presented well but then we soon realised she had no fucking idea what she was doing. She comes in for a long black with Furfur sometimes. We do appreciate her style, so we often give her a discount on her coffee (but not Furfur, which annoys him but he still won't stop turning up.)

[vernalseason]

Here's why I'm so goddamn feral about The Bear.

I ran an ice cream store for about five years. No, it wasn’t fine dining, it wasn’t even a restaurant, but it was still food service. We were in a vacation town, and our place was the only ice cream store in the area, and the ice cream was GOOD. Customers used to ask me all the time if I got sick of eating it and I’d say no, and I meant it. It was reasonably fancy as ice cream goes, with some pretty out-there flavors, but mostly it was just GOOD. Super flavorful, dense but not chewy the way that some ice creams get where it feels like it’s stretching unnaturally when you pull your spoon away…

Point is, it was an ice cream shop in a tourist town, and in the summer we got killed during service every single night. Nonstop lines from 7 til 12 or 1 in the morning, no breaks. We got after-dinner crowds, after-show crowds, hordes of camp kids a busload at a time, and it might not have been fine dining but we worked HARD. We had 8, 9, 10 people on peak days all scooping, cleaning, making milkshakes (which is The Worst, in case you were curious), restocking by running down rickety definitely-not-to-code stairs to our tiny walk-in and hauling ice cream up 4 boxes at a time—because goddamn it, time was valuable and running up and down the stairs sucked and no one was going to go down multiple times when you could just grab 4 at a time and grit your teeth and shove them onto the counter upstairs feeling like you’d just benched your own body weight.

At the start of the summer, Memorial Day weekend, we were at our absolute peak. Following a truly herculean hiring effort aided by the promise of unlimited free ice cream, we had a crew of 20-odd overcaffeinated teenagers and twentysomethings who were working a truly awe-inspiring pace to kill the line. My favorite moments were, variously:

Being so busy I had to run two registers simultaneously, waiting for Square to process a transaction on one (chip card readers were murderously slow in the early days) while taking cash on the other;

Absolutely shattering every store record on a Saturday night with a skeleton crew and getting approval to order 12AM pizza on the company card, and taking a long, long hour to eat before we finally had to get around to scrubbing the calcified ice cream off the floors;

Gearing up to call for a restock on spoons, napkins, and other such necessities only to find that my assistant manager was behind me with a milk crate of those very things;

And so on.

There was about a month and a half of beautiful, well-staffed, smooth-running time before things frayed at the edges. Suddenly the factory couldn't get enough ingredients, since the company was chronically broke (turns out wholesale ice cream is a bad idea, folks; retail is where it's at), or the store walk-in broke down and we had to resort to chest freezers for storage for a month, or, most commonly, we started losing staff. I was always after the owner of the company to hire more year-round full-time staff, but there was always something more urgent for him to spend money on, like rent. So inevitably our staff would start leaving for college, and we'd be left with about half to a third of the staff we really needed to run. Which is when things started getting bad.

There are only so many doubles you can work before you start losing your grip on reality. I recall one day in August when I was somehow, improbably, the only person available to fill an entire day of shifts, and worked from 9AM pre-open to 11PM at night. The only thing that I remember is that the tips were phenomenal. But by Labor Day weekend we were down to our last seasonal staff and the entire core crew had worked at least two doubles that week and we limped into the off season with about two remaining brain cells between us.

Anyway. This post was supposed to be about The Bear.

I've never seen a show—or at least, never seen a FICTIONAL show—that so deeply understands what it means to be in food service. I watched the first episode in absolute awe of how they captured the intensity—just GOING until you get a moment to yourself in the bathroom, in the walk-in, in the office. And when you slow down, you think about how tired you are. How burnt out. How much all you really want is just to sit, maybe eat a slice of pizza, and stare into space for an hour. But then you go back out, and you get back to work.

I've also never seen a show that so accurately captures what it looks like and feels like to be a manager. Carmy losing his temper, giving in to that righteous anger in 'Review'—how DARE you not cover your station, how DARE you leave me with this mess that you created—I've been there. I'm not proud of it. I didn't punch a ticket printer, or scream in anyone's face, but I lost my cool, and that sticks with me. You don't get to take it back. You apologize (even if you were right), you patch things up, but no one ever really forgets.

But the show also does justice to one of the great joys of the service industry: getting to see people improve. One of my favorite subplots is Tina going from sabotaging Sydney to respecting her, trusting her, defending her. But mostly, it's my favorite because we see her get BETTER. She goes from just holding down her station to being a pro, from throwing things together to being careful, and thoughtful, and focused. And that moment when Tina says 'thank you, chef', and means it, really MEANS it, that's the kind of thing that gets me all teary. Because it's so much more than just 'thank you', but you'd have spend a hell of a lot longer to get it all out.

