❧ pretty petals ✿

x

[phyllorist]

prayingfxryou‌:

Boe noticed how red she was and moved out of the doorway. It had been warm out there, but what wasn’t warm in the South? The sidewalk felt like it was on fire most days. It was both a blessing and a curse being the boss of a construction company. He was thankful he didn’t have to be out working in the heat, but paperwork was a drag.

“Here let me take these,” he said, ridding her of the oversized flower display. Whoever wanted these were the biggest cheese ball out there. Boe set them down on his desk before turning back to the woman - finally getting a good look at her.

“I’m Boe,” he said, offering out his hand for shaking. “I’m sorry you came all this way for a dead end. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea? I think we have Diet Coke’s. The girls out front keep it stocked out there, but I’m always in here so I can’t be too sure.”

   The initial flush of embarrassment wore off, Phyl was able to take in the place. She realized too late that this was a foreman’s office, rather than anywhere she’d think to find an Anna. The flowers were better on the desk than beside her, as she hovered after him.

   “It’s a pleasure t’meet you, Boe -- I had a friend named Boe once, played such a mean game of tennis, near took my head off with a racket one time,” she pushed her hair out of her face, and snatched his hand to shake in one movement. It took her a second, with his trimmed beard and well-cut features -- oh, no, he’s a looker. Why’d she tell the damn Boe story -- 

   “Oh -- I don’t mean t’be a bother, but some water would be just lovely,” she pulled her phone out from her purse, which had clung to her through her dash to his office. “I may just text that man who sent me here, see if I can’t work out where I went wrong. I can be outta your hair in no time, don’t let me be a bother you.”

[phyllorist]

prayingfxryou‌:

The first thing he saw was the massive bouquet of flowers. Then he heard the Southern accent behind them. Whoever had given her the address clearly had given her the wrong one. The only women who worked for his company worked the front desk. Leaning up on his toes, he finally got a good look of the woman trying to offer him the flowers.

They were the second prettiest thing currently in his doorway.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know any Anna’s,” he said. “I also didn’t order any flowers.” Boe chuckled and looked over the bouquet. “I’m not really a rose guy, either. The arrangement is beautiful though. Sorry you had to come all the way out here.” Offering her a smile, he looked back at the flowers for a moment.

   Phyl hadn’t made a delivery in weeks, and it showed in that abysmal introduction. She paid a young girl per trip, but they’d not been around -- the point was, this hadn’t gone well at all. She clutched tighter to the cellophane, her cheeks as red as her hair. This man was not Anna, and this place didn’t seem too heavy on women to begin with.

   “No need t’be sorry, you didn’t call me here,” she exhaled, a laugh huffed out as he admitted he didn’t much like roses. She turned over her work in her hand, able to make sporadic eye contact at best.

   “Was a little tacky anyhow, wanted a bouquet like a movie he’d seen -- not real original, but,” she forced herself to meet his eye, a pained smile in place. “I’m Phyllis, and I’m just plain rude f’not sayin’ that up front now aren’t I.”

[0chlophobia]

[phyllorist]

prayingfxryou‌:

“Just a minute,” Boe called. Work had been busy and he had been locked away in his office trying to finish paperwork. Figuring it was one of his guys, he ignored whoever was out there until they began knocking again. He got up from his desk, sighed, and slid his pencil behind his ear. Moving toward the door, he pulled it open and smiled. “What’re you doing here?”

   Business had been slow, slower since the warmer months rolled in. People only ever got flowers for anniversaries or for funerals, and a small town in the South had few of either. And yet this was one of those lucky days, where an order had been placed last minute -- flowers, a whole bouquet of them.

   And she had no clue where to leave them.

   “I was actually -- someone ordered flowers, f’their lady, and you ah, don’t -- “ Phyl peeked down at the card, then back at the man. “S’for someone named Anna, one of the girls up front said she’d be down here, she sent me through -- “ And her mouth didn’t stop, stumbling over an explanation. “Y’have any PAs or -- “

[phyllorist]

bcthgreene‌:

❝Not everyone here is out to get somethin’.❞ She said, she wanted to do this to make people feel better. Negan specifically. He took her in when Dwight had found her alone and starving, he provided her with walls and food—sure, she worked for it but she felt like she OWED him something. 

