#Printed Soap Boxes

[custompackagingboxes]

Custom Retail Product Boxes Value and Worth

The client is going to feel if the one wrapping has all the correct features and allure, there is no point in going through numerous other goods. That said, the state can be the complete reverse if it doesn’t have the correct appeal. When packaging doesn’t have the correct appeal, the products lose their charm and elegance. The clients will never want to purchase such a dull item. Often clients will want the products with a packaging that is well-intentioned or gifting deprived of any additional decorations or demands. But when your Product Boxes itself is grey and boring, forget about gifts; the goods will not be worth buying for the customers.

Product Boxes are Free from all Damages

Because as they appear at the wrapping, they feel sick to their stomach. So, the packaging ropes that much of their happiness and cheer of spending. Brands recognize they cannot keep their goods with them after engineering and wrapping them up. They want to send these to their endpoint, which means delivery to diverse places near or far. Well, seeing that, with this much wandering, the packaging needs to be robust and reliable. Since if the packaging isn’t robust, the products will be at countless risks of getting hurt. Retain in mind clients immediately cast-off goods that are not in their faultless condition. Retail Boxes are always in perfect condition.

Custom Packaging are Stylish and Trendy

Therefore, if your goods are not attainment the places in one piece, the clients will not only reject them. But will direct these unusable goods back to you. Confidently, they will name and disgrace you. And the world will not need to purchase from a product offering below-quality goods that turn up broken or bent. When you do not twig to the ongoing tendencies, the clients will not be much attentive to your products. The clients want Custom Packaging Boxes that are exhilarating, chic, and fashionable. They want somewhat that says fashion out loud.

Packaging with Logo are Safe for the Environment

Packaging that is ancient and out-of-date will not demand them at all. So, if you put up something that is ancient and boring in front of the creation, you will mislay both sales and the clients. They will not want to buy their items in unattractive and dull packaging that can almost ruin their whole spending experience. So, you want to make sure you are presenting them with something that is fashionable and exciting. You must retain in mind one vital factor. The clients already know those Packaging with Logo options that are not twisted from green materials will always cause harm and risk to the earth.

Soap Boxes are Great and Green Products

These are the selections that are causing the earth a countless deal of damage. For this aim, they are after the product that they are successful in finding in Eco-friendly packaging. They won’t get gainful a bit over if they have to or drive with packaging with a less beautiful design. But they just do not need to buy an item that is in a wrapping that is non-disposable or non-recyclable. So, if you want the clients to purchase your items, you want to use these Soap Boxes. When you do, you will understand the way the clients come running for your things.

Soap Packaging are Vital for Famous Brands

Are you among those products that think it is okay not to have boxes for their goods? Are you the one that thinks your goods will be capable of doing just fine, deprived of packaging? If yes, then you certainly need to review the way you are thinking. Soap Packaging are quite a vital thing for brands and industries. And without these choices, their survival may be problematic. One day, you are finally going to end up closing the doors of your business. If you are inquisitive about how you will not be capable of surviving, then endure reading to find out.

The Desirability of Boxes for Soaps

The products may cost a fortune for industrial, but they won’t have the demand and charm on their own as they may if you have them in boxes. The thing is, some goods are far too humble or simple to look good-looking. They want something to elevate their worth and appearance. In additional words, they want the assistance of wrapping to make the world understand their worth and value. For this aim, the packaging is there to lift the goods to new levels of appeal and desirability. The Boxes for Soaps are there to create the customers to purchase these items.

[custompackagingblogsau]

Taking a Lighthearted Look at the World of Public Platforms while Standing Tall atop Soap Boxes

The soap box is a little but powerful prop that has been used in many speeches, tirades, and impassioned pronouncements in the context of daily life. This simple wooden platform may not be as elegant as a podium, but for people with a lot to say and a small audience, it has shown to be a reliable ally when it comes to self-expression.

The Soap Box's Ascent

Once upon a time, in the busy streets of bygone days, custom soap boxes served a purpose beyond just holding detergent; they were a pass to the tradition known as soapbox oratory, which provided a voice to anybody with an opinion and a strong set of vocal chords. Imagine the following scene: a busy marketplace with people bargaining over prices, and in the middle of it all, someone perched on a soap boxes Brisbane, ready to share their opinions like a hyperbolic pint-pourer.

Dishes to Conversations

Have you ever pondered why these spontaneous monologues started to happen on Soap boxes Canberra? As it happens, these wooden marvels were the hidden heroes of the grocery store—sturdy, easily accessible, and great for promoting not only the benefits of soap but also the vocal prowess of the average person.

Thus, bear in mind that the next time you're doing the dishes and contemplating that empty soap boxes Hobart, you're cradling a possible platform for your very own stand-up performance, not simply a piece of packaging.

The Soap Box Speech: An Art Form

Writing a speech for a soap box is an art form in and of itself. A certain amount of humor, passion, and verbosity must be balanced in order to keep the listener interested. Similar to a verbal tap dance, the artist must watch out for stepping on audience members' toes and hope they don't hurl tomatoes.

Imagine it like a TED Talk, only on a more accessible and affordable platform, and with a greater likelihood of running into a pigeon audience criticism.

Soap Boxes in the Modern Era

In today's digital age, where everyone has a smartphone and a platform to voice their opinions, the physical soap box Melbourne might seem like a relic of the past. However, don't be too quick to dismiss its charm. The virtual soap box is alive and well, with social media platforms serving as the new-age equivalent.

Scroll through your Twitter feed, and you'll find virtual soap boxes Adelaide aplenty, where people passionately discuss everything from the meaning of life to the proper way to eat a taco. Who knew 280 characters could hold so much wisdom (or chaos)?

Soap Box Chronicles: Tales from the Streets

Let's take a moment to appreciate the unsung heroes who elevated the soap box from a mere packaging accessory to a symbol of free speech. In the annals of soap box history, there are legends of impassioned rants, heartfelt declarations, and, of course, a fair share of comedic blunders.

Imagine a passionate speaker making a grand point, only to have their soap box collapse beneath them, turning their eloquent speech into an unintentional pratfall.

Soap Boxes Come Together: The Social Aspect

The power of the soap box to unite communities as well as elevate a single voice is what makes it so beautiful. Street corners became impromptu debate clubs, and soap box speakers were the unsolicited philosophers of the people.

It's like a town hall meeting, but with less bureaucracy and more chance of someone selling artisanal honey on the side.

DIY Soap Box: Crafting Your Soapbox Legacy

Feeling inspired to join the ranks of soap box orators? Fear not, for crafting your very own soap box is as easy as convincing your cat to take a bath (and we all know how simple that is).

Step 1: Acquire a Box

Find a sturdy box – preferably one that held something interesting, like a shipment of exotic fruits or a collection of rubber duckies. Keep in mind that the box already tells a tale before you do.