I guess if I was going to trace my rabid and, so far undiminished love of the show to a single thing, it would be the fact that it makes me feel seen. I haven't done that much reading on the people who made the show, but enough of them clearly lived this life or got close enough to it that they understand what it does to people, and what it requires of them. I loved working in food service, and sometimes I even miss it. I loved getting to make people's days, to give kids their first-ever ice cream, to feel like people were leaving in a better mood than they came in. And I met my partners through this life, all three of them, which is as exactly as wild and improbable as it sounds. But every time I look back on it fondly, I make myself remember that it was miserable too. The late nights, the early mornings, the days off cut short by delivering emergency stock or jumping in to cover a shift or just ending back up at the shop out of habit. The crushed toes and ragged wrist tendons and hoarse throats, the constant phone calls or checking sales to try and anticipate if we needed more staff. The sensation that after service, the rest of the world was dim in comparison.

I sank so much time and energy into that life, and I think the last thing I love about The Bear, the other thing that makes me tear up a little bit, is that for them it turns out alright in the end. They work through the problems, they make things run smooth, and they get the chance to build the place they dreamed about. That was always what I wanted, what I was working toward—the chance to make things better. And even in fiction, it makes me happy to see that come true.

[writingsbychlo]

Hi!!! So ummm, in a modern au, what do you think each of the batboys would do for living?

hope you are ok<3

i am okay thank u <3

i ended up writing way more than i intended lol so i put it below the cut. this seriously made me want to write some modern!au stuff for them

rhys is a ceo of a company he inherited from his father. he’s spent years trying to make it clean and honest because when he got it there was so much bad politics and hate surrounding his company. his family were not popular at all. rich, but hated. he introduced fair wages, longer maternity leave, clean energy, charity galas, a lot of stuff. he’s now very popular about about 8 times richer because of it. a good sum of that money comes from interviews (where he says things like “I didn’t make improvements for the money, I did it because it’s right. the money doesn’t hurt though, now I can spoil my wife even more.”) and also brand deals because he’s hot and companies like to advertise through him. he gets a lot of fancy watches and custom suits.

azriel worked for rhys’ dad doing shady shit before he died and rhys inherited the company. when they were 13, at a sleepover, rhys dared az to try and hack his fathers company. he did. but he was caught. instead of reporting it rhys’ dad promised not to tell the cops if az signed a contract to work for him when he was 16. poor baby az did it because he didn’t want to get in trouble. the literal day after az’s 16th birthday he cashed that in and had az start hacking for him. which turned into ‘spying’ on business partners and reporting back what they’re doing and who they talk to online. which turned into paying them vaguely threatening visits when azriel had a growth spurt to 6ft5 and broad af at 17. by 18 azriel had definitely been forced to do some illegal shit way worse than hacking but couldn’t get out. he’d practically signed his life over. when rhys inherited the company at the ripe young age of 21, he made azriel watch as every single copy of that contract was shredded. then they took the shredder out into the garden and burned the whole pile of pieces. azriel cried. azriel also decided if he hadn’t had to drop straight out of highschool to work for rhys’ dad he’d have wanted to go to college. he wants to take law now, so nobody has to go through what he did and get stuck. rhys offers to pay for a top university for him. az refuses, he took online night classes for three years while working a low level job at rhys’ firm. he’s now a ‘private investigator’ for rhys and a ‘bounty hunter’ on the side. because sue him, he kinda likes scaring the bad guys, he just never likes hurting the good ones.

cassian owns a boxing gym funded by rhys. he didn’t know it was funded by rhys for a long time. he had ALWAYS had the dream, all through high school he always knew what he wanted to do and he told az and rhys constantly. it teaches self-defence and cool courses like sword fighting and archery and has kids clubs for martial arts at school times. it has women only evenings, it has a teens only evening, cassian always wanted everyone to have a safe space. he’d described it perfectly, and rhys had found him the perfect building for it. and bought the building. and had someone pretend to be a landlord to give him a really low rent agreement. and then also paid if cassian’s designers and decorators to give him low rates. and then bought him a whole load of equipment and said “i found a wholesaler. no you can’t see their website they don’t have one, it’s a CEO to CEO thing.” cassian only found out when visiting az at work one day and seeing all the legally documents in a “cassian” file in azriel’s usually locked desk drawer. rhys has az do the legal work for it. cassian was MAD at rhys. but also touched. but MAD. they had a big argument and he promised to pay rhys back, rhys refused to accept any of it. they argued some more. it ended with cassian getting rhys to increase the monthly rent he pays back and with rhys crying a little bit and clinging to cassian and saying “why can’t you just let me give you things? it’s not like I can’t afford it!”

side note; cassian says ‘I don’t see you forcing azriel to accept expensive gifts!’ to which azriel growls and says ‘he bought my apartment. building. because I said I thought rent was too steep for me back when I was working down a couple floors and going to college too, he refuses to let me pay him proper rent now.’

