cactus flower

MARGARITA 'MARGIE' DOMINGUEZ. twenty two, waitress. boot hill, arizona. girl as a honeycomb—sickly sweet, riddled with empty spaces.

[honeymoonphantasmagoria-deactiv]

Don’t Deliver Us From Evil (1971)

[girlhoneycomb]

deputyholm‌,

      there’s excited shouts in every direction, screams mixed with laughter from those braving the small array of rides the rodeo has to offer, the exotic animal stands attracting even braver crowds, and shrieks of teenagers messing around with their friends. everything has that distinct summer haze to it, like time isn’t quite passing - and for all he knew, since this was boot hill after all, time wasn’t moving. or it was cycling. whatever complex scientific reason there was for the weird phenomena that surrounded the town. it’s hot though, almost unbearably so for those few newcomers he can spot around the fair, but as an arizona local for over twenty years ? this was nothing. he left the dog back home though, lounging with the back door open so scoobert could keep cool against the heat.

       len however wasn’t so lucky, and something else beside the occasional cold beer that turned tepid in minutes under the direct sunlight was needed - hence, the overly sugary ice pop in is hand. he’s half way into the treat when he notices the person beside him, feels their slightly judgmental eyes. lennox half turns, gesturing with the pop at them in half-hearted manner,     “ you can keep quiet, i can see you just dying to say something and i don’t wanna hear it. ”

margie is, above all, a social creature. the annual rodeo is akin to christmas for most exciting events of the year; the whole (if not most of) town all in one spot, the air is always practically electric with energy and camaraderie. it’s at times like this that margie wonders how anyone could hate boot hill. a small town, sure, one without even a mall!, but who needs any of that big city stuff when there’s such a buzz of excitement in the air? when all the town congregates in one place and it’s such a dizzying feeling, like they’ll never need anything more than where they are? margie’s not much of a drinker these days, at least not in public, but she feels more intoxicated than she did at prom, where the neon lights and disco ball made the school gym look like valhalla.

rocking slightly on the heels of her turquoise cowboy boots (she really loves that damn diner way too much), margie’s spent over an hour talking to familiar customers and old friends from high school, catching up with people of boot hill she doesn’t get to see very often, even in a town as small as boot hill. deputy holm is next on her list of familiars when she spots him with a popsicle, which might’ve been a strange sight if she didn’t already know much he loved cherry pie. “wasn’t gonna say anything, deputy! promise!” still, the smile she can’t hide is proof that she’s laughing with him, not at him.

[girlhoneycomb]

xfnoah‌,

An eagerness to please always seemed to present in a girl such as Margarita. A desperation that Noah couldn’t bare at times. Something Noah once understood so well, a time before he was the vile creature he insists on being today. He understood the want- no the need to know he was doing what he was meant to be doing. One all too well behaved- the splitting image of his father. Now basking in the ushered whispers about him and the bad reputation his name carried. Pride he’d call it. A sin in all it’s glory.

“The fuck do you want?” The words be it aggressive, fell flat as they left his lips. But the way his eyes shot to the other in a glare would have been enough to make up for it. But a danger came with the small town, with just as many fearing the boy as those who would call his bluff. Noah left his stare to linger a little while before turning his attention back to the machine at hand, filling it with powder and flicking it on only to add to the unyielding clutter that already filled the room.

there’s not a soul in boot hill that doesn’t know what exactly noah bennett is, so why is she hurt when he acts exactly in the way that’s expected of him? his tone isn’t all that harsh by his own standards, but it stings like a cut, and with the glare to match? salt on the wound. she knows he’s like this, though, she knows no sweet words or friendly smile will change him. there’s no reason to bother with trying, but it’s not in her nature to give up so quickly. even after years of him only being a ‘pissbaby asshole’ (as her best friend joey ryan had put it) to pretty much every single person he ever came across, it only makes her desperately want noah to like her. she wants everyone to like her, even pissbaby assholes.

“people tend to say hello when someone walks into a room, noah.” it’s not exactly biting, but it’s ruder than margie usually speaks to others. still, she doesn’t want the sting of his glare again, so she turns towards the cart full of clothes and pushes them the very short walk towards the dryers. opening the hatch and then shoving the wet clothes into the dryer, she spares fleeting glances to noah and feels the itching need to speak to him, despite how much she knows she shouldn’t. “you shouldn’t use that washer. someone washed their red clothes in there and the dye bled out so it turns everything red.” her lips smack together, shrugging a shoulder. “just a tip.”

[girlhoneycomb]

what's the hot gos ?

honesty day : accepting !

“well, i don’t like to gossip but...” she leans forward, “i heard abby stevens got caught sneaking out of gavin macclean’s trailer last week.”

