just a knockoff.

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.. guiltyfilthysoul. ! an independent mutually exclusive fandomless blog. original character with original lore. this blog will include not safe for work content and triggering themes.  themes include : the unwanted child, abusive parents, death mentions, drug and alcohol addiction, alcoholism, mental breakdowns, losing someone close to you, losing yourself, not-guilty verdicts, and getting revenge on those who took something from you.

 heavily affiliated with the likes and lore of @woodridgehollow​.

001. just be chill, seriously. no kind of hate-speech. we’re all adults, ( at least be over the age of twenty-one to interact with me please ) so treat each other as you want to be treated. i’m nice and easy to get along with, treat me with respect and i’ll do the same for you, it’s as simple as that.

002. this is a safe space for myself and my writing partners. if you need something specific tagged, trigger wise, please let me know and i’ll more than likely oblige. otherwise basic trigger tags will be used.

003. i ship with chemistry. and more than likely, i ship with my out of character friends. this is a multi-verse, multi-ship blog. if that’s not something you’re into, then i’m sorry, this is not a space for you. established relationships otherwise ( familial / platonic / hateship  / any other dynamics ) are welcome.

004. this is not my main writing platform. i have obligations that lead me to sometimes be busy and sometimes my brain doesn’t work right and the muse is gone. please take that into consideration if you’re willing to write together.

005. main blog is notladylikes. follows will most likely come from there.

                                                               CINDERELLA’S DEAD NOW, CASKET.

my sister, she’s gone missing. cops ‘round these parts are all real interested in the case, til they realize it’s got foul play written all over it, and now they’re putting it off - saying they’ll ‘look into it.’ lazy fucks. all of ‘em. the likelihood they’ll actually do their job is slim to none, ‘cause they can’t be bothered to do actual work. that’s blasphemous, in their eyes. preacher says he’ll get on them, but that’s a waste of time. he’s feedin’ my mama a sack of bullshit. talkin’ about how god will help us in our hour of need, but if god were listening, would maggie’ve gone missing in the first place?

i think something’s up with this town, the people never paid much attention to me, i was always the one that came first, the screw up. once i hit teen years everybody stopped looking at me and started lookin’ past me. but maggie? she was the golden child. voted nicest person in town, or some bullshit like that. got a sash even. they used to look at me like that when i was real young, like i had potential. then at thirteen i started causin’ a ruckus because my mama would rather dote on her ‘new family’ instead of payin’ attention to her old one, and things all went to shit.

maggie and me though, we got a bond like no other. i feel so lost without her, like a part of me is just defunct altogether. there’s a hole in my heart where she’s supposed to be that’s gone dormant, i can’t feel her anymore. i’m gonna find out what happened to maggie, if it’s the last thing i do. so y’all better prepare yourselves, ‘cause if somethin’s done happened to her, there’ll be hell to pay.

                          it should have been me. it should have been me. it should have been me.

