#i need/ed it

[shoshiwrites]

while spring is making promises outside — a flower shop AU featuring my OC Jo. Chapter 5/9. Some chapters a little NSFW.

Catch up on Chapters 1-4 at the link!

They start talking more, somehow. Probably has something to do with the  fact that he's on Jo's block more often than not now, if he's not fixing up a busted cabinet or doing one-off woodworking jobs or running arrangements out to clients. Either at the shop or the tattoo place a few doors down, talking to Angelo about getting some pieces fixed up or maybe even a new one. He doesn't really have the money for it if he's being responsible, but he didn't really have the money before, either. That's why he's only got a couple real good pieces, the ones he'd basically bartered for, and the rest are the stick-and-pokes of an unsupervised youth. 

The lights are always on, at Fran's.

He can always busy himself with whatever tasks are urgent that day, mostly heavy lifting that Jo says she'll do herself. He's the one on call the most now, since Bill's at home with Fran and the newest addition — a baby girl. Something inside Joe's heart hums at the thought. He's already at work on the gift, a little music box where you can see the mechanism under glass.

Today it's unpacking shipments for Easter, lilies and Easter cactus and hyacinth and azaleas. He doesn't care so much about the differences between flowers. It's nice to be surrounded by things that smell nice and look nice, especially the colors that usually crowd the store. But white lilies he hates. White lilies are funeral flowers, are the same church twice over, headstones and suits that are too big or too small, a flag-draped casket that makes your ribcage feel too big for your body. He swears he's seen Jo make a face at them too. He wants to ask her who it's for. 

It's Sunday, after closing, but they're here behind the scenes while Frankie does a big wedding consult downtown. 

Clara raises her voice from the front of the store. "You want a coffee, Joey?" Clara might be the only person who gets away with calling him Joey other than his Ma or Ann or Sarah. The reason for it is practical, but he still fights a wince. At least it's better than mister, which is what he'd gotten the first few weeks. The answer's yes now, more often than now, but bless her, she always asks.

"How come you never ask if I want a coffee?" Jo says, ignoring the half-drunk glass in front of her, the melted ice. They work shoulder to shoulder, like an assembly line, if you count all the interruptions about beverages or to switch the music or to argue about spring training prospects. 

"You know where the machine is."

Jo snorts.

"We have vanilla syrup if you want some, Joe. Oh! And I just made some almond too. Sort of an amaretto vibe."

His voice crackles with a laugh as he eyes Jo's face. "Vanilla sounds nice. Thank you, Clara."

"Don't mention it."

"You guys are so cute," Jo says flatly, clacking her gum on her back teeth, and he laughs. "You wanna run some practice questions?"

That's how they find themselves at a folding table in the back, Jo sketching a twine-tied bunch of herbs and greens and pale orange poppies, and Joe hunched over his exercise book. Jo can technically pass off what she's doing as work, since Frankie asked her to design some new promotional materials for the store. He looks up a little too long, at her eyes and the freckles scattered under her jaw, the press of her mouth.

"What?"

"Have you thought about what Evie and Angelo offered?" Evie won't stop talking about Jo's drawings whenever he walks in the place and neither does Pat or Angelo. How they'd love someone with that eye for detail to get into the business. Joe sees it himself, her careful sketches and the way she shades, the subtle colors. They want her to train with them. 

She moves her mouth around a little, but doesn't say anything. Probably the same face he'd given her when she'd softly suggested he call his ma after he'd been looking at business courses at the local community college. But he'd actually picked up the phone and done it. Maybe next week he'll try Ann and Sarah. Jimmy's still a wildcard, though. The guilt comes in waves. Joe bites at his tongue with his back teeth. 

"Listen, I know it's scary."

"Human skin, no big deal," she says. She doesn't look away from the bouquet. The tiny gold hoops in her ears glint under the bright lights. 

"Well, there is this thing called practice."

"Are you volunteering?"

Done with the last question on the page, he drops his pencil on the table. It starts to roll. He leans back in the metal folding chair, nearly tipping the back legs. "Call me scratch paper, baby."