Step 2: Reinforce the Structure

No one wants a soap box collapse mid-sentence. Reinforce the corners with tape or, if you're feeling particularly handy, duct tape. Because nothing says "I'm serious about my opinions" like the universal fix-all.

Step 3: Add Personality

This is your soap box, not just a soap box. Decorate it with stickers, paint, or glitter – whatever screams "you." After all, if you're going to stand on a soap box, you might as well do it in style.

The Soap Box Legacy Continues

As we bask in the glory of the soap box legacy, let's appreciate the simplicity of this unassuming stage. These platforms—from the virtual soap boxes Perth of today to the streets of the past—remain a monument to the human desire for connection, expression, and the odd laugh.

So, the next time you find yourself on a verbal tangent about the merits of pineapple on pizza or the proper way to fold socks, just remember – you're not alone. You're simply carrying on the time-honored tradition of standing tall on a soap box, making the world laugh, think, and maybe reconsider their sock-folding technique.

[jameslizardo]

How to Find Cost-Effective Soap Boxes Wholesale Suppliers

Elevate Your Brand without Breaking the Bank

In the competitive world of handmade soaps, captivating packaging can be the difference between a forgotten bar on the shelf and a treasured gift in someone's bathroom. But while beautiful custom soap boxes can elevate your brand, the cost can become a slippery bar of worry. So, how do you find Soap Boxes Wholesale suppliers that offer budget-friendly solutions without sacrificing quality or branding? Don't lather yourself in stress; dive into these effective tips and discover the perfect Custom Soap Boxes partner for your handmade sudsy creations.

Know Your Needs Before You Sift Through Soap Box Suppliers:

Before you embark on your Soap Boxes Wholesale quest, take a moment to map out your packaging needs. Consider:

Soap Size and Shape: Will your boxes house petite guest soaps or luxurious bath bars? Are they round, square, or delightfully quirky shapes? Knowing dimensions helps narrow down Soap Boxes Wholesale options.

Branding and Design: Do you have a clear brand identity with specific colors, fonts, and logos? Will you need printed soap boxes or prefer customizable options? The more defined your vision, the easier it is to find Soap Boxes Wholesale suppliers who can match it.

Quantity and Order Frequency: How many soap boxes do you need initially, and how often will you reorder? Bulk discounts at Soap Boxes Wholesale suppliers can be significant, but overstocking can tie up capital.

Sustainability Concerns: Are eco-friendly materials like recycled paper or biodegradable options important to your brand? Look for Soap Boxes Wholesale suppliers that prioritize sustainable practices.

Diving into the Pool of Soap Boxes Wholesale Suppliers:

With your needs mapped out, it's time to explore the vast ocean of Soap Boxes Wholesale suppliers. Here are some effective ways to cast your net:

Online Directories: Alibaba, Global Sources, and TradeKey are excellent platforms to connect with international Soap Boxes Wholesale manufacturers.

Packaging Industry Websites: Resources like Packaging of the World and The Dieline showcase innovative packaging solutions and often feature supplier listings.

Local Packaging Companies: Don't overlook local printing and packaging houses. They may offer competitive prices and personalized service for smaller orders.

Recommendations and Reviews: Ask fellow soap makers, industry professionals, and online communities for recommendations on reliable and cost-effective Soap Boxes Wholesale suppliers.

Negotiating the Best Deal on Soap Boxes Wholesale:

Once you've identified potential Soap Boxes Wholesale partners, it's time to negotiate the best deal. Remember:

Compare Quotes: Get quotes from several suppliers, comparing prices, minimum order quantities, customization options, and shipping costs.

Ask About Bulk Discounts: Many Soap Boxes Wholesale suppliers offer significant discounts for larger orders. Negotiate based on your projected needs.

Consider Payment Terms: Some suppliers offer early payment discounts or extended credit terms. Choose the option that best suits your cash flow.

Don't Be Afraid to Haggle: Within reason, politely negotiate price and terms. Remember, Soap Boxes Wholesale suppliers are often eager to secure new customers.

Packaging House: Your Partner in Soap Box Success:

Finding the right Soap Boxes Wholesale supplier can be a game-changer for your handmade soap business. At Packaging House US, we understand the unique needs of soap makers. We offer a wide range of soap boxes, from classic cardboard to luxurious rigid boxes, all customizable with your brand identity. We work closely with our clients to ensure cost-effective solutions without compromising quality or aesthetics.

Whether you're a seasoned soap maker or just starting to lather up your business, Packaging House can be your trusted partner in Soap Boxes Wholesale. Contact us today for a free quote and experience the difference between personalized service and exceptional packaging solutions.

Remember:

By clearly defining your needs and exploring various Soap box wholesale suppliers, you can find cost-effective packaging that elevates your brand and protects your precious suds.

Don't be afraid to negotiate and ask questions. Finding the right Soap Boxes Wholesale partner is an investment in your business's success.

With Packaging House as your ally, you can focus on crafting beautiful soaps while we handle the perfect Soap Boxes Wholesale solution.

[savage-rhi]

Magggennnttaaaa!

[atopvisenyashill]

here is my deeply cringe shelf of funko pops that started when i asked my family for an ugly christmas sweater that had tyrion on it and said “i drink and i know things” as a joke and my sibling got it for me bc they got the joke but my grandpa was scandalized that i was talking about being drunk on christmas so he compromised by getting the tyrion funko pop,,,,, and then I thought he looked lonely on my shelf 😭😭

unfortunately the Starklings have banished tyrion due to crimes of Being Insufferable but don’t worry he’s got new friends, he’s got his patchouli satchel, he’s got his fancy pumpkin, he is doing just fine, he’s even in therapy now!

[kraftpackagingboxes]

The Versatility Of Kraft Soap Boxes For Packaging And Organization

Kraft soap boxes offer a versatile, eco-friendly packaging solution that enhances brand impact. Made from 100% recyclable materials, these boxes are customizable in various shapes, sizes, and designs. They improve product presentation with vibrant colors and optional features like windows. Durable and moisture-resistant, Kraft soap boxes are ideal for protection and promotion. Their sustainable nature and custom printing options make them a valuable tool for boosting brand visibility and customer appeal.

Maximize Your Brand Impact with Versatile and Eco-Friendly Kraft Soap Boxes

Kraft Soap Packaging is a convenient way to package soaps. 100% recyclable material is used to make these boxes. These boxes are excellent for Retail Packaging. Kraft Soap Boxes are completely customizable boxes of premium quality and recyclable Kraft material. These boxes are environment-friendly and sustainable. The trendy custom kraft soap boxes are available in desired shapes, sizes, colors, and designs. You can increase the shelf life of your soap products with premium printing and captivating Soap packaging boxes. These colorful boxes fascinate the buyers and portray an admirable impression. Soap Packaging boxes provide extensive finishing options. These packaging boxes can be with or without windows. Soap packaging offers a unique and creative outlook.