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don’t go into the neutral. her mother warns, but does juliette listen? absolutely not. she spends her days amongst their trees, dipping her toes and skipping rocks at the river, picking and pressing flowers into the pages of her dream journal. today is no different , except for the fact that there is another person in the neutral. and juliette - sweet, bubbly, juliette, is eager to make friends. “hi!” she says, after actively sneaking up on the young brunette. the jump and gasp that exudes from the female sitting opposite her is enough to cause juliette to jump as well, and she notices the fear written across this girl’s face before she starts apologizing profusely. “i’m so sorry,” she starts, placing her hand on the girl’s shoulder, warm to the touch. “i didn’t mean to startle you.” glancing down she looks at the book that the young girl dropped, and bends to pick it up, reading the cover and drawing a finger over the spine before dusting it off and handing it back. “i’m juliette.” the girl seems hesitant at first, but after a few moments, a voice speaks out amongst the trees just when juliette was about to give up hope and head home. “carmen.” carmen’s voice is soft and like honey filled pastries, sweet. it’s this moment when juliette decides that they’re going to be best friends. whether carmen has a choice in the matter is yet to be seen. as she planned, the two did become friends, quite good ones in fact. neither disclosed their side - whether light or dark during their time spent in each other’s presence, and juliette couldn’t be happier to have a friend. if she was being honest, most people on her side of the realm refused to talk to her for some reason, like she had something wrong with her or something. but carmen never treated her any differently, and that’s why carmen was her best friend. “do you ever think about running away and going on an adventure?” juliette asks, dipping her toes into the cool waters of the raskini river that runs through the center of the neutral. she chews on a piece of a pastry, offering the other half over to carmen who takes it with a smile across her face. “sometimes.” juliette ponders it for a moment, before standing ankle deep in the river. “let’s do it. forget responsibilities. let’s journey to the mountains of nirn and see what life is really like in the neutral. i’ve heard of villages that are open to outsiders, maybe we can find a place there to simply...exist.” carmen is silent before a resounding ‘yes!’ fills the air, and juliette squeals. the decision is made, tomorrow they will meet and set off into the wildnerness of the neutral, forgoing any disturbances that may come their way. this is where they become truly who they believe they were meant to be - not under the oppressing forces of their parents. light or dark means nothing in the young girl’s eyes. they can simply be.

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this was supposed to fix things. fix me. fix everything.

juliette sits on the makeshift bed, a mattress on the floor. she’s picked and pulled at the sheets, nearly ripping them apart at the seams, until they took them away.

the brunette scoffs. like she was going to commit suicide. that’s so beneath her.

but now she scribbles in a book, random musings that pop into her brain, thoughts of death and pain and sorrow. unsent letters, poems with no rhyme. she writes. and draws, there are images spread across pages that one would consider vulgar, but to her, they are beautiful. they are a depiction of the emotions that she seems to have swallowed whole and regurgitated onto paper.

the thought creeps into her mind again.

why didn’t this fix me? why am i still so very broken?

juliette was a bright young girl, kind and courteous despite her sarcasm, always wanting to go out of her way to help others. and didn’t she do just that? didn’t striking down devin horowitz. his soul was scattered to the winds, no tether to hold him to this earthly coil. gone and not to be missed. the horror of this man’s wrong doings were enough. they’re why she was granted time in this psychiatric facility instead in a hole somewhere in prison, steeping in darkness, lost and lonely and talking to ghosts.

maggie still visits, sometimes, and she’s thankful for someone. her parents have not bothered to come and spend time with her in here, she thinks they’re trying to forget she exists altogether. is she better off without them? she doesn’t know, but she knows that at the very least, they are at a semblance of peace.

tears spring to her eyes as she watches maggie apparate opposite side of the room. she can almost hear the sound of her voice calling out to her, though albeit jarring in and of itself. it’s distant, but she can make out the sounds of her sister’s laughter, the smell of her favorite perfume, the gentle warmth of her touch as they clasp hands together.

“why didn’t this fix me, maggie?” 

she asks, speaking to what anyone would else would believe to be the air. maybe she was crazy. maybe she’d gone and lost all of her marbles in this situation, and she’d be stuck in here for eternity. she was doing better - the doctors all said so, but she couldn’t get past this one singular hurdle. she wanted to be fixed. cured. put back together with tape and glue if it were possible. she killed the man who took her sister, who took countless lives from not only her, but members of the community.

the gentle warmth of maggie’s hand on her shoulder is a sensation she wishes she could feel, and she wraps her arms around herself in an effort to feel something. rocking back and forth on the mattress on the floor, the brunette openly sobs into an otherwise silent space.

she is broken. something is missing.

“juliette.” 

a sound at the door, another voice permeating through the fuzziness of her brain, calling out to a void that holds her hostage. 

“time for your medication.” 

the brunette shifts her position slightly, brushes away the tears - unwilling to let them see her broken down and lost. and stands. she makes her way to the door and takes the small paper cup and downs the mood stabilizers and other prescriptions they’ve forced into her hands.

soon they’ll start working, and she won’t feel so lost.