[yr-bed]

Robert Crumb's Devil Girl bars were an instant success when they hit the market in 1994. The bars themselves are long gone and any surviving bars are probably not edible. But Kitchen Sink Press marketed the chocolate bars in a sturdy display box modeled after the heavy-duty cigar boxes of earlier days. This display box is constructed of thick card stock nearly 1/8 inch thick on all 6 sides. Seven sides (including the inside lid) are covered by 4-color Crumb art. The inside lid was to be propped up by retailers to expose the 15 bars that were originally inside. It also revealed the slogan, "It's BAD for you!" ---a rare example of candor in advertising.

The honesty wasn't limited to the inner lid. Our favorite side (almost never seen by actual customers) is the bottom of the box. On that hidden side Crumb hand-lettered "A Word to Wholesalers and Retailers of the Devil Girl Choco-Bar," which is scanned here. It's a hilarious tongue-in-cheek anti-marketing statement. It certainly did nothing to deter sales of the product, which approached a half-million candy bars (not bad for a comic book company's sideline).

Devil Girl Choco Bars by R. Crumb

[fly-chicken]

TORONTO friends! My coworker introduced me to the cheapest produce box! All locally grown produce delivered right to your door. It’s a weekly or biweekly box so you basically always get whatever is in season rather than selecting specific items, I got my first one yesterday;

For 35$ TOTAL (after tax and shipping, right to my door in an apartment building too!) we got the following;

In it

-bag of onions

-bag of carrots

-7 apples

-bunch of bananas

-cucumber

-broccoli floret

-2 sweet potato

- 8 purple potatoes

-head of lettuce

-jar of honey from local bees (beekeepers are also unionized; bonus local honey helps increase antibodies to the local pollen, lessening spring allergies too!)

-loaf of bread made from repurposed barley (barley was used for beer, local baker reuse it to make sourdough)

Notice the limited packaging too! I’ve repurposed the box into a cat hideout too! Such a better deal than getting it all at the store and since it’s all local farmers, you also reduce the transport costs and fuel to ship as well.

The box is called FoodShare and the link is below. This isn’t a paid advertisement, I’m just genuinely flabbergasted that more people don’t know this exists since it’s such a steal and for good local produce.

[rohanlucas]

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[mercurygray]

I'm getting my ao3 account soon and I was wondering if there is a feature that blocks tags and therefore hides posts like we have here on Tumblr? There is some sus content that I really do not want to see on there

First off - congrats, Kind Anonymous Friend! AO3 is a wonderful tool for fandom and it is to be commended that you are joining that experience AND taking some responsibility for what you see and what you don't see! The first step to having a good time is figuring out how to control what you can control. (Let's call it 'content I really do not want to see' rather than 'sus', though. Just to be fair.)

There are several ways you can filter content on AO3 - some of them are big and some are small.

On the site itself, you can use the Search feature, and the filters along the righthand side of the screen, to restrict what kind of content gets returned when you look for something. For instance, if I only want to see Marvel fanfics with Steve and Peggy as a pairing, I can use the filter in the sidebar for 'Relationships' and select the Steve and Peggy tag to only see fics with that pairing tagged. If I do NOT want to see anything with that pairing, I can also use the 'exclude' section right below it. These get reset every time you do a search, so if you really don't want to read about {x} on a given day, you can filter it out!

If you'd rather not think about what you do and don't want to see all the time, I have several browser extensions installed on my laptop that always filter some things that I never want to see. Instructions and explanations below the cut!

To manage browser extensions and custom scripts, you'll need something like Tampermonkey installed on your browser. (I use a Chrome-based browser, Brave, but I believe it works with Mozilla also.) If you're not familiar with Tampermonkey, there's a nice tutorial here. (Disclaimer: I'm not sure if said extensions would work in a mobile browser on a phone...)

One of these is saxamaphone's AO3 Review + Last Chapter Shortcut + Kudos-sortable Bookmarks, which adds a shortcut to skip to the last chapter of a fic and some nice sorting features.