[girlhoneycomb]

Have you ever thought about not pleasing everyone?

honesty day : accepting !

of course she’s thought about it. all those times she’s sacrificed her time to help another, all those times she’s taken care of others without a thanks in the end, but it feels entirely unnatural not to do her best to treat everyone like a close friend. “what’s so wrong with liking to be nice?”

[girlhoneycomb]

what kind of puppy???

honesty day : accepting !

“my mom used to have a little chihuahua when i was a kid,” she’s surprised she can even remember, it was sooo long ago, “but honestly? i hated it. i think a golden retreiver puppy would be sooo cute, though i don’t know where’d i’d even get one.” or how her family would even fare with a little puppy in the house.

[girlhoneycomb]

any men in boot hill that catch your eye?

honesty day : accepting !

“i mean… when you spend pretty much your whole life with the same people, you tend to get used to how they look, y’know? i guess that guy from the diner, he was very cute but seemed a little… haunted? he’d be so much cuter if he smiled, i think.” she shrugs, a little embarrassed by the topic. “the pastor is attractive but, y’know… married! and a pastor. and i suppose i’ll always have a little crush on deputy holm, since he’s like… the perfect man, but trust me, i know that would never happen and i don’t think i’d want it to. he’s way too old for me and like? that’d just be waaaay too weird, i’ve known him since i was a kid. gross!” ( @dysdaimcns / @hosannagabriel / @deputyholm )

[girlhoneycomb]

what is your life missing?

honesty day : accepting !

there’s a lot of things missing from margie’s life: a stable home, attentive parents, her step-brother getting the help he needs, a better paying job, and most of all probably, her mother. as much as those things are missing from her life, she doesn’t like thinking about them. “i don’t know? maybe a boyfriend?” she’s been doing fine without a man in her life for quite some time now, maybe it’s better this way. “oh! i know! a puppy.”

[girlhoneycomb]

what's a cherished memory?

honesty day : accepting !

“meeting my best friend joey, of course!” she had just moved to boot hill, the new kid in school, when some older boys instantly recognized her for the people pleaser she was—and is. they tried to get her into a bad situation but joey saved the day. since then, they’ve been inseparable. ( @amaniitas )

[girlhoneycomb]

real question for the working class: who tips the best and how do we get on their good side?

honesty day : accepting !

“well i don’t like to gossip…” which is a lie, but she certainly doesn’t like anyone to know how much gossip she knows. “it’s kind of a wash around here. the rich kids have the money but they don’t like to share, while the poor kids try to tip but usually come up short.” she waves it off, empathetically. “i don’t really mind either way, whatever people feel comfortable paying!” but seriously, tip your waitress.

[southboundhqarchive]

Southbound Honesty Day!

Here’s how it works: instead of having just a few hours of play where only those in accommodating timezones can participate, Honesty Day lasts all day! (Obviously.) From 12:00 AM EST Monday to 12:00 AM EST Tuesday, you may send and receive anons (or off anon, if you’re feeling adventurous) to all participating characters. To participate, reblog this post onto every character you want to be in the game and only send questions to those that have reblogged this post. Include everyone who wants to play and remember to pay it forward. No hate will be tolerated and you are not required to answer any questions that upset you, but other than that, go hog wild and have tons of fun all gosh darn day!

[girlhoneycomb]

godfreynate‌,

It had been a long day at Chuy’s, Nate trying his hand at fixing a car that seemed to be impossible. It didn’t help that it was so hot outside. He was surprised the tires hadn’t melted yet. Nonetheless, Nate was too stubborn to give up - a trait he had gotten from his asshole of a father. He wanted to say he got it from his mother but he hadn’t known her to figure that one out. Nate persevered despite the challenges that the weather as well as the stubborn car before him brought. He stopped once he heard someone walking in his direction, turning around to see who it was. A flirtatious grin broke out on his face once he saw who it was standing before him. “Well, hello there. What can I do for you today?”

"no, no, no!” margie’s usually cheery voice cries out, slapping her hands against the steering wheel. it’s not really a surprise that her increasingly untrustworthy 1985 volkswagen rabbit is sputtering like a sick child with a persistent cough. after all, it’s eleven years older than herself. there’s no such thing as a brand new car in a town like boot hill, everything is inherited or made by their own hands. stuck out on east flowing water road, it takes her an hour to walk all the way to chuy’s. “hola chuy!” margie greets, attempting to sound as sweet and kind as she normally does, but her car breaking down and the hour long walk underneath the january arizona sun has left robbed of her own sunshine. she stops short when she realizes it’s not chuy, it’s some other... man. a man she doesn’t know, smiling like he’s been waiting all his life to see her. “oh! sorry. um, my car broke down near the library.” she curses the sun twice, leaving her sweaty and distressed just for her to immediately interact with a man that’s too handsome to be from boot hill.