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thanks to a bribed security guard and a low level beat cop she’s four hundred dollars in the hole, but in her possession are the autopsy report and crime scene photos of her sister’s murder. juliette pulls her hair up into a messy bun and begins to spread them out across her desk, not at all shocked by the harsh nature of mutilation in which the photos depict her sister’s corpse. juliette is a horror aficionado, she’s taking this in stride like she would if she were watching a horror movie detective try and solve a case. tucking back a strand of bangs, she turns on the small lamp on her desk and starts to sort through the information. first - she reads the photocopied autopsy report. talks of multiple stab wounds, body mutilation, organ removal, blood drain - they all depict that this man is trying to accomplish something with his kills. her first thought is sacrifice - though most wouldn’t think to go there. but from the way the body was treated, it shows that he had something to prove - maybe it was to himself, or someone else, but he was going for a specific reason, this wasn’t just a kill for the sake of it. along with the fact that this was obviously not his first - she doesn’t have the information from the other cases aside from a series of newspaper clippings she’s stolen from the local library, but there is definitely a ritualistic nature to the way this man approaches death. a small sigh, she taps her finger along the desk as she reads, just to keep her grounded in the moment, not allowing her mind to wander the possibilities of all of this. a thought pops into her mind and she has to actively focus to try not to let it worm it’s way inside of her, to take root and force her to think about this personally rather than simply logically. did she suffer? shaking her head, juliette grabbed a series of the photocopied crime scene photos, spreading them in a patterned array so they were easier to see the big picture all at once. her finger traces down one of the pieces of paper, and a single tear cascades down her cheek, only for her to fist it away. "no." she says aloud. "there is no time for such emotions." she spends hours pouring over the images and text before eventually dragging herself to bed. that night is the first of many in which she dreams, and they’re directly related to the case. she’s young, now, somewhere in the realm of being five or six years old. there is laughter coming from the person beside her - her best friend, tracey. the two are wandering through the forests that they were specifically told not to enter - something they did quite often. she remembers this fondly, spending time with her young friend before they grew up, and she moved across town. c’mon, julie! the girl shouts, and juliette spots something in the distance, obviously going towards it. in the middle of the forest, there is a small clearing, full of flowers. race you to the middle! it’s a beautiful sight, one that she will remember and likely visit again - except for the macabre vision that is now burning itself into her retinas. laying there, stripped bare of any clothing, is a body of a young female. she is posed in a specific manner, laying in a space that has been cleared - obvious by the signs of freshly mowed grass, but the flowers that surround her corpse are still beautiful in nature, despite their harsh sight against them. the sound of her young self screaming is enough to jar her awake, causing her hand to press against her chest, fighting for breath, on the edge of an anxiety attack. with a shaky hand she reaches for her medicine, popping a pill into her mouth and swallowing from a bottle of water, impatiently waiting for it to begin working. this becomes a daily occurrence, images slowly shifting from her memories - but the core vision is there. this is not something she dreamt up, not a fantasy placed into her mind by the inner workings of her brain and some projected media. no. this is something that happened to her. she tries to remember back that far, and it’s fuzzy, simply being comforted by mr. halston, crying tears into his blazer while tracey is in his arms, doing quite the same. it’ll be okay, darling. he croons, trying to calm her. you’ll forget about this soon enough. and as he expected she did. but now it was back and raring it’s ugly head with a vengeance, if only she could figure out just what it meant - other than the fact that she obviously witnessed one of these sites before. the location was unclear, though, and for the life of her she couldn’t remember the specific forest, but she knew this meant something. and with her lips to god’s ears, she was going to figure what it meant soon enough, she hopes.