Enhancing Product Presentation and Brand Promotion with Soap Packaging Boxes

Soap Packaging Boxes allow you to showcase and pack your products to highlight and stand out your soap products. They are beneficial for packing your soap products and promoting your brand. Kraft Soap boxes can be customized with a Brand logo, ingredients, and essential information.  Soap Boxes have different themes and styles. If soaps are packed in remarkable packaging, customers will love and appreciate your Soap quality. They are robust enough to hold your items. Soap Packaging Boxes are biodegradable and environment-friendly compared to plastic wrappers. Presentation is an essential part of promoting and delivering your brand. Custom Kraft Packaging increases the sustainability of your product packaging. They are moisture-resistant and provide extra protection.

Get Eco-Friendly Soap Packaging With Sophisticated Designs

Kraft Soap packaging is eco-friendly packaging. These boxes are designed beautifully to carry brand information. Extensive Finishing and printing options are available to make your packaging a perfect marketing tool. Kraft Soap Boxes are fascinating, grabbing customers' attention and increasing sales. These boxes are manufactured in unlimited shapes and styles to provide an incredible presentation to your Soaps. You can make the soap packaging boxes with eco-friendly Kraft and cardboard material. These boxes also consist of sleeves and sliding trays to provide a luxurious experience to your valued customers. You can use custom soap boxes with windows to display your actual product.

Refine Your Brand Presence With Kraft Soap Packaging Boxes

Kraft Soap Packaging Boxes are environment-friendly and sustainable. Soap packaging boxes are valuable for enriching and promoting your brand awareness. These versatile Kraft Soap boxes are associated with organic, vintage, and elegant products. These Boxes are famous due to their eco-friendliness. Custom Kraft Soap Boxes help you to achieve the consumer’s environmentally conscious trust. You can avail of these boxes with different perks. Custom Soap boxes are polished with various embellishments. The latest printing techniques are used to customize these boxes according to customer requirements. Soap Boxes Wholesale is a cost-effective packaging solution to elevate your Brand. The manufacturing process of these durable boxes is efficient and easy.

The Benefits of Custom Printed Kraft Soap Boxes

Custom-printed soap boxes are simple to assemble and convenient for transporting and packing your products. Durable Kraft material is used to add an alluring touch to soap boxes. Soap Packaging Boxes are sturdy and lightweight to secure your products inside. They reduce energy waste and shipping costs. Custom Kraft Soap boxes minimize carbon footprint and are easy to stack. You can improve your brand image and bottom line.

Eco Friendly Soap Packaging Boxes With Cost Effective Solutions

Soap Packaging Boxes are manufactured with sustainable materials, machines, and inks. They provide an excellent packaging solution to promote your brand identity. Kraft Soap Boxes are custom-designed boxes made of recycled material. The material used for these Soap Boxes can be reused and recycled quickly. Kraft paper used for the Soap boxes wholesale offers additional benefits. It is a perfect way to package your products. Soap packaging provides appealing designs. You can find them in elegant designs, colors, patterns, and textures. Eco-friendly Kraft Packaging helps you save money. These packaging boxes are helpful for Businesses in different ways. You can get various options to present your products effectively.

Maximizing Impact with Custom-Printed Kraft Soap Boxes

Soap boxes are printed with marketing taglines and images to elevate your Soap business. It is a convenient packaging solution to ship your products. Kraft Soap Boxes are an ideal option for packaging various types of soaps. These boxes are available in a variety of strengths and sizes. They are glue-free and straightforward to assemble. Eco Friendly Kraft Packaging is a convenient choice for consumers and businesses. The perfect packaging can improve your sales and make your products stand out. Custom Soap Boxes are an ideal option for biodegradable and maintainable packaging solutions. These strong boxes secure your soaps from moisture. A die-cut window option is helpful for the buyers to see your soap box content.

Order Premium Custom Kraft Soap Boxes with Elegant Designs and Features

Order Custom Kraft Soap Boxes made from super-quality Kraft paper, available in elegant designs and excellent printing. Custom Kraft packaging is durable, sustainable, and eco-friendly, with exclusive features. We are offering imaginative and distinctive ways to showcase your products. We provide highly economical boxes to enhance the shelf impact. Get Kraft Soap Boxes with multiple customization features and free shipping.

[customizeboxesusa]

What Makes Printed Cosmetic Boxes Stand Out in the Market

These boxes have become an essential element of the beauty and skincare industry. These boxes not only serve as protective containers for beauty products but also play a crucial role in marketing and branding. The power of packaging is irrefutable, and these boxes are at the front of this trend. Moreover, the main purpose of Printed Cosmetic Boxes is to defend the delicate cosmetic products within.

Printed Cosmetic Boxes provide a Shield Against Damage

They act as a protection against physical damage during transport and handling. And act as a strong material. Moreover, Printed Cosmetic Boxes are versatile and customizable. Cosmetic companies can choose from a wide range of materials, sizes, and shapes to suit their specific product needs. These boxes are available in different materials, such as cardboard, corrugated, and Kraft paper, providing options for eco-conscious brands. The suppleness in size and shape ensures that various goods, from small items to large gift sets, can be accommodated. However, the real magic of these boxes lies in their aptitude to enhance a brand's identity.

Printed Cosmetic Boxes Perfectly Convey the Brand Message

These boxes are like small billboards that convey a brand's communication and values. The choice of color, design, and production techniques on these boxes is vital for creating attractive and memorable wrapping. The use of high-quality printing skill ensures that the brand's logo and product info are clear and visually appealing. Likewise, the artistic appeal of Printed Cosmetic Boxes is vital as they often serve as the first point of contact between a possible customer and the product. When customers face with a variety of options on a store shelf or in an online store, a well-designed box can make a creation stand out. Aesthetically pleasing wrapping can create a sense of luxury, trust, and desirability that inspires the customer to make a purchase.

Edifying and Classy Printed Cosmetic Boxes

In addition to branding, these boxes provide important product information. Ingredients, usage instructions, and any special features can be included in the packaging. This is not only informative but also essential for regulatory compliance. Customers appreciate clear and concise information on the packaging, making their decision-making process easier. Moreover, Printed Cosmetic Boxes are premium products. Sustainability is another crucial aspect of modern packaging, and these boxes can meet the demands of eco-conscious consumers. Moreover, many brands are now opting for eco-friendly packaging materials and printing processes. Cardboard and Kraft paper boxes easily recycle, and water-based inks and biodegradable coatings are being used to minimize environmental impact.