The other is Schegge's AO3 Fic Style, Blacklist, Bookmarks extension, which I think will work very well for what you're describing here.

Once the extension is installed, you'll get a nice little option in the toolbar at the top of the site for your blacklist:

(That's a small section of mine right there - I'm only sharing to give an idea of how it works, not to shame anybody.) You'll notice the tool also has some options for not showing works with too many fandoms tagged, with too many tags, with too many words - it's very versatile and easy to update.

You can also chose to filter them out wholesale or show the reason for why it's not being displayed - if you do use 'show reasons' you'll get a nice little box in your search results that shows the title of the fic and why it's not shown, so you could opt in if you wanted to!

I always like to note that filter systems are only as good as the people who participate in the system. Someone may chose not to tag - or be unaware that other people will want to filter something like that out! Unfortunately, there's not much you can do about this as a reader except to close the fic in question, and perhaps add that author to your blacklist. You could try kindly and gently reaching out to ask an author to add a particular tag, but I'm not sure how much action you'd get on that.

I also love all the work that @ao3commentoftheday does in their 'how to ao3' tag here on tumblr. There are lots of helpful comments and suggestions about how to use the site both as a writer and a reader!

Best of luck, Kind Anonymous Friend! Happy reading!

[soft-humming-moon]

THE SUMMARY OF DANI TORIMOSA

Work was exhausting. Every weekday starts before the sun rises and ends just as the natural light of the world fades upon the city. Most of my hours bleed away within the confines of a wholesale warehouse where I move boxes and direct customers and retailers alike. Nothing new happens within the scaffold-like walls, and sometimes I like it this way.

Personally, there’s a sort of satisfaction I get from the long hours. While my lineage prides itself on the inheritance of their hardly-working ancestors, I’ve broken that in a plea for satisfaction. Don’t get me wrong—I haven’t shunned myself from their generosity. I’d much rather gather my worth as a man by my own hands than what was provided to me. However, my name, Danilo, remains a part of me granted by my heritage.

Normal—love this town. Everyone here prides themselves on the extraordinary fact that nothing differs in this town. Once, this town was named Celeste—based on the founder of the city. Of course, this recently changed in favor of a surprisingly active tourism scene. Traps and attractions all surrounding the novelty of normality sell themselves as a getaway to the towns around them. I mean, I can’t blame them. Where else would I go to get away from it all when there’s a federal-enforced barricade around the Penumbran Strip.

The roads are packed most of the time. I remember nearly fifteen years ago when the roads were newly paved with asphalt. The procedure was slow and methodical. My father once told me about a time in the town’s history when dirt roads snaked through the town to small grocery stores and underfunded amenities. Now, this place is different. Sometimes I envy my father for living in his time. Yet, it’s hard to place if my envy is on a cause of these roads or for something greater.

I hear an onslaught of chatter among coworkers and customers alike in my hours. Some customers drive all the way to Normal due to the price of the goods. Why spend your money in a grocery store barely surviving against the town’s mandated horror than to spend it in bulk in a town known for its relative paradise? This process of thought feels rational, yet I can’t help but shake the thought of inevitable instability. At what point will this town remain as the only habitable location?

I can relate to the pride the residents share with this town. Imagine waking up one day and learning the rest of the now-called “Strip” was affected with this mysterious affliction—and you weren’t. You would assume you just won the lottery. Fate and divine alike marked an unfathomable amount of men to a newly created Hell in America and here you are—a blindspot in its wrath. At the end of the day, all of this clamoring reduces itself to a game of superiority. “Fate favors the wealthy”; a phrase which many men place upon this town. God bless it.

This town has yet to be hit by the suburban plague. The lack of an infrastructure and a desire has left most of the towns within the strip as immune. Yet, plagues mutate. Idle conversations and local news segments discuss the benefit of suburban neighborhoods. We have the budget—they state—we can support a project like this. I can’t wait to imagine how they pull it off.

In the meantime, I’ll spend the foreseeable future in my small one-story house nestled in the haphazard sprawl of individualized homes. The exterior is nothing to write home about—bland colored walls with windows closed off from the inside. A mailbox awaits at the edge of the concrete driveway, leading to a garage where I park my two-seater car within the protection of the elements. Once I shade my only vehicle within the garage, the bulky, metallic door slides down to hide it away from the sins of the world.

Waiting in the small fridge next to the entrance to my house is a set of carbonated beverages ready to grab from a brightly-colored box. With my canned drink in hand, I snap open the thin cover to release a swarm of bubbles to the top of my drink. I wasn’t expecting much to change with the house—why should it? But, there’s always a nagging feeling that something should change. The same routine of unwinding from a long day at work.