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she’s been up for three days straight at this point. popping adderall and chugging energy drinks to continue the high she’s been on. who needs sleep when she’s this focused, this wired. she could solve the case herself at this rate, if she could just find the first piece of the puzzle. her hair is up in a messy bun, mostly knotted and unbrushed, having gone without care for the past few days - and she hasn’t showered, but those are trivial things at this point, they’re not going to help her achieve her goal of figuring out who was behind maggie’s murder. pieces of paper with scribbles written on them are tossed around her desk and on the floor, there is a series of leftover fast food containers littering the floor and nightstand beside her bed. she only remembers to eat when her stomach starts to cramp so bad that she feels like she’s dying. and even then, it’s only enough to get the pain to stop, the rest goes untouched and left for small bugs to eventually feast on, should they find their way inside the apartment. jules. the brunette hears a voice, angela’s? no, the pitch is off. it’s softer, more kind-hearted. but she’s too busy pacing back and forth in her bedroom, muttering to herself and using her hands as emphasis to nobody but herself as she begins to seem like she’s going to wear down the floorboards and fall through to the apartment beneath her own. you need sleep, jules. this time when the voice comes, she scoffs. completely disregarding her mind’s attempt at trying to calm her down and put some distance between her and this rabbit hole she’s slowly falling down into. it’s not until she sees the apparition appear before her that she stops in her tracks. there, sitting on her bed, plain as day, is margaret ruth kincaid, cross legged and looking as if she’s in a hell of a better state than juliette currently is. “.....maggie?” she says, and tears immediately start to spring in the corner of her eyes, spilling down tired cheeks. she goes in for a hug, tries to pull maggie into her but is met with dead air, nothing but the silhouette of a lost loved one. the sound of maggie’s voice continues, but she is no longer there to be perceived. you need to sleep, jules. “how can i sleep…..” juliette starts, now openly weeping in the middle of her bedroom to a ghost that does not exist anywhere other than inside her own head. “how can i sleep when you’re gone. nothing’s been right since you left us, maggie. how am i supposed to go on without you?” at some point, she does pass out, and when she awakes, she’s tucked into bed and the room is in a much better state than she was earlier. she’s going to have to thank angela at some point. one would think that she would reconsider her choices that got her to the point of seeing ghosts, but for a moment of peace and the sound of margaret’s voice, she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

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> juliette has developed a series of anger issues after dealing with the abuse from her mother. she tends to let things pile up on her for far too long before she eventually bursts and it’s usually in a fit of rage. people have remarked her as ‘destructive’ in nature, and she has a tendency to bite people’s heads off. this instance is a lot worse when she’s coming down from the influence of adderall.

> juliette’s stage career could have been great, had she not completely busted her ass in the middle of a recital because she was too high to focus and lost sight of the end of the stage. her accident resulted a meniscus tear, the most common of knee injuries. she would be able to dance again, eventually, but she’s had phantom pain for the longest time and that’s what led to her quitting dance altogether.

>  anxiety and depression take a heavy toll on juliette’s well-being. she is on medication that is meant to keep them stable - but for the most part, she doesn’t think they’re working. the feelings that were supposed to be gone have been rearing their ugly heads again and causing her to retreat into herself. the most notable relationship, with angela, has suffered slightly because she can’t be bothered to spend as much time with her friend as she used to.

> juliette has worked a series of odd jobs over her years in an attempt to make enough money for nursing school. those include a waitress for two weeks. a clerk at city hall. a 911 dispatcher. delivery person for her mother’s feed store. pet store cashier and local piercer at ink’d. her favorite was obviously putting holes in other people’s bodies for money. who knew that could be a job! but seriously. she’s worked her butt off to get herself through nursing school, because her parents didn’t care to provide enough for her classes.

> juliette uses tattoos as a form of self-harm, just in a more beautiful option. she endures sitting for hours to get a piece of art printed on her body instead of self-harming, and it does wonders. at the end, she’s almost always happy with the result. currently, she has the intention of getting a series of random tattoos with little to no meaning. her most intricate is obviously the back piece she plans on getting at some point in the near future, when she saves up enough money.

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“um… guys.” she’s just walked into the bathroom after a serious girls night. drinks, edibles, you name it they got themselves into it. juliette barely remembers what happened when she blinks a couple times and calls out to the other two girls that are coming alive in the living room. “why is the bathroom mirror calling me a whore?” in her own handwriting, nonetheless. reaching for the obviously used lipstick on the counter, the sound of her friend’s voices ring into earshot.