Boxes for Soap Preserve the Quality of the Products

Soap is one of the most joint household items, and its packaging is equally significant. Likewise, these Boxes for Soap are vital for preservative the quality of the soap and conveying vital information to the customer. These boxes play a significant role in the soap industry, ensuring the product's protection and attractiveness. First and foremost, they serve as protective shields for the soap bars. They safeguard the soap from external factors like humidity, dust, and physical damage during transportation and handling. This is crucial for maintaining the quality and integrity of the soap, especially for high-end and specialty soaps that are often fragile or contain sensitive ingredients.

Accommodate your Products with the Boxes for Soap

These boxes come in numerous shapes and sizes to accommodate dissimilar types of soap, whether it's a traditional bar soap, a liquid soap dispenser, or a particular artisan soap. The versatility in project ensures that the packaging can be tailored to the sole requirements of each soap product. In addition to defense, Boxes for Soap are essential for marketing and branding. They offer a canvas for showcasing the brand's individuality, design, and product information. Many soap manufacturers use original designs and colors to make their wrapping visually appealing and unforgettable. Also, they make product valuable too.

Aesthetic Appeal with the Boxes for Soap

Aesthetic appeal is vital in the soap industry, as consumers often make buying decisions based on the appeal of the packaging. Whether it's a simple and clean design for a natural soap or an ornate and decorative box for luxury soap, the packaging should reflect the product's character and target audience. Furthermore, these Boxes for Soap can also convey essential product information. This not only contributions the consumer in making an informed choice but also complies with controlling requirements. Sustainability is a developing trend in soap packaging as well. Many soap manufacturers are switching to ecological materials like recycled cardboard or Kraft paper. By adopting eco-conscious packaging practices, soap brands can appeal to environmentally aware customers and decrease their carbon footprint.

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: none yet

Part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

———————

“John Price, military captain, heavily decorated, and unmarried.” you read off of a printed sheet of paper. He’s the third person you’ve seen today that wants to rent the room available. You were praying this one would be a success. You weren’t looking to house the married couples or the rowdy in love teenagers you’d seen earlier on today.

“Yes ma’am that is me.” He says looking down at you, not metaphorically but physically he’s inches above you. You’re far younger than he imagined, beautiful and so awfully well spoken that he’d assumed you’d be either his age or older.

“If this is your job and you’re not married and don't have kids I’m sure you get paid well. Why do you need a roommate?” You say hoping you don’t sound rude but with a job like that this man could afford much better.

“I’m not home much and basically live on base but for the times I do briefly return home id like it to be in a place like your home, beautiful, deserted, quiet.” The last few places he stayed in were apartments and he wanted to settle into something he actually cared to return to, not just someplace that could hold some belongings.

“Well then Mr.Price let me show you the rooms and house, follow me.” You lead him into your home through the halls and the living room simply showing him around making small talk about your job and hobbies.

“If you don’t mind me asking why is it you need a roommate?” He later returns the question, you halt in your tracks and stand still for a second making John hope he hadn’t overstepped.

“I was in a long term relationship that ended two years ago and when we broke up he left me the house or I technically demanded I keep it and um bills have been hard to keep up with.” You Look him in the eyes and smile softly, relieving him of the anxious feeling he’s holding.

“Sorry for asking.” He sincerely apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it, I think it's better you did because this will lead us to the next thing.” You reassure him and continue walking through a pair of French doors.

“This will be your office, I’m sorry about the boxes, they're a little too heavy for me to carry through this house and throw away.” You point to a fair amount of them pushed into a corner.

“No, don't worry about it, I'll get them out.” He replies kindly.

“And then right through here would be your bedroom.” It's exactly to the right of his office, a huge room which must be the master. He wonders if this had been the room you shared with your ex and by the look that covers your gorgeous features, he’s right.

“It has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet. If you want to live here, I’d like the home to be treated as if we both own it, not like you just rent a room, especially for the price.” You explain and truly that is your hope. He’s the perfect tenant and on his submission form he’s looking for a long term place which would mean less worry about the future bills on your behalf.

“When can I start moving in?” He turns to look in your hopeful eyes.

“Immediately if you want it of course.” You say with excitement. The mortgage payments have been a burden and this was a huge relief.

“Is it okay if I have some of my mates help me take these boxes out?” You nod enthusiastically with a quiet

‘of course’.

“I'll be back here early in the morning, Thankyou for inviting me into your home.” He says turning to make way back down the path you took to the room.

“Thankyou Mr.Price.” You offer your hand as a settlement.

“Call me John please.” He shakes it politely.

“I'll see you tomorrow john.” You say walking him to the door and bidding him a goodbye.

—————-

“Be honest captain, is she cute?” John had the unfortunate situation of having to haul soap with him in his car while the two other men drove the moving truck that he only rented to get rid of the boxes you had.

“She’s nearly a decade younger than me.” He answers hoping that’ll lay it to rest.

‘That doesn’t answer my question.” Soap never chooses peace.

“Yeah she’s stunning.” And really you were.

—————————-

“Hi good morning, come in.” You say opening the door letting the cold air sweep into your warm home. Eyeing the huge men that stood in the doorway.

“Good morning this is soap, gaz, and that's ghost if you couldn’t tell. This is my task force and certainly my best mates.” John replies quickly giving them an introduction.

“Nice to meet you all.” You say trying your hardest to not sound intimidated.

“And you as well, gorgeous.” Soap says gripping your small hand in his own.

“He’s a flirt, don't worry about him.” Gaz says, shaking your hand next.

“Nice to meet you.” Ghost offers you his gloved hand giving you the softest handshake he thinks he’s ever given in his life.

“Well you boys can get too it there is pastries on the counter and drinks in the fridge if you need anything i'll be in my room that’s down this hall.” You say smiling at all of them then reaching into the pocket on your paint stained overalls fishing out a pair of keys.

“Oh and before I can forget John these are yours, this one is too your office and bedroom door and this one is too the house door.” You say handing them over on the pink keychain you’ve kept them on all this time.

“Thank you.” He says before you walk away.

————————

“That little lady does not know how to pack these. They are insanely heavy, how'd she ever expect to get them out.” Soap says picking up a box from the office room that’s filled with papers.

“I don’t think that was her main concern.” John says as he also picks one up walking them outside and into the U-Haul he rented.

“She’s a true stunner though, how will John Price be able to resist?” He teases his captain.

“I’m with soap on that one.” Ghost surprisingly grumbles throwing a box down on the gravel.

“Should’ve seen the way she was looking at you captain.” Gaz enters this pointless conversation out of breath gently setting down more boxes.

“I actually think you're the only one here whose age is appropriate for her gaz.” Gaz makes a sound of disagreement.

“Captain 8 years isn’t what you’re making it seem, don't you remember when soap had a girlfriend like 13 years older than him.” The memory flashes through all their minds and ghost has to keep himself from giggling.

“And don’t you remember how it ended.” It was ugly, soap found that when time passes people get older and being 37 with a 50 year old wasn’t what he thought it’d be.