Yet, nothing would change. The house remains in one piece. I can hear the distant noise of the television’s broadcast from the living room all the way from the exit from the garage. If there’s any type of noise in the house, then my roommate, Dani, is asleep. The inverse to this observation is true, as well. With this information, you can infer how unsurprised I was when I found her asleep on the couch.

It’s hard to summarize who Dani is through a brief synopsis. Firstly, she’s my roommate. The summary could end there. However, there’s a lot more to her that provokes some further explanation. The reason she’s my roommate is through the efforts of my cousin, Laque. Those two have been friends ever since elementary school; they’ve been through thick and thin. When he proposed the idea to me, I never really understood where he was getting at. Out of all of the people, why me? Why not let her live in the mansion if you believe it so?

Of course, this was Laque. Sometimes, he has a hunch on certain ideas and insists it’ll work out in the end. I don’t think I’ve seen a premonition of his that hasn’t worked well. That, or he really wanted to see us get along well because of our similar names.

Secondly, Dani has an unusual connection to everything outside of this town. She’s developed a name for herself as a “persona”. Which, subjectively, I don’t particularly care about. If anything, I’m a little envious on how her prospects online pays better than my grueling full-time job. At some points, she’s offered to cover some of my expenses so I can work a part-time job. I’ve declined this, of course. It feels like she’s a projection of my family—some distant relative that’s still influenced by their arcane touch.

Thirdly, she has no sense of fashion or anything beyond basic hygiene. Thankfully, she showers often enough. From what I’ve last checked, her pointed teeth are whiter than my own. Her dirtied brown hair throws itself into a cacophony of shapes, yet it all remains unnaturally curly. All of her clothes are a mixture of white t-shirts, some sweatpants and an occasional jacket or two. From her minimalist wardrobe, there’s this style to her that would allow her to fit in to the slums of a metropolitan city.

Her favorite shirts—above all—are esoteric in-jokes involving unfathomable words. She tells me they’re all designed by her friends. It’s nice—I adore the charm—but it feels too “avant-garde” for me. Most of these shirts are covered by an orange hoodie whenever she goes outside, so I don’t believe most of the town sees the shirt’s displays.

Fourthly—and most distressing—Dani’s very touchy. If there was any indication of heritage, it would be her nonverbal body language. She always reaches over for hugs when she’s happy. She always wants a high-five for something that excites her. It’s strange, really. I’ve hailed from a family where contact between each other was kept for situations where it couldn’t be avoided. With her, it’s a completely different approach.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate how she displays herself. It’s always an aspect of her that catches me off guard. Over the time we’ve spent together as roommates, we’ve kind of bonded together more of friends if anything. She always indulges about her life with me—what she does and the history behind it all. Admittedly, I don’t have much to share back. It’s nice to sit down and listen, though. I’ve grown to enjoy the simple act of mildly caring for her. Not in a familial way, but something that draws compassion from somewhere I never knew was there to begin with.

When she first moved in, I was a little concerned with the adamant usage of blackout curtains. Every window in the house has a set of its own, and she always draws them shut around 4 pm. She told me I could open them whenever I wanted, but she couldn’t be in the same room.

Over the years, these little things compounded on themselves in a noticeable pattern. The next idea that struck me odd was her sharp teeth. Once, we were both in the bathroom cleaning it out and she briefly stopped to check her teeth in the mirror. At the time, I didn’t think much of it. Though this small detail slightly compounded.

Eventually, I realized how much she cared about eating meat. Dani had these specific preferences towards individualized brands, and there’d never be a deficit of any sort no matter the time of day. Alongside this, she always sleeps in her bed in a curled-up position. Obviously, the television inside her room would play a documentary of various subjects to keep her asleep.

It all compounded—the distaste for the night, the limited social gatherings, among others. Personally, I didn’t care. I’d be an ass of a person if I disliked how a functional adult lived their life. Over the months, I’ve debated with myself if I should even confront her about it. Especially now, she was very secretive about her external life. In contrast to her tendency to divulge every last detail of herself, it was the complete opposite when she first moved in.

One night, while we were both situated on the couch in the living room, I found myself unable to keep my eyes open while watching a familiar rerun of one of our favorite cartoons. As I sat myself up from the couch and yawned, I could hear Dani stuttering with her words for a little bit before sitting me down.

She disclosed the fact that she’s been meaning to tell me something for months. Dani planned out all of the reactions to what she was about to say—with her tidied bags, I admittedly thought she was going to move out soon and this was the heads up. But, she would bring up a question which completely blindsided me, “Do you know how each town has its own curse?”