[girlhoneycomb]

xfnoah‌,

Dull was the town along with everything that came along with it. Paint through town seemed like it was chipped years ago, yet it remained that way as long as Noah could remember. The gravel roads kicked up when the occasional car would pass, and thin layer of dust lie across everything in sight. At least the later could easily be chalked up to desolate surroundings that engulfed the town. Just as one could put down the ever present silence that lingered no matter where one was.

Gravel beneath his feet was all he could hear as he strode through the desolate town, cursing at the broken washer in the house. The doors into the laundromat he slammed open without much care if one was already situated in there, and proceeded much the same with the machine. Careful to disturb everything he came in contact with. Clattering of tumbling dryers that sounded to be on their last days didn’t manage to hide the interruptions of his loud proceedings, as the boy began tipping the basket of clothes inside.

the dominguez's washer hasn’t worked in over four years. just another thing to add to the list of decay in their household, mold that’s gone untreated for years, but margarita is a savant when it comes to ignoring the smell of rot. she could beg her father for a new one, plead with her step-mother to get out of bed and help her schlep all their laundry over to the laundromat to do it all together, scream at her parents to get off their fucking asses and take care of the house crumbling around them. she could, but she doesn’t. she never would. margarita dominguez will carry on doing the laundry of every family member in their household without them ever asking her to. (if she doesn’t do it, who would?) so it’s a weekly routine, come to the laundromat and spend two hours laundering, sometimes with the help of her best friend joey and sometimes with just the peace of the spin cycle.

there’s no such thing as peace when noah bennett is around; noah bennett comes in a cacophony of noise and disruption, always entering a room and letting you know it’s him before you even look. she can’t say she’s surprised to see him, noah is a plague that seems to show up in the most random of places; she supposes even plagues need to wash their clothes. lopping the wet clothes from the washer into the cart, margie knows it’s better to confront noah at first glance than to ignore him. ignoring him only seems to make it worse. she sighs as she looks over at him, smiling politely. “hey there, noah.”

[girlhoneycomb]

hosannagabriel‌,

MARGIE WAS EXCELLENT with the kids. Which was saying something because they were often more difficult than your average elementary schooler. Even Matthew, who was usually more content to babble on about whatever object he could manage to remember the name of, held his attention on her. He was grinning wildly at Margie. It was truly adorable. Gabriel couldn’t help but follow suit, dabbing at the remainder of his son’s tears with a spare napkin as he did so. He was more than happy to egg the older kids — who were nearly jumping in their seats — on as Margie went to go grab their distraction. “Oh wow, guys, look at this!” He exclaimed when she placed the box on the table. “Miss Margie can read our minds, I think,” A little wink shot her way — because puppies happened to be Abby’s favourite animal of the week. Gabriel knew his kids. Knew that inciting any competition between them would cause mayhem, since they hated one another enough as it is. “hm, I think they can only have pie if they finish it together. Oh, and if they’re careful. Wouldn’t want to ruin someone else’s toys, right?” He was met with a tentative nod from both kids. “right,” He reiterated, grinning as his children began to dig into the puzzle. “i’d probably be a good idea if you have them the least messy meal you can think of, just in case though,”  

margie is slightly taken aback by the pastor’s wink, visibly so by the flinch of her shoulders and the blush that comes to her cheeks. she knows he’s just being polite, he’s a married pastor, but it flusters her all the same, completely involuntary. she tries to recover by giving the children every ounce of her attention, smiling wide and kind of childishly. watching them dump the puzzle onto the table, she laughs at their excitement; she feels like a fairy queen bestowing the princes (and princess) with their wildest dreams instead of a waitress with a puzzle habit. her heart squeezes, looking at the children with the fondness of a big sister—she is one, a big step-sister at least, but emma’s too cool for her now, all she wants to do is hang out with her friends and talk about boys. (margie knows she was once a thirteen year old, equally as boy- and friend-crazy, but it hurts now that she’s on the other side of it.) “ah, good idea.” she comments to the pastor, nodding assuredly. sharing, right. her own older brothers were much older than her when she was a child and she had grown out of playing with barbies by the time emma came into her life. oh, who was she kidding? she’d give up anything for anyone, including the peace and quiet of lock up for a frazzled father of three. her eyes dart comically between the kids and their father, still a bit too flustered to look him in the face, but she puts her mind to work for the least messy option. no mac and cheese, no apple sauce, spaghetti’s a bad idea. “how do they feel about chicken tenders?” she asks, finally looking at him squarely, but she whispers it in the foolish hope his children won’t hear, lest a three-child riot breaks out.