   “I don’t wanna seem like the dragon lady here, but everyone wants somethin’. Even if it’s just t’see y’family safe and fed.” Phyl pushed her hand through her hair, her attention spread between Beth and the plants under her care.

   “”Makin’ Negan smile is still somethin’, a step in a certain direction -- you’ll be in a black dress like that.” She snapped her fingers, her attention cast towards a passing guard.

[phyllorist]

open -- }

   "Y’can help my out instead of oogle, if y’so inclined.”

[phyllorist]

bcthgreene‌:

Her nose wrinkled up slightly at the thought of Negan currently unleashing HELL on some poor unfortunate soul. A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she moved to set her guitar down. ❝Ya know, better wait—jus’ to be safe.❞ She didn’t want to die, not today. 

   “F’give me f’sayin’, but -- safe?” Phyl scoffed at the word, her smile widened as she tried to soften the blow. “Ain’t such a thing as safe ‘round here darlin’, you know that as well as I do.” And she settled forward, her weight on her thigh. “What d’you think singin’ a song’ll get you, hm? ‘Side from some applause.”

[phyllorist]

bcthgreene‌:

❝Music—’s a POWERFUL thing, I think it jus’ might be powerful enough to put a smile on Mr. Grumpy Pants face.❞

   It’s hard to see a girl as sweet as Beth try around Negan, a man so hellbent on being an ass. She shook back her hair, her chin dipped with a conspiratory edge. “Last I saw him, he was bustin’ up such a fuss over a truck goin’ missin’ -- best pick your opportunity wisely.”

[phyllorist]

@bcthgreene

   “Y’really believe that music’ll cheer up that grump?”

[phyllorist]

   I’m still around! Been busy on other blogs; @chokedfin & @vereckoned & @halfyourshit!!

[emilyblunts]

[flmblr]

[phyllorist]

@gottapick

   Phyl had been pulled into the Sanctuary for a reason. It had been about the observation and infiltration of other settlements, and she had been singled out for several reasons. The clearest intent had been for Negan to fuck her, as he wasn’t any more subtle than that. But she’d been sent to the Kingdom on his word before she’d defaulted to the role of mistress.

   All that combined left her unsurprised when he would ask her what she remembered of Alexandria. It happened less and less now, as she’d only been there once while he’d had a handful of trips. She knew a few basic details, names, gave him an idea of who would be worth his attention. It’d been a while since that initial exchange of information, so Phyl hadn’t thought much on Alexandria.

   And then Daryl and Bianca had left. No warning, no mention, not unless you counted the vague threat Daryl offered to her a few days before. She knew he wanted to leave, and that he promised he’d take Bianca, but she pretended that the escape would include her. But why would it? She’s so happy here.

   “Does it help t’have me here?” She asked from the couch, her arms looped over the side of the couch as she watched him work. The office was once an actual office, though it’d been fitted out in a similar style to his bedroom, all sleek black and gray. 

[nightlock]

the bell jar // sylvia plath

[yearsofmagicalthinking]

I wanted to be where nobody I knew could ever come.

“The Bell Jar” by Sylvia Plath (via yearsofmagicalthinking)

[booksqouted]

I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar (via booksqouted)

[phyllorist]

gottapick:

   Phyl had endured plenty of different attitudes from Negan. He enjoyed the times she took the lead, and he enjoyed when he was the one in charge. It varied, clothes, her naked -- never him naked, though. Not unless she was naked, too. Her question had been clear enough, and he’d even said please... Now this was a whole other dynamic that she hadn’t expected.

   Maybe it came with how he’d said he loved her. That had been enough of a surprise. She had reciprocated, only because she had to. She didn’t want to picture what Negan would say if she didn’t return it. It’d be bad, she could say that for certain. Her lips curved as he encouraged her down. She didn’t need the encouragement, but the hand to hold her hair back was a blessing.

   There wasn’t much room for a tease here, not with how he shifted her like she was an extension of him rather than a person. That suited her. She opened her mouth and moved at his shifts, his tongue pressed along the tip and underside as she resumed her place from earlier. She hummed low in the back of her throat, a curve of amusement as she met his eye.

   Because he loved that. That wasn’t a lie.