She finally looks at him. "You're full of it."

"Yeah, probably."

She turns back to her paper.

"I'm heading out, Jo," Clara calls. 

"Have a good class!" The bell above the door chimes as Clara leaves.

Joe puts himself back upright, now acutely aware of the fact that they're the only two people in the store. "Listen sweetheart," he says. "You'd be good at this." The word sweetheart pulses like an exposed nerve. Fuck. Why did he say that? He can see her swallow. 

"I'll think about it."

She always says that, but he doesn't push. He doesn't have a right to, does he, with everything he knows about her and everything he doesn't. With the mess he calls his personal life. With Allie.

There hasn't been a sweetheart since the two of them had met at a rock show god knows how many years ago, back when he felt a swing in his stomach when she smiled, back when he thought she looked so cool and unbothered and he couldn't believe she was talking to him. 

Do you wanna go get a beer, he wants to say, and to his shock he realizes that he's actually said it. Even more shock when Jo says yes.

This is how they find themselves at some dive that's open, and somehow also has a patio. It's a little too cold to be out there but not terrible, as they huddle in their jackets with their drinks. 

Jo-with-a-beer isn't much different than Jo-with-coffee, he finds, at least at first. 

They stumble around what they can. He hears about Berlin, from her, for the first time. Very small pieces. He swears her eyes look a little watery, in the fading light, but when he blinks it's gone. There's a tension in him, watching her skirt around things that have clearly hurt her, but that she doesn't name. He tells her about his family, the parts he can, at least. The facts, or some of them. She smells so sharply of green, and the soft floral smell of her shampoo. 

This isn't a date, so he lets her pay her half. He walks her back to the shop, and gets in his car. He can't bring himself to call Jimmy so he texts, something that says nothing but still feels like too much. The air is like winter still, but the light... In his room he thinks about her, the way she must have looked there. Filling in the spaces of what she'd said about supplemental income, artists and modeling. The look on her face as she'd said it, something like regret. It feels wrong, the clench of his jaw here in his bed, the way his skin feels too tight. His hands fumble. He flips over on his stomach, hips begging artlessly for release.

[foodiebby]

Found this on pinterest and it looked interesting to share!

[m0nsterm0vie]

[lyslowcal]

A cat says “meow”

A dog says “woof”

And a pig says “I’ll start tomorrow”

[silentlittlelambx]

"having a fast metabolism is so hard 🥺🥺" oh shut the fuck up you know you enjoy being able to inhale the whole mcdonalds menu and stay under 40kg dont even lie

[nova1224]

Me right now

[bebe774]

a month from now you can be 10lbs lighter or 10 times more miserable

[w4n4be]

might be tmi, but..

- getting skinny so people will be less disgusted when my depression won't let me shower for a couple of days.

- getting skinny so my clothes can swallow me up until I feel like I'm barely there.

- getting skinny so there's no fat on my legs to restrict movement.

- getting skinny because I heard it betters top surgery results.

- getting skinny so I won't feel out of place next to my drop dead fvcking gorgeous friends.

- getting skinny so people don't just love me "as a friend".

- getting skinny to have more than just a good personality.

- getting skinny because being obsessed with getting skinny means I don't have the time to think about all the fvcked up shit that's still rotting away in my head even if I should've been over it a long time ago.

[strawbewiemilk]

My toxic trait is firmly believing that being $k!nny will solve nearly all my problems, and I refuse to consider otherwise

[coquettekcals]

Reminder!!!

[ibupr0fendolll]

busy girls are skinny girls. GET MOVING!!!

[foodiebby]

Ricecakes Mealspø

Make your rice cakes taste and look more interesting :)

Pictures from pinterest

[wl-butterfly]

Me when I have to eat in php

Message me for wl buddies

[lyslowcal]

Nobody talks about how having an Ed saves so much money

[silentlittlelambx]

why is ⭐ving so fucking boring all the time??? i dont even feel hungry anymore im just bored

[hansoeii]

stede bunnet