“you wrote it last night,” comes angela’s voice. and then the blonde follows. “you thought it was hilarious.” juliette definitely feels like she should remember what went on, but maybe she got most wasted than what was intended. “did nobody think to take away the expensive lipstick?” she asks, holding out a mostly used up tube in her hands as she walks out of the bathroom, looking over towards her two friends.

“we tried, you threw a fit. only way to shut you up was to give you, and i quote ‘the perfect shade’ to write your slur in.” walking over towards the trash, juliette drops the tube of lipstick into it and collapses onto the couch beside where the other girls were sitting. “i’m never drinking that much again,” she states, to which both girls let a laugh escape their lips, a look of ‘yeah, right’ etched across their faces.

“you guys suck,” she says, reaching for a pillow and smacking them both with it on either side before shifting off the couch and hurling herself towards the kitchen. “i’m making breakfast, and i’m not sharing.” the sounds of them bickering between each other fills the room and juliette feels at ease, despite the ravenous hunger and terrible headache. this was her happy place. “you better make us some food or we’re gonna post those pictures on myspaaaaaace.” comes a sing song voice to which juliette lets a groan escape her lips. “fine, but i’m using the good bacon!”

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juliette often finds pieces of paper like this scattered around the house. her mother’s written journals - ones that let her feelings escape onto paper in hopes that she will forget the pain that’s currently a permanent fixture in her heart. this one is not like the others, though, and juliette is fighting the urge to rip it to pieces once she starts reading.

may 18th. 

i went to the psychiatrist today, they recommended a support group. like i’m supposed to go and spew my problems in front of a bunch of strangers, i can’t even tell the people closest to me what’s going on in my head. its caused a strain in my marriage - jeremiah and i fight like cat and dog sometimes and i know that it’s my fault.

i’m trying, my god am i trying, but how am i supposed to get over the feeling that maybe, with juliettes actions lately, that they took the wrong child away from me? maggie was pure light, all smiles and warmth and happiness - juliette is something different altogether. there are shadows in her heart and a perpetual rain cloud that seems to follow her. i know it’s my fault - i’ve almost entirely abandoned her, but she looks so much like her father that i can’t stand to be around her.

it’s like i can’t stand her for what he did to me, and i know that’s not her fault, but i can’t get over the resemblance. she’s even named after his mother - something i had no part in, because i was high on drugs when he signed the birth certificate. i had wanted to name her something different, like madelaine - a name that has been in my family for years, but no, now i’m stuck with this constant reminder of my past.

it’s not her fault - she didn’t ask for all of this to be placed upon her shoulders, but i can’t shake my anger, my disgust, the emotions that well up inside of me when i think of the abuse i suffered at the hands of hunter delvonni. i’m grateful that jeremiah adopted her, changed her name, made her his own. he took us both in when we were down and out and i had lost all hope in humanity. but even now i feel guilty of what i put him through.

maybe they didn’t take the wrong child, maybe they took the wrong person altogether. maybe it was me that should have found refuge in a shallow grave surrounded by peonies.

she doesn’t know if her mother has found out that she’s been reading her journals in an attempt to get inside that trap of a mind - when she goes silent, the world goes cold around her and she won’t let anyone in.

tears spring to juliette’s eyes and she wants to scream. the written words repeating in her mind.

maybe they took the wrong child.

my god, what had she done to deserve this?

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cause if there’s trouble in this town, you know she’s gonna find it.

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knocking on the door of ran’s apartment, juliette shifts her weight from one foot to the other, impatiently. it’s been an absolute hellion of a day and she just wants to hang out with her friend and relax. she promised him drinks and dinner, and from the looks of it - he was still getting ready by the time she arrived. reaching up to comb her fingers through her hair, she leans against the side of the wall adjacent his door and waits.

a few moments later, ran opens the door, and she’s ushering herself inside of his place to get a final look at the outfit he’s managed tonight, showing approval. 

“you look fantastic!” 

she says, clasping her hands together before gesturing towards the bathroom. 