I remember how puzzled I was at the question. Over the next minute, I thought of all of the curses each town had and how our town—Normal—was devoid of it. Within her shaking body and pre-planned words, Dani spoke about how she was the curse and how no one else in the town ever knew about it. The sharp teeth, hatred for the night, the fixation on meat—I was surprised how I didn’t catch on earlier. Fifthly, she was a werewolf.

In the moment, the information was a lot for me to process. While it had certainly replaced my views on this town and its stature, it would slowly dawn on me how significant the concealment of her secret would be. What if the town knew? They’d certainly ostracize her. Or worse, kill her. The damage she could cause on the town’s reputation was a palpable feeling, and it was clearly something on her mind behind her warm tears.

I couldn’t find myself sleeping that night. The next morning, I crammed as many caffeinated beverages within my system as my body could allow. But, throughout the night, I stayed awake to comfort Dani. With a blanket wrapped around her body and a box of tissues nearby, I could only assume this was what Laque meant when he wanted us to live together.

[sharonsparda]

Boxed Flower Projects

An ongoing botanical industry trendy expression is "boxed flower program". This alludes to the act of offering flowers to the shopper in a container, regularly through this website circulation channels other than the conventional retail florist. A few boxed flowers come directly from growers, some come from order satisfaction focuses. In all cases, the flowers are delivered by a cargo service like Took care of ex.

Enormous players in the boxed flower program game are Proflowers, Growers Flowers, Flowers by Martha, and, maybe shockingly, FTD.

Customary florists and the organizations that help them, like conventional wholesale florists, are legitimately worried about the opposition they are receiving from merchants who sell flowers along these lines. They are additionally worried about the impact these flowers are having on the shopper flower market's view of significant worth.

That's what the trepidation is if unsatisfactory quality flowers and botanical services are being sold, the general interest for flowers will fall; that the boxed flower programs are giving flowers in everyday a terrible name. As per a FTD customer review, florists accept that buyers who receive enclosed flowers are disheartened the quality, cost and service. However, shoppers posed similar inquiries answer predominantly that they are more than happy with their flower purchasing and receiving experience through boxed flower programs.

Maybe, the florists are answering great science that shows that the absolute most significant calculate delaying the eventual jar life of flowers is the virus chain. At the end of the day, flowers kept cold from present gather on home will perform best. In boxed flower programs, flowers leave the homestead or order satisfaction focus through a transportation organization that doesn't have refrigeration. Flowers are for the most part out of the virus for 24 hours prior to arriving at the recipient. I would provoke florists to consider what number hours their flowers are out of the virus chain before the shopper receives them. Do their flowers sit in containers in their plan room? Do finished game plans sit in the carport ready to be delivered? Are their delivery vans, and the delivery vans of their providers refrigerated?

My statement flowers delivered in boxes and flowers delivered by florists have equivalent possibilities of good execution, gave everything works out positively at each stop along the circulation channel from ranch to home. Colossal exertion and pride is taken in the legitimate care and handling of flowers in the botanical business, however the more hands handling the flowers en route, the more opportunity there is for a break in the chain.

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

Destiel Month, 22 Nov.: Case

Unlike Kevin, who'd left part-time glory for grad school a couple of months ago, the new delivery man moved a little slowly. 

deancas ust, bookshop au + human cas + real baby jack

Unlike Kevin, who'd left part-time glory for grad school a couple of months ago, the new delivery man moved a little slowly. While a customer counted coins for the used book she was purchasing, Castiel observed the delivery man from the register at the other side of the shop, and noted the man's uneven gait, which was not so much a limp as a hesitation, like he was still getting used to walking without help. 

The wardrobe was interesting too. Some of the national delivery services made their employees wear uniforms, but Ellen didn't bother with that sort of thing. Her laborers were probably being paid under the table anyway. The way she trafficked perishable goods and her general attitude gave the impression that it would be best not to think too hard about how and why she was willing to sell at such, ahem, reasonable, lower than wholesale prices.

New delivery man, despite the limp, seemed more than capable of lifting heavy boxes and placing them safely on the table by the shop's back door: namely, a child-sized box of raw sugar packets and two cases of something that sloshed, likely shelf-stable milk, if this was Castiel's standing third week of the month order. At the moment, the delivery man's arms distracted him, as the rolled up flannel sleeves showed off sinewy strength and freckles, and, on one arm from wrist to elbow, a long, uneven splotch of dark pink. 

A recent second-degree burn, Castiel thought, and realized he might know this particular delivery man, if only by reputation.