[girlhoneycomb]

brckenheavcn‌,

mallory smiled as she turned to look margie. mallory wasn’t sure how she ended up being friends with the girl after all these years. she’d always admire margie from the sidelines, the girl so nice she’d probably make friends with a trashcan if she could. mallory had been more closed off back then, scared to let anyone close. but now, things had changed. things were different now and the two were close which mallory was grateful for. margie was a great friend, one of the sweetest people mallory had ever known. “thank you,” mallory replied. she didn’t think she looked gorgeous. ok was probably more like it but mallory didn’t want to kill the mood with her insecurities. she then turned back around to face the mirror as she fixed her hair, chuckling once she heard margie listing off the several places they could go. “the howl definitely. i think indie’s gonna be there tonight and i haven’t seen her in a while too. o’rourkes is the last place i’d go to, trust me,” mallory assured.

it’s somewhat obvious mallory doesn’t see what margie sees when she looks in the mirror. it’s heartbreaking; margie has always thought mallory is incredibly pretty, even when they weren’t friends as teenagers. it wasn’t as if she didn’t like mallory back then, there was really only a handful of people margie truly didn’t like, but their circles didn’t run together. maybe, just maybe, she thought mallory was a little stuck up, so closed off from the rest of the world. her opinion changed quickly once she got closer with mallory; maybe she had just been jealous over how pretty mallory is. “fine with me.” margie confirms, getting up from the floor and walking up to the mirror. margie stands behind mallory and puts her hands on the other girl’s shoulders. “you’re gonna turn so many heads, the guys at the howl won’t even know what hit ‘em!” she beams, enthusiastic and encouraging. “they’ll be like, whoaaa who was that total babe? oh my god, it’s mallory goode!” she gives mallory’s shoulders a small shake, her voice nearly dropping an octave in a sorry attempt to imitate a man.

[girlhoneycomb]

visionsofash‌,

ash cradles the mug close to her chest and blinks for a moment. it’s strange. her entire body feels heavy, like she’s moving through molasses, and that extends to her mind too. she thinks it’s the effort of trying to remember, of trying to hold lisa in her mind’s eye. over the years, everyone else has faded but lisa remains and ash is determined to hold onto her. she doesn’t know how successful she’ll be. eventually, she looks up at the waitress. “ten?” she asks. “i’m sorry, it’s so late. i don’t need any food. it’s okay. is it okay for me just to sit and finish this and then i can go and let you close, sorry,” she says, staring back down into her coffee before taking a long sip. “it’s good coffee. thank you.” 

the look on margie’s face as she eyes the woman is one of complete concern. it’s not as if that’s strange behavior for margie, she cares about every living thing she comes across, but this woman seems especially haunted, lost in a cavern painted turquoise. boot hill is a safe haven for lost people it seems, or maybe it’s boot hill that makes them lost. she can’t pretend to busy herself with cleaning menus so she leans forward on the counter, overbearingly worried. “sit there for as long as you like. take your time!” not too much time, of course, but margie’s in no hurry to close up when she dreads going home every night more than she dreads getting up for work every day. “can i at least get you some pie or some crackers? something in my tummy always makes me feel better.”

[girlhoneycomb]

deputyholm‌,

          there is a part of him that feels close to snapping, a twinge of an old scar in his chest at just how unprepared he always feels on the days he takes that slow walk through the gravestones. it would be so easy to just… collapse into one of the diner’s booths, so easy. it’s not a sense of maintaining an air of sturdiness or a show that nothing could phase him, that keeps him from doing so. no, it’s the flutter of concern shown by her that keeps him steady enough to ease down onto a seat with a nod of thanks once again. margie had always been a sweet girl, ever since her family had moved to boot hill and he’d seen her and her friends enjoying themselves around town. especially in her attitude at work, and her kindness is a balm against his raw edges he sorely needs right then. lennox can’t help a returning a small turn of mouth in response to her offer, relaxing for the first time in what feels like hours, and he sounds weak even to his own ears, “ a slice of pie too ? now you’re just spoiling me. but that’d be great, if you don’t mind ? “

though she’s not a girl anymore, it’s hard not to be charmed by deputy holm. there’s something sort of gallant about him; if she had been much younger when she came to boot hill, she might’ve thought he was a real prince in a fairytale instead of a giant. sometimes, she still thinks of him as that prince charming facsimile, a good man that does good things and thinks good thoughts—she doesn’t know about the depths beneath, but maybe now she’s getting a peek. it’s hard for margie not to romanticize people, think the best of them and plant them in her mind as stock characters in a story centered around the more banal themes of boot hill. she builds up expectations, gives them all new personalities and thoughts, and only gets her feelings hurt when they can’t live up to them. still, deputy holm is nice to her, it hurts her now to see him look so much like the befallen hero instead of the gallant one. “for you, sir, anything!” margie steps over to the desert cabinet and bends down to look at which pies still have slices left. her head pops up over the counter and she calls to him, “we’ve got cherry and french silk left. your pick!”