“i gotta pee, but after that we have to go! i picked out the perfect restaurant for us tonight. s’all on me, since i’m forcing you to hang out. the night is all planned out and whatnot. i outdid myself, if i do say so..” 

she goes to use the facilities and once she’s finished the brunette comes up, having touched up her make up ad fluffed her hair.

grabbing onto ran’s hand, she pulls him out the door and towards her vehicle, driving the short distance to find the place in question, a nice little italian restaurant - so they could get something into their stomachs before going bar hopping for the remainder of the evening. 

“so,” 

she starts, chewing on a piece of bread once they were seated, glancing over in @deigrxtia‘s direction with a small smile etched across her features.

“tell me, what’s been going on with you.” 

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they’re laying on the couch, the sound of the television is on in the background, but in reality, the duo are mostly sitting in silence, just enjoying each other’s company. juliette had just fixed them a big lunch of pot roast and vegetables, and they’re both in a little bit of a food coma at current times. shifting slightly, juliette reaches onto the coffee table for a package of cigarettes, pulling one of the tobacco sticks and sparking it up with her trusty bic lighter.

she’s been in her own head for far too long, and that’s not a good thing for anyone involved, clearing her throat after the first puff of the cigarette, she looks over to vincent. “vin….” she starts, waiting until he perks up enough to show that she has his full attention. when he glances over towards her direction, she continues to speak.

“i need you to promise me something.”

there is an obvious look of confusion etched across vincent’s features, but he doesn’t strike back just yet, allowing her to continue in the time and space she sees fit. the brunette takes a short breath, calming her nerves before admitting something that has been on her mind for what she would only believe is far too long to have been kept to herself.

“when we find out who hurt maggie, i want you to help me.” there’s a kinked brow, and he appears to be curious as to what she’s asking him to do in this situation. “I….” she starts, gathering up the courage to admit something for the first time, maybe even to herself. “i want you to help me kill the person.” her voice is soft, like someone else is listening in on the conversation and could hear her, but gathering strength, she continues.

“i don’t know if i could do it on my own…..but justice needs to be served, somehow, someway…i just….i can’t live in a world knowing the man who hurt my sister is just alive out there somewhere. so…would you be so kind as to assist me? i know it’s not like…an everyday ask, but i’m desperate at this point vincent.” she’s turned to face him at this point, the pleading in her voice obvious enough in this moment of time as she glances towards @deigrxtia.

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> juliette has had a problem with drugs since she was a teenager. the typical rebellion stage of thirteen, she started smoking weed and it eventually led to other substances. partially due to numb the pain of being second best in her mother’s eyes - maggie was quickly becoming the star of the show as she aged gracefully. 

> eventually, she tried cocaine - offered to her at a high-school party, and she became addicted to the high that it gave. she would act as if she never partook in the substance before to get more of it at parties, always hidden in the corner with the other drug-addled teens. eventually this led to theft and such - stealing money from her parents in order to purchase more of the highly addictive drug.

> when she almost got kicked off the lacrosse team and drugs fucked up her performance durig dance causing her to fall from the stage and bust up her knee, she tried desperately to kick the habit. her mother almost thought about putting her in rehab, but the utter shame from an already disappointing daughter would have been too much for her to bare.

> she got clean when she graduated high-school, no longer wanting to deal with the abuse of drugs in her life. her parents were thrilled and it was almost as if she was starting over a new leaf with them, but it was short lived with the looming problem of maggie’s disappearance.

> while she almost relapsed during her miscarriage, juliette stayed strong and did not abuse drugs during this time. she constantly has the urge to go and fall back into those days, but thus far she’s managed to keep a steady hand.

> prescription adhd medicine is a different breed. she is currently abusing them to both help her stay awake for longer periods of time ( a habit she picked up in nursing school when given the pill for the first time ) and to just get through the day. When she’s coming down from them she can seem a little twitchy.

