Money don't grow on trees. I got bills to pay, I got mouths to feed, And ain't nothing in this world for free! No, I can't slow down, I can't hold back, Though you know I wish I could. Oh, no, there ain't no rest for the wicked Until we close our eyes for good.
Smile on her face, Jo nodded at the other. In fact she was hoping to get one more client in before heading out.“I have an hour an a half before I head out, if it’s big I’m gonna have to ask you to make an appointment.” She informs the other as she walks over towards a desk, grabbing papers. “Do you have an idea of what you would like?” Jo asks briefly looking up.
excitement begins to form in the pit of his stomach, the idea of getting tattooed right now having his pulse speed up. he’s had the idea for this tattoo for a while now, and though it’s small --- certainly nothing major --- it means something to him. ❛ great ! uh, i was hoping to get something quite small actually. just a needle and thread on the inside of my wrist. but... i’d like the thread to be the colours of the rainbow ? ❜
It wasn’t as late as it was usually, something Aravelline realized as she looked at the time on her phone, luckily these buildings didn’t get many visitors even in the busiest times of days. With this information and a variety of paint cans tucked under her belt she started to paint. Had her music not been so loud, she probably would’ve heard the person coming up behind her before seeing the shadow and whirling around to face it… only to trip and fall flat on her face. “Ow. Jesus Christ, who just comes up behind someone like that?” She said, scowling as she sat up on her knees.
❛ my bad --- who graffiti’s in the evening ? isn’t that more of a night time sport ? ❜ they’re standing a little ways back, drinking in the sight of the still-wet paint on the wall with their head canting and their brows furrowing together in concentration. ❛ not half bad though. not quite as many curse words as i’d personally like to see, but still a good start. ❜
ok ok hi. i know i’ve been absent af today but i’ve been sick and i’ve also been busy and that’s such a bad combination let me tell you. but i fully intend on being on tomorrow afternoon, and y’all should hit me up to plot if we haven’t already or add me on d/iscord @ dwight#8209. i’d love to get some closed threads going and stuff for both flora and @freddiies TBH !
ooc // i'm sorry if this is weird but could you please please please link me to the psd you're using on your theme/icon? i've been drooling it for days now it's so nice! thank u so so so so much!
hi bub ! aw this is super sweet, but i’m not really sure how to help you rn :/ i’ve had this psd….. forever tbh and i don’t know who’s it was originally but i’ve edited it so so much to fit my own style ???? so i can’t link you, and i don’t really want to post it since i can’t credit the original. but maybe if you come off anon i can send it to you in private ????
wash your hands, florencia. you aren’t eating dinner until you do.
put that thing down, florencia. that animal is full of disease.
your mother’s always been a bit neurotic. they say it runs in families, genetics dooming you before the world even has the chance to fuck you over.
it was nothing too big, not enough for anyone else to notice. heck, you hadn’t noticed it yourself at first. you thought it perfectly normal that everything had to be in its place, exactly in its place and not an inch off. you’d thought your mother’s household to be a bit stricter than your father’s, but your mother and father always differed in so many ways it didn’t strike a chord.
it isn’t until you’re ten years old that you feel truly uncomfortable with it. it isn’t until you’re ten years old that it makes you itch, makes you squirm, makes you feel nauseous in ways that you don’t understand.
you’re on holiday. it’s a rare occurrence, but it’s lovely all the same. your father saved up for the better part of a year to pay for the trip, but you’re here now. yourself, him and your sibling. florida. it’s hot, the sun bearing down on you, warming your skin until you feel sticky and flustered in your clothes. you’ve been showering more than usual this past week, but no one says anything. no one connects the dots when you come in from a long day of being in crowded places, full of strangers and the unknown.
you’re a little worried about what’s going on back home, but you try not to let it overwhelm you. the bullying began so long ago that you’re not quite sure what life would be like without it. but you’re the protector. you’re the one who’s supposed to keep them safe. you aren’t supposed to be affected by the words yourself. it’s been that way for a while.
don’t forget to drink plenty of water, your dad has been warning you all day and night. your bladder can’t handle much more, you’re certain of it. still, you keep your bottle close to you as you lounge in your twin bed, watching whatever nonsense your sibling has decided to put on the tv. it’s been a long day, and you’re fresh from your shower, hair dripping wet and your feet finding a rare chill that has them tucked beneath the sheets.
you barely register it at first. the flurry of movement beside you. it isn’t until the bottle is given back that you realise what just happened, and you look over at them a mixture of shocked and appalled.
oh, come on flora. it’s just a bit of water, for fuck’s sake. can’t you learn to share?
it isn’t about sharing. you aren’t sure what it’s about, but it isn’t that. it’s the knowledge that their lips have been where yours were, and suddenly your stomach is turning at the mere idea of taking a sip of your own.
you don’t understand it. they’re your DNA. they aren’t disease ridden, as far as you’re aware. but their saliva coating the mouth of your bottle is enough to have your nails making indents into the skin of your forearms, sitting on the edge of your bed as if ready to bolt at any moment. you can’t drink from it now. the very idea is enough to make you nauseated, and you swallow back bile as you pick up the bottle, daring yourself to hold it for a minute, before tossing it over to them.
keep it, you say. acting like it’s no big deal. you only manage to sit there for two and a half more minutes (you count each second), before your young legs are carrying you back toward the bathroom. you’re back in the shower before you even realise what your mind is compelling your body to do. you sit in the bottom of it, water piping hot, and you fight the urge to throw up.
forty minutes later and your father is banging on the door, concerned for why you’ve been taking so long. you yell that you’ll be out in a minute, and you realise your next step is a challenge you’ve never considered facing before. a hotel towel. countless bodies before you have used it, and you can’t be sure it’s been cleaned to the standards you (or your mother) would be content with. you stand dripping in the small bathroom, seconds ticking by as you will yourself to just touch it. you’ve done it before. you can do it now. nothing’s changed, except a switch that’s been flicked in the darkest recesses of your mind.
the next day you spend what little pocket money you’ve been given on your own towel. your water bottle (also new) stays by your side wherever you go, never leaving your line of sight again.
i'm also considering taking up a second character so like.... if anyone has any fcs they'd like to see / connections they'd like applying for, reply to this or hmu maybe ????