“All I’m saying is I think some romance with a pretty lady like that could do you some good. I mean your living in a home together tension will get to you at some point.” John rolls his shoulders back and sighs.

“Shut up and get back to work, all of you.” The captain says demanding as they all hurry back inside.

But what if?

——————-

“Wow, I don't know when’s the last time I've seen these rooms empty.” You say walking into the office.

“Was it all his?” John says giving you a one up at the change in clothes. You're wearing your pajamas which consist of shorts and a big shirt.

“Yeah it was, when will you be bringing in your own stuff?” You reply quickly changing the topic.

“I actually have all my stuff in my truck, only three boxes, I’m not a man of many possessions.” He laughs Gruffly swiping a hand over his mouth.

“I have clean sheets in my closet if you’ll be needing some.” You offer politely.

“Please.” He says and you nod, turning to go get them.

“I’ll just be bringing in the rest of my belongings.” He says walking down the opposite end of the hallway.

He brings the boxes in one by one, setting them in the office not paying mind to where you could have gone till he brings the last one in and hears you humming in the bedroom putting what were to be his pillows inside pillow cases.

“Oh love you didn’t have too. I've been making my own bed on base for longer than my memory goes back.” His deep voice slightly startles you.

“Sorry, it's just a habit.” You apologize softly and he wonders if it came off the wrong way.

“No, Thankyou is what I really mean.” He says slightly smiling at the floral print sheets that now adorn his bed.

“Sorry these are actually the least feminine looking ones I have.” You smile realizing how silly it looks for a man as manly as the one who stands before you to have blue and pink flower sheets.

“No worries love.” He nods to you.

“Well I'll see you in the morning, goodnight.” You say giving him a small pat on the shoulder and leaving to what he could only assume to be your bedroom.

He got changed for the night, ready to settle into bed. As soon as his head hit the pillows the scent of lavender and a perfume that had to solely be you was invading his senses. Something so feminine and warm and good, god was it good. He turned his head slightly more into the pillow taking a deep breath in and out enjoying it. The more he focused on it the easier the sleep had come and before he knew it he was sleeping like a bear in hibernation.

—————————————-

I’m ready for a new story.

Comments and reposts and greatly appreciated<3

If anyone has thoughts or ideas on how this should go please send them in.

[jenniferwilson1234]

With the use of soap packaging labels, you can conduct more in-depth analysis of your soap packaging strategy. You need a technique to prevent issues.

Visit: https://clearpathpackaging.com/custom-soap-boxes/

[custompackagingboxes]

Creating the Perfect Custom Boxes

If brands want to be in the lead, they need to know that their Custom Boxes will make all the difference for them. Which is why they need to pay equal attention to the choices and ensure they are perfect in every way. With the help of the following factors, brands can definitely ensure they are on the right path.

Selection of Material Should Be Top Notch

There are plenty of packaging material choices brands can get. They can choose whichever they deem ideal for the product. But often, brands will not know which custom packaging material to go for. And they end up buying the wrong choice. The thing is, they first need to study their own product. Mainly for the reason not every material will go with their goods. Now if they end up buying a material that is not suitable for their item, the end results will be horrible. For instance, they have sensitive devices and they need to send them all over. But when it comes to the packaging, it’s not ideal. It won’t be able to offer the right kind of protection. Or it’s not capable of securing the product from external hazards. Or the quality is just not good enough to hold the shape of the packaging. The end result will be the product getting in trouble. Given this factor, brands need to realize they cannot do away without reliable packaging material. It needs to be top notch and the best thing for the product.

Material Needs To Reflect Finesse

The packaging is the true and honest reflection of the product that is packed inside it. If the retail boxes material is of poor quality, with no finesse, then the buyers will get a wrong impression of the product too. They will think that the product is being charged high for no reason, because there is nothing of quality inside. Which is wrong though. But they can’t help it. Because this is what the packaging is telling them. Mainly brands used low quality material because for them, it’s only the product that matters. But they need to know that to the customers, both matter. But first it’s the packaging that is going to matter to them and make the right impression. If it does, then they go to the product. With that in mind, the packaging material needs to be of the finest quality offering finesse and smoothness. It needs to be so sexy in finish that no one can resist it. Even the people that do not need the product.

The Options Need To Offer Maximum Protection

Strong and sturdy packaging is the way to go for products. If brands want their items to reach out to the world safe and secure. Because when the packaging is not doing its thing, it’s the item that is going to suffer. Moreover, when the product becomes useless, there is no point of buying it either. This product is usually returned to the maker or thrown away without a care. In the end, it’s the manufacturer who suffers because first it spent a lot of money to produce the item, and then it didn’t get the owner any product. Moreover, it was sent back and the maker had to pay for that too. To avoid such instances, brands from the beginning need to ensure they are purchasing packaging material that will offer them the best in terms of protection. No matter what phase or process the packaging goes through, the product needs to remain usable, intact and in the best condition. In other words, the packaging needs to protect the item from all kinds of harm and damage.

The Soap Packaging Should Be Easy To Get Rid Of

Often brands are not careful with the material they are choosing. Yes, we know we have already covered the material aspect. But not from this angle. The thing is, the material needs to be the best in every way. From it being of the highest standards, offering the best kind of strength to it being eco-friendly. Yes, this is the one thing we did not cover. When a Soap Packaging material is something not easy to get rid of, it doesn’t recycle, dispose or cannot be reused, then it’s a flawed option. It is going to be something the buyers are instantly going to refuse or reject to buy. Because of the material alone. At times, buyers won’t even care about the cost of the alternate product they are choosing. They will pay a higher price if they have to, but they won’t afford to damage the earth any further. That’s how careful they are these days with their selection. Similarly, when it comes to design, they will go for a less appealing one if they have to, but they will not select a product packed in non-disposable and non-recyclable material.

Moving on, brands need to be wary about being sustainable as well. They needn’t use too much of packaging. From the very beginning, the material needs to be light in weight. But at the same time, it needs to offer the right kind of protection. Because when it doesn’t, brands need to take aid from fillers and other cushioning elements. Not only will this make the final product heavy in weight but there will be a lot of waste as well. That is why brands ought to be careful here and select a strong and lightweight option from the beginning to be sustainable.

The Packaging Needs To Intrigue the Buyers

When the packaging design has no appeal or excitement, it’s a failed try. It won’t appeal to the buyers, it won’t be selected. But it’s not the packaging that is being rejected here but the product in actual. Given this factor, the Soap Boxes needs to have the design that is super appealing, attractive, alluring and exciting. It needs to grab hold of the buyer’s attention to the point where it actually decides to buy the item.

[stararch4ngelqueen]

grocery shopping with jason, beyond obsessed with doing domestic things with this big strong sometimes broody guy

Idk why the idea of Jason being the only sane person if the BatFam went to Costco or Sam’s club is funny to me.