Mrs. Applebaum achieved the thirty seven cents she'd been digging in her purse for. "My apologies for the wait," she said, handing over the dimes and pennies.

"Not a problem," Castiel said, sliding her copy of Mystifying Mushrooms and How to Cook with Them across the counter.

When she'd rolled herself through the front door, Castiel went to check on the delivery man. "Need any help?" he said, the words fading out of his mouth as the man's bottle green eyes caught his. 

They stood there looking at each other for a startled, suspended moment. The man let the last case thump onto the table a bit roughly, and then blinked.

"Oh, sorry. Sorry." He steadied the box. "Should be okay."

"It'll be fine," Castiel said. "I'm–"

"You're Castiel?" Dean interrupted. The freckles on his cheeks were emphasized by the flush that had sprung across his face. He cleared his throat. "Ellen sent me."

"I figured." Castiel held out a hand. "And you're Dean."

"Yes." Dean shook his hand firmly. "We haven't met before, have we?"

"No, I…" Castiel paused. "Overheard Kevin talking to someone on the phone about you once, a few weeks ago."

Dean smiled and looked at the floor. "He's a total nerd. We miss having him around."

The fondness in his voice made Castiel almost smile too. "He was always prompt with deliveries." He waited until Dean looked back up to say, "It sounds like you've made a very encouraging recovery thus far."

Dean's eyes shifted away. "Yeah. It's been going all right." He gave a small shrug. "I'm lucky to have good doctors and everything."

The light that had dimmed in his eyes made Castiel's chest ache. "Will you go back to firefighting when you're cleared to?"

"No." Dean sighed. "I could pursue teaching at the training academy. And I might, but. Not for a while, if ever. Helping out Ellen's enough for the time being."

"I know firefighters know the risks, and you were brave to take them; it must still be very hard to have this sort of thing happen," Castiel said. 

Dean's expression – well, the only word Castiel had for it was gobsmacked, though that couldn't be right. Had a dozen other people not said to him exactly what Castiel had just said?

"Would you like a tour of the store?" Castiel asked, because he couldn't think of another way to lighten the mood; and because he wanted Dean to stay just a while longer.

Oh, there. He'd surprised Dean again, but this time it provoked a shy smile and another lingering gaze. Dean nodded, after a few more seconds.

They walked together, leisurely, chitchatting, through the small shop, taking Castiel's usual path from the built-in shelves of history and science to the freestanding bookcases crammed with novels and poetry; to the children's corner with its low, colorful bins and several refurbished beanbags; to the bookshelves for nature, art, cookbooks, and biographies; to the counter with the cash register and coffee pots, the electric kettle for tea water, and two dozen well used, clean dishes, as well as a glass cake plate holding, this week, a dark chocolate and raspberry layer cake made by someone Ellen bought from.

"I recognize that cake," Dean remarked.

"You must've seen it before I picked it up yesterday." The rich, decadent scent of it had permeated Castiel's car in a way he hoped would never fade.

"Well, yeah. I baked it." Dean tipped his head wryly.

"It's the best cake I've ever tasted," Castiel blurted out. His cheeks went warm as he heard his own voice's volume. More quietly, he said, "I'd pay twice as much as you're charging."

Dean ducked his head. "I'll keep that in mind. And, um. Thanks, Cas."

Castiel had been given a number of nicknames over the years, all of which he'd loathed (even if he'd tolerated his brother's good-natured Cassie as best he could); this one from Dean…he liked.

"Your shop's great," Dean said. "I'll have to come back and buy something to read soon." He did a short double take when he spotted the framed photo by the register. 

"That's Jack," Cas said, pointing at the swaddled newborn in his arms. "He's almost six months old now."

"You adopted him after his mom died." Dean's soft voice sounded awed. Off of what was surely shock on Cas's face, he said, "I've heard Ellen talk about you too. I'm sorry for your loss."

Cas's throat had to open again before he could say anything, but it finally did. "Thank you." He swallowed. "You should come back when you have more time to browse the stacks."

"I will." Dean's eyes were kind. He glanced at the clock on the wall and blanched. "Shit, I'm late to empty out the rest of the truck." He hurried, in a somewhat lopsided way, to the back door again and looked back. "Good to meet you, Cas."

"You too." Cas waved, and then Dean was gone.

Cas leaned against the counter and listened to the clock tick. After a few minutes, he shivered and made himself go unpack the deliveries.

-

"Are those delicious?" Cas asked Jack the next morning. "Are those the tastiest fingers ever?"