Watching the interaction between Flora and Snickers when he returns to the room absolutely melts Bris from his eat on the sofa. They’re adorable, and as much stress as he knows his pup sometimes causes for his flatmate, it’s nice to see evidence of there being no hard feelings for it. “All right, Snicks, go lay in your bed. Go on.” The dog has several beds around the house, and after pretty much swallowing the ham down whole, he trots over to curl up in his soft spot near where the television is mounted on the wall. After, Bris molds both of his hands about his glass and turns his full attention to Flora. “You just made his night.” He points out, as if he doesn’t already know that. He’s excellent at stating the obvious. Lifting the glass to his lips, he takes a rather healthy gulp, grimacing at the unpleasant taste as well as the burn. “Big boy, huh? I can be that tonight.” He wiggles his eyebrows at him, partway flirtatious, but mostly silly. Patting the spot beside him, he sinks further back into the cushions, apparently settled completely now. “C’mon. Get up here.”
flora’s tummy gives a small flutter for bristol’s comment, despite the fact he’d already suspected as much. it can be difficult, having to put distance between himself and others because of his fear, but with snickers who has no idea why flora might shun him in certain ways, it can make him feel quite heartless at times. he likes knowing that he can make up for it in small ways, and that he can still make the creature happy despite their differences. ❛ oh can you now ? how big are we talking ? ❜ flora giggles at the brow wiggling, the silly edge to it being what really does it. he gives an almost pout when bris pats the space beside him rather than offering up his lap like flora thinks he deserves after such a long day, but he crawls into the spot regardless and tucks all into bristol’s side. there’s a content little hum to follow, and he’s taking a generous sip from his glass. ❛ this stuff tastes like shit --- why’d we buy it ? ❜ probably because it was the cheapest thing on offer, or maybe flora went as far as a five finger discount. either way, it was a poor choice in beverage.
ace’s eyebrows raise when flora speaks, and he should’ve been ready for the jab, but it still enrages him more than it should. ❛ fine. ❜ he immediately drops his arms, crossing them over his chest and stepping away from the doors. ❛ you fucking fix this, then, since you have an answer for everything. ❜ and he knows he’s being a child, but with a challenging look on his face, ace goes back to his original position, leaning against the wall and absolutely refusing to help flora out, even if they hadn’t really asked for his assistance. ❛ way to go, genius. ❜ he snaps once there is no reply from the line. ❛ way to fucking go. you saved us, flora. you really did. clearly you’re the only one that knows what to do in life. ❜ sarcasm drips from his tongue, a poisonous smirk spreading across his lips. he does his best to seem unfazed by being trapped in the elevator, but his skin is crawling and he wants to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. ❛ my savior, really. what would’ve i have done without you ? ❜ he looks up to the panels on top of them, a wicked smirk on his lips. he could easily reach for them, but he doubted flora had enough height to do the same. ❛ if you don’t open up those panels, we’re gonna suffocate. there’s only enough oxygen we can share, you know. ❜ his wicked smirk broadens. ❛ i’d offer to do it, but since you’re oh-so-fucking-smart, be my guest. ❜
flora’s never felt hatred so deep in his bones before, but it’s a common saying that there’s a fine line between love and hate, is it not ? ace has been walking it like a tightrope since the day flora found out of what a lying, cheating, prick he’d become. it was a high pedestal to fall off of, but he’d managed it quite successfully and yet... and yet. that’s the problem really, isn’t it ? flora’s never ending hope that he’ll somehow redeem himself. like maybe one day he’ll show some remorse and change his ways. it won’t fix all that he’s done, but at least it’d give flora something to stand behind, to grip onto. a fragment of the man he’d believed ace to be, and one that he could invest some of the love he’d had for him into and attempt to nourish it and watch him grow. instead it seems like the ace he knew fades more and more each time they interact, and at this point all he sees is an enemy. the fact ace is even taunting him right now goes to show how far they’ve come, how deep into this shit they’ve landed. once upon a time they knew each other well enough to know that trying to get flora to submit and roll over was a cruel and harsh tactic. flora assumes he still knows it, he’s just ceased to care. ❛ i’d sooner suffocate than ask you for anything, ❜ he has no qualms with admitting it out loud. his pride may well be the death of him, but this right here is not happening. it’s not fucking happening. flora refuses to be indebted to this asshole. instead he’s removing his jacket, placing it on the ground as a blanket for when he sits down, cross legged by the door. ❛ and we both know i can’t reach it, so i guess i’m just gonna wait. for death or for someone else to help --- whichever comes first. ❜
Jo’s wiping down the chair when the bell chimes, alerting her of a possible customer. “Be right with you in a sec.” She hollers over her shoulder as she finishes tidying her work area. It takes her less than a minute before she’s walking towards them. “So were you hoping to make an appointment, a walk in? My work is over on the table next to you if you wanna check it out.” She’s already looking forward to the therapeutic buzzing.
they tug their sleeve back into place, stepping in through the door and smiling brightly for the greeting they receive. do they have the money to be spending on a tattoo ? no. are they going to let that stop them from getting one ? also no. it’s an investment, after all. an investment in their own body and sense of self. ❛ do you have time ? ❜ they’d been expecting to make an appointment, but, well... if she’s offering, then who’s flora to turn down a chance at spontaneity ?
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