Grocery shopping at night only. Jason is your scary dog privilege. I didn’t mean for this to be so short, I’ll probably do a target run at some point 😅

—

“Smell this one.” You hold up two various body washes for Jason to smell. One is a creamy, soft vanilla, the other is a fragrant, artificial strawberry with lilac leaves printed on the bottle.

“They both smell fine,” he insists after smelling them. “Why’re you asking me?”

“Cause I know you use it sometimes.”

He says nothing at this quiet truth. Maybe sometimes he’d reach for your bottle during his exhausted showers. Maybe he didn’t care if the smell clung to him for a good while. He didn’t mind one bit.

“That one.” He points towards the scent he preferred.

Essentials first. That was the quiet deal before getting produce. You loved asking for his opinions on a lot of stuff, since you practically ‘lived in the same bed.’

Jason didn’t particularly mind when he’d tread along with you when you wanted a new soap or lotion. Sometimes it was kind of amusing the array of options their turned out to be. You had a good nose, picking out scents he adored smelling on you every time he held you close, invading his hoodies every time you wore them.

“Do we have popcorn at home?” Came your first question after his arms settled snugly around your waist, holding you content to his chest.

“Half a box yeah, why?” You try to tilt your head up, but fail when Jason purposely rests his chin ontop.

“Just wondering,” he answers. “You ‘bout done here?”

“Yeah. Why? Too many single girls making eye contact?”

“More like a ton of single mothers.” He chuckles, breaking into a laugh when you lightly slap the back of his hand.

Checking for produce was a team effort. Sometimes you can’t remember if you have enough of this or that, but Jason’s good memory usually came in hand.

“You had one of these before?” You question whilst holding up a spiky, untrustworthy vegetable after grabbing some cheery looking bell peppers.

“Uh, no? Don’t think so. Don’t know how you would eat those.”

“We could ask Alfred,” you reply while slightly rocking the cart back and forth. “Anything else?”

“I’m thinking.” Jason keeps still, tilting his head back in thought. “I’m thinking got everything. Anything else you want, babe?”

You would say yes, but you don’t really know what you’re particularly in the mood for after filling up your shopping list, having extra money to spend.

This led to the both of you wandering around the store, slightly vacant due to most people settling at home, eating their meals or spending time with their families.

You peer along the freezer windows as you stroll by, nearly coming to a stop after examining some interesting coffee ice cream.

Bump.

The sudden soft prod of the cart frame against your behind made you scoff, turning over your shoulder to peer at a smirking Jason.

“Oops.”

“Rude!”

“Sorry. You walk too slow.”

Scoffing, you grab a bag of frozen blueberries and turn around, witnessing Jason quickly and carelessly toss a bag of frozen avocado into the cart.

“Hey, theirs a system Todd!” You step closer, quickly rearranging the produce and snacks back into their ‘original’ spots.

“Says the woman playing Tetris with our food.”

“The avocados crushing the bread!” You gesture towards the produce. You click your tongue and scoff again to Jason’s delight as you left the bread untouched.

Good thing too. You almost saw the ice cream he had hidden underneath it.

—

Going grocery shopping with the mans 🧍🏽‍♀️

[sentientcave]

Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter One - The Perfect Gift

Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.

~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.

"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."

"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."

"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."

"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."

Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"

Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"

"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."

"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."

Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."

"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."

"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."

You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.

It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.

“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”

You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”

“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”

You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”

“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”

Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.

“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.

As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.

The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.

You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.

Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.

There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”

You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.

“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”

Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.

You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.

You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”

So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.

“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”

He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.

Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”

You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.

And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.

The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.

You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?

Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”

“You drugged me,” you accuse.

“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”

“I like my apartment,” you protest.

“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”

“I don’t want to be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.

You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.

He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”

They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”

“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”

“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.

“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”

“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”

“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.

“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.

You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”

“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”

The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”

“Terrified,” you admit.

He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”

You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.

“Use your words, pet.”

“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.

“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.

Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.

He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”

“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.

“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”

“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”

He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”

You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.

As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.

He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.

Or worse, to play with.

You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.

Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”

So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.

“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”

“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”

“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”

“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”

I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

[spurbleu]

rendezvous

ch.1 mother’s advice

[ johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x f!stripper!reader ]

▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎▅︎

S. mother left you with very little aside from her cat, calloused advice, and a legacy at your local brothel.

warnings. shameless men, customers service industry, mentions of abuse

a/n: lore drop and y'alls first meeting :) again, slowburn so be patient

word count: ~3.2k

‧︎༚︎☉°︎༚︎‧︎༚︎✳︎☉︎︎°︎‧︎༚︎‧︎

“Only eva’ let the good lookin’ ones get dirty wich ya, darlin,”

your mama had said rather plainly one night as you fixed her tea, voice coarse under cigarette,

“no use ina ugly fuck.”

Strange, how the only good advice she had given you (alive, at least. plenty of lessons from her dead), was about sex. She’d never been gentle enough with your hair to elicit the idea she might be with her words (but being a daughter meant you hoped). So, when you buried her, outdated ramblings and boorish tongue, most of what you took with you was boneless.

You packed the vulgar with the rest of the house, strapping it to the back of your truck and hoping it would nestle in the tobacco-less walls of your new apartment (a different shade of yellow- little kinder- absent of bile). Or maybe the newer wooden floors, eroded under boot heel, sturdy still.

On arrival you discovered it had found a less subtle home. Must have been some twisted fate (a mother’s memory- hardly sweet), that your new apartment was neighbors with your town’s brothel.

Funny, how a broke, orphaned woman like yourself, sun bleached elbows and sore neck, was given an opportunity to finally test the merit of a mother’s advice.

The withering building paralleled one of her last gifts to you, a lingerie set. Old brick red, lace trim gauze between blocks. Thick straps bridging bralette to panties like the iron beams holding up a raunchy sign- Rendezvous.

Stench of sex fogged up greasy windows, drunk mumblings of wifeless (or, a more depressing thought, married) men on its porch, wearing crucifixes in bogus devotion. The oak beneath their leather was rusting by their print of dust and the grooves beneath a bottle of beer- sorrel glass broken at the foot of creaky stairs.

Recently, your old church pews found their way back to your mind. You pushed the last of your boxes through the door, knees blushing purple with guilt. No, you had decided upon arrival- you wouldn’t even look at the place.

Pig stye, you’d convinced yourself, whore house. You turned your nose to it all, prissy and ornery even as they whistled from the railings, red knuckles itching for your attention. Hasty for the day they’d see you in dusk light, starting your shift. Only for you to leave them, day after day, cockdumb and unsatisfied.

And you had been doing so well, too.

That was until you opened the envelope- your mother’s allowance. The one useful thing that the drunken, deceased mess of a women could’ve given your hopeless soul. Magnum Opus of her faulty motherhood, forgiven with just some fucking money.