[sersh]

MARGARET QUALLEY Photographed by Rebekah Campbell for ES Magazine, May 11th 2023

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blood is beginning to seep through the fabric of her flannel, so she takes gentle care to strip herself of her top layer of clothing in order to get a better look at the wound. now that she’s out of harm’s way, sitting in the front seat of her truck, the brunette pulls her shirt up slightly so that she can assess the wound. bright red and violent, the wound left by a grazing bullet wasn’t how she intended on starting her day, but it had to be dealt with, nonetheless.

she let a deep sigh leave her lips as she turned the key in the ignition to start up her truck, only to be met with a sputtering engine. “not today, c’mon now,” she says, hitting the key once, twice before finally on a third try, the automobile roars to life, a slight vibration in the steering wheel that signalled she needs to get her vehicle checked soon. 

but alas, she is off towards cara’s house, chewing on the inside flesh of her lip as a way to try and distract from the pain that is working it’s way through her system. reaching for the radio, she turns it on for any sort of distraction from her brain, going into a sense of auto-pilot as she drives the short distance to her friend’s house.

with one hand on the wheel, and the other hand on her blackberry, after wiping the streaks of blood onto her jeans, she sends out a quick text over to cara letting her know that she was coming, just to be safe. when she arrives, the blonde is ushering her inside as quickly as possible.

“so….well….here goes nothin’!” she lifts the bottom of her shirt to show @deigrxtia the damage, waiting for her friend to wince or swear, some indication of how bad the wound looked. “think you can help a girl out here?” .

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> juliette is absolutely known for talking with her hands. she is very big on emphasis and gesturing when she speaks, as if she was a mime in her past life. the statement ‘if your hands were tied behind your back you wouldn’t be able to talk’ is something that has been said in reference to her. this is an absolutely true statement.

> shortly after her sister’s disappearance, juliette suffered from a miscarriage due to stress. she and her then on and off again boyfriend chose to part ways at that time because of the situation, and partially because he didn’t know how to deal with the emotions that were welling up inside of her and threatening to explode out at any moment.

> tried to work at the same diner alongside angela but couldn’t hack it. two weeks in she ended up quitting and going back to working for her mother, when she was in the middle of nursing school. her hard work paid off, though, and she eventually got her degree and was set to make a chunk more change than she would have waitressing all day.

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she walks into the diner in a huff, cursing under her breath before heading up to the counter, giving a finger to the remnants of a speeding vehicle.

“when i find that man, i’m going to grab a razor and shave him bald.” she says, in reference to the guy who just hit her car and sped off into the town. granted, her pick-up was already a little worse for wear, but it was still her baby! 

it had feelings! 

leaning onto the counter, she spies toby coming from the back and the grimace that is spread across her face is there no longer, and instead a smile takes it’s place.

“toby!” 

she says, gesturing so that she was willing to come over and talk with her. her friendship with the redhead was still a bit recent, but as far as gardiner’s resident’s went, she was one of the good ones, that much was for sure. attempting to blow a strand of hair out of her face by the time toby approaches, there’s a soft chuckle that escapes her lips, and she gives up on the failed attempt, rather grabbing the piece and tucking it behind her ear instead.

“i am in need of a plate of cheese fries…like…stat, and like when i say cheesy, i mean definitely the cheesier, the better.” 

she says, a slight pleading look now spread across the features of her face. but now she leans in, speaking in a hushed voice, crooking her finger at @deigrxtia to gesture for her to come closer. 

“and….maybe a lil’ something special. if you catch my drift. you uh...know anyone ‘round these parts that could hook a girl up? i got cash on me.”

[guiltyfilthysoularchive]

woodridgehollow​:

Six o clock bust had finally reared its head. The sun still sat high in the blanched sky and pressed it’s clingy palms onto the diner. Angela bustled like she always did, a hundred and ten percent energy fueled long legs back and forth across Gene’s with determination. Denis had come in a little after the lunch rush and made himself at home in the far corner booth that was always Angie’s. It was cooler in that corner than in the whole place, the lack of a huge bay window allowing the sun to slow cook the Formica table was a blessing if anything. Work had been a pain and dragged that morning and his left ass cheek had bore the brunt of being bucked off a young steed. At least he could sink away into his horror novel and sip free root beers until he felt like leaving.