The baby half grinned at him and kept gnawing on his own fist. A blob of drool dripped onto his chin and Cas wiped it up with a napkin. Jack kicked out his chubby legs and made his bouncy chair bobble. He had just started his usual pre-lunch gossip babble as the bells on the front door jingled.

"Hold that thought," Cas told him and turned to see if his customer needed any assistance.

"I've heard," the customer in question said as he came, a little slowly, up to the counter, "that you sell slices of decent chocolate cake."

"Hello, Dean," Cas said.

[i-cast-teatus-deletus]

I'm not precisely sure when online shops in the United States universally, seemingly overnight, all went to "you can't buy syringes without giving us a prescription." I assume the government was involved (and possibly also a stock control thing?) but it was deeply jarring to someone who remembers The Old Internet.

If you're injecting HRT and live in the States, you have probably already heard of Allegro, one of the few legit sites that will sell needles/syringes without a script. It's actually how my household came across them, in fact. There was an issue in getting the right size needle from the pharmacy, and they asked their friend network for advice.

Allegro is more than just syringes, though (and not even just syringes for injection!). They have a lot of home health products, including ostomy and wound care supplies. I'm not 100% sure how their prices stack up against most retail places (I don't spend a lot of time looking at customer-facing retail prices of home care supplies) but I suspect they are fairly competitive, even against big box stores. Even if they're higher, Allegro is nearly always running sales or shipping discounts.

Having bought from them in the past, I've been pleasantly surprised each time how fast things show up, even if the order is small. A lot of places anymore, it feels like if you're not willing to spend at least $150 on an order, you get whatever shipping timetable you get. Allegro's orders have shown up extremely fast (typically 2-3 days for us and we're not in a big city), even when the entire order was a box of 25g needles.

[primitiveaudio]

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[nenusia]

LISTA TŁUMACZEŃ

╔ atillathesim

⌑ Pregnancy Moods

╔ Basemental

⌑ Basemental Alkohol ⌑ Basemental Drugs ( Public i Patreon) ⌑ Basemental Gangs

╔ Bosselady TV

⌑ Bedtime!

⌑ Child Aspirations Bundle

⌑ Follow Me Mod

⌑ Hang On Mod

⌑ Illness Traits Bundle

⌑ Wait Here Mod

⌑ Wake Up Mod

╔ Chipped`s Creation Corner

⌑ Ghastly Ghosts

⌑ Lively Towns

╔ Icemunmun

⌑ Instacup Flask

⌑ Instaplate Lunch Box

╔ JellyPaws

⌑Family Life Mod (melunn)

⌑ Social Intereactions Plus

⌑Be Yourself Mod (melunn)

╔ KiaraSims4Mods

⌑Royal Family Mod ⌑Royal Gigs Carrer

⌑Work Interactions Pie Menu

▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬

⌑ KiaraSims4Mods Aspirations

⌑All-Rounder Aspiration

⌑Dancer Aspiration

⌑Military Hero Aspiration

⌑Wellness Aspiration

▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬

⌑ KiaraSims4Mods Romance Interactions

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⌑Do you love me?

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▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬

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⌑Ballet Club

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⌑Marching Band

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⌑Yearbook Club

▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬

⌑ KiaraSims4Mods Traits

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╔ Lily-Valley

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╔ LittleMsSam

⌑Advanced Birth Certificate

⌑ More Buyable Venues and new Venue Types

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╔ Lumpinou

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⌑ Child Aspiration

╔ Ozzy Sims

⌑ Functional Iron Board, Cutting table, Steamer, wholesale supplies restock

⌑ SIMS4 OBSESSIVE TEEN MOD

╔ Ravasheen

⌑Cup of Cozy Drink Kit ⌑Ken You Not Dollhouses

⌑Little Chef’s Toy Kitchen

⌑Trash Talk Recycler

╔ Rex

⌑ Custom After School Activity Basketball

╔ SayHeyyyMsZoey

⌑ F**K Work - Social Mod

╔ Serra (xosdr)

⌑Mood Override

╔ Snowiii95

⌑Autistic Disorder Trait ⌑ Pakiet Cech

╔ SrslySims

⌑ Fabricator as Woodworking

╔Turbodriver

⌑WickedWhims

╔ TitanoNano

⌑Control Any Sim

╔ WICKED PIXXEL

⌑ MOD LOWLIFE LOSERS

╔ xbrettface

⌑ Baker Trait

╔ YourFalseHope

⌑ Book Therapy Session

⌑ Spa & Wellness Rabbitholes

╔ Zero

⌑ BFM-MBTI Personalities

⌑ EL - N.A.Ps Overhaul

╔ SIMS 2

⌑ACR

[idealcustomboxes-blog]

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