But she was always more complicated than that, wasn’t she. Peaking from the back of the white fold was, indeed, that wonderful, faded green of cash- but in front of it was a depressing beige- capitalized by black ink.

Girl,

Leave this apartment to you, take care of the old thing. That brothel knows me likes me; they’ll give you a job. Make yourself some real money, use my looks, darling. Be good. without me

Much love,

Mother.

You tossed the note aside before your hungry fingers tore the dip of the paper apart- revealing, and you counted a dozen times to be sure, sixteen dollars.

Sixteen dollars is what you’re worth. Cheap cattle at a fair, squalid men drooling as your mother snickers. Your scrawny legs buckled under the weight of the gold bell- which, you’ve now discovered, costs more than you do.

You’d be angrier if you were surprised. But you weren’t. Hell, sixteen wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been- with the way her money was spent on dozens of those cancer packs a day, cig smoke stealing your wages one stick at a time.

You plucked up her note, reading between the pen’s blood to find anything else. Searching, like you had in her for decades, for a little more. A secret message between your fiber taught liaison, written in the tone she had used with you (old spice on dry meat) up until she couldn’t anymore. You could hear it now, reading the note to you, and suddenly you were five again, tugging at her shawl as sleep nipped the last pages of your Goodnight Tales.

You didn’t fail to notice the way she signed it, either. Mother. You had always opted for the simpler, casual name, ‘mama’. It felt truer to what she was, an apparition of a parent spared by a younger nostalgia- lacking the reliance, the respect, of an actual mother.

Yet another opinion where the both of you seemed to diverge.

No, of course you weren’t surprised.

But you were now extremely aware she had limited your options to the worst one. No southern shop, built on dirt and sweat, was going to take a labor virgin without a foot in the door. Which meant the only place desperate enough to take soft, vestal hands and good hair was that ratty brothel.

So, stubborn oxen halting actual progress, you watched the bar for a week.

Perched on a chair by the sill, the last bags of honey tea in your cup as you observed the lulls in its busy. That way, when you eventually forced your ass from the dips it made in the old seat, you’d walk to the door with as little shame as possible.

As you scurried across the street at dawn, sunrise made the old cobble appear prettier than it was. Light finding the gaps between stone, serenity’s veil cast over the Dutch Gables in early morning. The birth of day scared off the grimier patrons, leaving you in the barren womb to watch it’s first breath. You paused there, relishing the one time the small market looked…worth it.

Seconds after you slide through the saloon doors, barely given enough time to drink up the sandy lighting and timber walls, a voice calls from behind the bar.

“We’re closed.”

She’s a natural blonde, you can tell by her lighter roots. Freckles contour a round face under eye bags- and you even catch the subtle crease of crows’ feet next to her grey eyes- blemished and old. Her lips screwed into what you think might be a permanent frown- that is until you speak,

“I’m here to apply.”

and it turns into a snarl, skin pitching at the bridge of her nostril, “We ain’t hirin’.”

Your mother’s note comes back to you, and you loosen the resentment in your voice as you say her name. “I’m her daughter. ‘Said I- you’d let me work here.”

The wrinkle laxed, and her snarl came down to a thin neutral line. “Did she finally kick the bucket?”

You nodded, unsure how to feel when her lips curled. “Damn. Y’had a firecracker of a mother. Worked alongside ‘er iner prime. Solid woman,” her eyes ran up your shoulders, “terrible mother, I reckon.”

You swallowed- she grinned. Her hand beckoned you to the stools, and you took a seat, shaking her outstretched hand. “You got ‘er looks. You’ll do fine ‘ere. Names Francesca.” Her eye narrowed to slits, “Nobody calls me Franny. Its Francesca, or Miss- got it?”

You nodded, and she flashed you another glimpse of her yellow teeth.

“I’ll start ya at the bar. See ‘ow long ya last.”

-

Turns out, you lasted a lot longer than she thought you would.

Swatting advances away as you gave patrons bottles, but smart enough to never get mouthy. You caught more flies with honey anyhow- so as your boots became comfortable in the mop-clean lumber floors, you’d occasionally entertain some of them.

“You single, sweetheart?” Slurred from a regular as you filled his tab. Grisly looking fellow, got years on you. Too many to be talking.

“Enough to work here.” You slid him a drink with a smile. Syrup on a glass rather than salt. The spread of his lips was telling- he tasted it.

Boisterous laughter- too loud to want just liquor- “’nough to sit on an old man’s lap?”

No. Not enough that they thought they’d get lucky- but that was the trick, wasn’t it? Just barely easy enough to send them wily looks over your shoulder, cover the spite in your voice with flirts- onion layered by a blushing red skin- weak enough that it kept them hoping. But never truly easy, moving to the next customer before the last could lean for a fat kiss.

You rolled your eyes with your back turned to him, jaw clicking in thin patience.

“Not over here. That’s for the other rooms.”

His eyes followed your pointer finger, attention sinking its dull teeth into the cardinal doors.

You pretended not to mind your position as the face of the brothel rather than the body of it. Why would you anyway? You’re sure the girls back there would kill for an easy job like yours- given the chance to politely navigate around advances rather than being forced to feed them. You only had to serve the dry slacks- and watch them as they left soiled. You didn’t have to see- no, make- that filthy in-between.

Church taught you enough. Nothing but festering confessionals behind that door.

But goodness, could you be childish. Curious mind, insecure heart- all of you greedy. You were positive they made bushels more than you- and all for some more skin, done up hair and lidded eyes?

You could do that.

Bitter, confusing envy. Makes you mad when Francesca gave you a hard no after asking for a promotion- but sorry as you curl in thin sheets before dreamless slumber.

(Did your greed weigh more than morals? Did church and your father’s absence teach you that little? Nothing should be this existential- but maybe that’s why it’s uprooting. Forked road- giving up a part of you either way.

You hate to admit you buried something of your own with your mother’s body, but what you hate more is that it’ll take this decision to figure out just what it was. Your innocence- daughterhood and a sweet virtue, or your hearth- the fight to survive and earn. Living for a little vice.

You’d dream in saturation on these nights, colors crisper than they’ve ever been- even young. You were never sure why the colors were so bright.)

So here you are, another night drawn as a sloppy line under a bar, marking…3 months? Sunrise and sunset look so similar nowadays, and it made the silhouette of an hourglass harder to etch in the tan pages of your moleskin.  

However, it did give you more time to sketch out the pub.

The booths pulled the same wood of the wall forward in a curved seat, split by a table and cushioned by yellow pillows- filled with rice, those damn things must have been harder than the booths themselves.