There had been an exchange between the three when Juliette arrived. A smile and small wave from angela who motioned to the table, and Denis who felt a half smirk touch his lips as the brunette slid into the booth with him. He glanced at her over the edge of his novel before returning to the pages before him, there was a climax building and he’d be damned if he missed it or waited any longer. There had been a little exchange, a hey — how’s your day, did you get anyone in trouble? The works. His brows furrowed as he shifted in his seat, upper body coming to rest against the table top itself to study the words before him. Juliette’s question makes his dark brows furrow as he mutters under his breath, “always.”

Angie spins on her dirty sneakers and finally finds a moment of peace as she pumps her breaks. Sputtering to a stop at the table holding her friends and hearing Juliette’s shenanigans make her hands rest on her hips. Brows are high as she begins to untie her apron, lips curling as she looks to the hot street. “I doubt anyone’s gonna cartwheel naked in a hundred and four degree weather. “ she can see the roll of Denis’ eyes as he slowly lowers Juliette’s hand outta his vision, gaze flickering to look up at Angie with a knowing expression. He had a silent joy in bugging Juliette by ignoring her, and why he insisted Angela would never understand. “Yeah, I’m free finally. I even convinced Connor to let me have tomorrow off, or well this is a thank you for filling in for Danielle since she had to take her mom to the doctor.” A quick jump of her brows and she’s sitting the apron behind her on the counter.

A spark of excitement settles in her tired nerves, a delighted expression stealing Angela’s soft features. Tall form leaning to peer out the window behind their booth, she spies the SUV waiting patiently on them. “Hell yeah, I’m itching to forget about today. Let me just get my bag.” She’s quick to turn on her heels and vanish into the kitchen once more. Denis can feel a slow sigh slip from his lips as he closes his book, tucking the pocket novel into his jeans. “If you guys are going out for a while be careful alright? Sheriff said a county over a kid was found on the highway. They mistook em for roadkill.” Dark brows arch high on his face as he rises from the booth, a slight stretch being given as Angela appears once more. A smile on her lips as Denis bumps her shoulder, “ Make sure Juliette doesn’t go to jail alright?” A Pat is given to Jules’ head and a shit eating grin sits on Denis mouth as he waves to Connor and proceeds out the diner door. They were a strange collection weren’t they? All some form of wild that only woodridge could breed. Angie’s dark eyes light up as she extends a hand to Juliette, “ let’s get outta dodge.”

juliette snorts out a laugh when the mention of jail is brought up, and she’s sticking her tongue out over at denis. “they’d have to catch me, first,” she says, flipping her hair back and pretending like she was some sort of big fucking deal. granted, she’d never been caught by the cops during any sort of shenanigans she’s gotten herself into just yet, but there is always a first time for everything, she supposed. 

linking her arm through angela’s, the two walk out of the diner and towards the vehicle as she pulls out the keys and unlocks the doors, opening them and turning on the air conditioning as soon as she sets foot inside the vehicle. ah, cool air. a luxury in and of it’s own right. climbing into the driver’s seat, she glances over at angela who is climbing into the seat beside her, and placing her bag onto the floor.

“anywhere special you wanna go?”

 she asks, a tilt of her head as she’s reaching up to adjust the rearview mirror, which had obviously gotten bumped somewhere along the way.

“cause i was thinking that we should go to the movies or something tonight. see if they finally pulled their heads out of their ass and grabbed something decent to play over on the big screens.” 

there wasn’t anything good playing at the drive in normally, but she’d rather go and have something to do than sit on her ass and wallow in self-pity about how she’ll never leave this place, at least not alive, that is.

“i don’t have to have the car back before tomorrow, my mom said. she’s taking the night off for herself so she’s just relaxing at home for a while. i am supposed to invite you over for family dinner tomorrow night, though. dad’s smoking some brisket, i think? anyway , it’s going to be good eatings and it’s only right to share with my bestie. we’ll probably have leftovers for the week.”