Around them, dark oak tables and creaky chairs- makes any working man feel ten pounds heavier with the way they whine when sat on. A candle and 3 coasters in the center of every round table, beckoning more drinks as the day died. In fact- those wax sticks were everywhere along the tavern- even in a chandelier that dangled above the liquor shelf, occasionally dripping hot tears on the bar.

Just the kind of place you’d expect to see the men you do.

Seedy- dusting in the corner of your bar are built scrawny- diet of yeast and grass evident in the hollow of their back. Mouths they hide from their mothers, hands that hit harder than their fathers. But in the redness of their cheeks- bloated by the sun and the contents you served them- was a weakness.

Masculine insecurity that had them calling you a ‘pretty bitch’. A compliment, but derogatory enough their clam tongue wasn’t revealed under the folds of their shell. No pearl, no wealth- just a common, beached, animal.

“’nother round, for mah fellows, baby.”

You glanced up. Sullen face, grey beard- twisted lips that cracked under ale. He flashed crooked teeth, and you strained a smile, forcing the tired plump of your cheeks to spread. You slipped your journal beneath the bar, taking his cups and filling them until the clouds of foam kissed the rim.

He flipped a couple coins on the counter, and you slid them into your palm.

You sighed, running your tongue along the cast of your teeth. Late hours were so boring- never new- repetitive that even the loud, sudden laughter from that back corner didn’t phase you anymore.

There were no more surprises- because everyone was here.

Ned and his calloused farmer men. Not too much of a hassle, sat in the back and called you names- but let you work. Callum and his wallowing ass in the center tables, nursing his umpteenth glass of the evening ever since his wife left.

And Silas- sweet boy- young and excited to drink. He’s more often than not by himself, drunk silly as he draws. You liked him more than the rest- brother feeling about him. Kinder.

So, it surprises you when the bell rings, well into the night, and he walks in.

Brutish arms- hung by shoulders that nearly reach the door frame. The rest of him was just as big- military fed, you had to assume. Strong jaw, buzzed skull except for a well-trimmed bush down the center. He stood out like a sore thumb, the slender builds of farmer boys a third of the bull that stood in front of you.

You weren’t the only one who noticed, as you heard the laughter behind you hush and Callum’s wallowing come to a lull. He didn’t seem to mind- especially as he made his way to the bar- eyes and smile beguiling- and directed at you.

Now you weren’t easily charmed- but you knew a handsome man when you saw one. It’s the particular weight on their shoulders- making their feet come down heavier and gate smooth.

Nothing wrong with looking at them- just as long as you don’t get too comfortable. Just because they’re clams with nicer shells, maybe even a pearl between clean teeth, doesn’t mean they’re any less washed up.

“Welcome. What can I get’cha tonight.” You offered him the same smile you gave everyone.

“Aye. A pint ‘il do.”

The thick arches of gaelic in his voice caught you off guard. Deep timbers, pine rooted in his throat, leaves lime with humor. It pooled in the back of your mouth- an aftertaste you found yourself liking.

You filled his glass, rolling the shock off your shoulders. “We don’t get many scots ‘n here.”

He chuckled as you handed him a glass, blue eyes unwavering as he took a sip. “Nae? Though’ it’da be fool of ‘em.”

He pulled a genuine laugh out of you- the sound of sarcasm familiar- comforting. “What brings you here.”

“Work.” He said plainly- but the twitch on his knuckle told you he wanted you to ask more.

“Military?”

“What gave ye tha’ idea?”

You hummed, eyes running up his shoulders. You didn’t miss how they squared, conscious under your gaze. “You don’t look like a farmer. Too much of you.”

“Aye, ere’s neva too much of me, darl.”

You sucked in your bottom lip. Charmer.

“So, you are military, then?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You idled your hands with one of the many dirty glasses that blistered under old soap studs and dried foam. The rags bumpy fabric prickled your fingers- enough to keep them from trembling when he spoke.

“What branch of the military brings you out in the middle of nowhere?”

“Most of em.”

Your lips thin to an embarrassed line. Right, of course. “I…guess I’m really asking what branch you are.”

He took another swing of his beer, and you watched as he tipped his jaw back- revealing the catch of his throat as he swallowed. Must have been on purpose- show off.  “SAS. On leave, yer place looked tidy,” his eyes gave you a once over, “good tae see ’m right.”

Turning to set the glass down gave you an excuse to avoid his eyes. Demin blue but not casual, deep-set and sharp. Military grade, you could tell by the way they really saw. Accessing you, ran up the hunch of your spine and the click of your wrist- aiming to find spare bullets and threats.

He’d come up empty, though. No, not in you. All he’d find was the jump of your heart against your cervical.

“Mmm,” you offered, “Its cute, I’ll give it that much. Good for the drinks.”

He nodded, “’N maybe somethin more…”

These are the moments when your mother’s voice comes back to you. Thick spit, coarse hair- tangled and suffocating- your lungs sting almost as much as the red print on your cheek.

“Foolish child.”

Your back was turned, so you thought maybe you’d finally been tempting enough to something pretty. That the lilt in his voice, the gravel as it went an octave deeper, accent blooming under light o’s and rolled r’s- meant for your company.

That maybe, the looks you had been told were your only asset, had finally done some good.

You were left disappointed when you turned back around, cheeks a hopeful rose, when his eyes had left you. Instead, past your shoulder, to the red doors.

You’d never seen what was actually behind them, Francesca made sure of that. You could only assume it was the collection of every mans desire painted pretty- shelves of toys, women in bright, expensive lingerie, red lips on rum ones. A childish image, really, but what else were you to do?

In a way, you were just as desperate to get behind those doors as every man here. Not necessarily in the same way- not to satisfy some sick desire, dig up a buried, old arousal that their poor wives didn’t anymore.

No, for you it was to satisfy your own insecurity. Hungry creature, eager to prove and ready to sweat. To be something- pretty, ugly, didn’t matter. As long as you had a place there, you’d be rich.

“Oh, yes,” you let your customer smile come back, editing the script you were given in your head, “pretty gals over there. If you wanted a-“

“Ye work tere?”

You choked on nothing. “What?”

“Do ye work ‘n ta brothel?”

Genuine curiosity. Maybe he was hiding something else behind thin lips, but the question came out too casual for its boldness that you wouldn’t’ve caught it. You found yourself unsure in your own body, standing stiff as your bones questioned whether to lean, sit, or run.

You chose none of the three, and instead you spoke.

“No.” Not yet. You wanted to add. He hummed, taking a last swig of his pint before placing the cup on the table with a…hefty tip. You opened your mouth to say something, but when your eyes met his you were quickly hushed.

Ripped denim, now razor blue. The yellow of the lights seemed to bring it out, and if you weren’t confident he had killed a man, you were now.

“Shame,” he said, standing, “Such a bloody waste.”

[atopvisenyashill]

i put up my starkling art!! not the grey wind one bc that frame is heavier but they look so nice next to each other 💖💖