#woodridgehollow

[guiltyfilthysoularchive]

“you ever wonder what it’s like, living someplace else?” juliette muses, glancing up at denis through darkened eyelashes. he’s not paying attention at all, and instead is focused on the book that he’s reading. she had slid into his booth at the diner while waiting for angie to finish her shift, and had gotten a few words of conversation out of him during that time, but it seems he’s too far gone in the text of the old and tattered novel he’s got in front of him to speak.

“ello! earth to denis. the aliens have landed and are asking for you to take them to their leader.....lord would you look at there, there are naked ladies parading up and down main street! look at those cartwheels!.....i’m going to steal the remainder of your food and start a food fight.”

juliette waves a hand in front of his face, and eventually gives up, stealing a few of his fries just as angie comes out of the kitchen and pulls off her apron.

“shift done?” she asks, a tilt of her head as she glances up towards the clock, watching the little hand tick over to ten minutes after five. “you wan’ head for a drive?” she asks, having stolen her mother’s vehicle for the night - the newly used SUV her father had gotten her mother for her forty-fifth birthday just two months prior in juliette’s possession. she’d promised not to scratch the paint job and been handed the keys.

though they never crossed the lines, the girls had a habit of driving up towards the city limits sign and parking there for a while, trying to picture what life would be like when they finally got the courage to up and escape for good. things in the town had gone tits up, moreso than usual, and she could tell that angie was almost bursting at the seams - much like herself in the past few months. juliette had squirreled away some money from working for her mother.

she wondered if it would ever be enough, or if she was just fooling herself.

clearing her mind, the brunette calls to @woodridgehollow, now standing in front of the exit of gene’s diner, gesturing towards the vehicle. “let’s go!”

[notladylikes]

mackenzie’s got a flashlight held up in her teeth, using it to illuminate the lock that she is currently picking. denis is at her back, being the lookout, for once giving her the chance to be the jack-of-all-trades badass. tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she leans in a bit, a tilt of her head until she hears the sound of the faint click of the lock coming undone.

pulling the flashlight out of her mouth, she squeals - softly, and grabs denis’ hand to pull him closer into the shadows of the abandoned house. the church said the family up and left, that they were going to rent the house out to a good christian family that would move into town. mackenzie and denis both thought that was bullshit. opening the door, she ducks inside, noting that there wasn’t even a layer of dust on the belongings left behind.

mackenzie lets go of denis’ hand and starts to wander through the rooms, trying to ascertain the reason why this family up and fled woodridge, without a second glance in the rearview mirror. if she was smart, she would up and do the same, but her mother was sick and she needed to take care of her. the church said god would heal her mother - and with beverly abernathy getting weaker by the day, mackenzie knew they were just full of shit whenever they said something.

she was getting sick of having to listen to the preacher’s sermons.

“denis!” 

she calls out, unsure where he is in the house currently, glancing down on the floor. she switches the flashlight to the blacklight function ( a nifty little trick she picked up from watching forensic shows on television ) and her eyes widened at the amount of blood that was left in the midst of floorboards. obviously cleaned with bleach, but still there were remnants left behind. the sound of footsteps approaching noted @woodridgehollow’s entrance into the room.

“i don’t think they left town willingly....” 

[b4rren]

maybe we can share one. (From hope!)

@woodridgehollow / accepting.

WOULD PROBABLY BE THE BETTER IDEA. maybe she's seen him before: perched on the curb just outside the gas station, wrapping the other half of a donut in a rough brown napkin to save for later. ( later always comes when it's hardened so much he has to soak it in coffee for it to even be edible. ) "yeah [ ... ] okay." he props open the door, fiddles with the piece of wax paper between his fingers. "uh, you can choose. i'm not picky."

[philomelia]

he takes a sip of the drink with an ease that she's never had. when she drinks, it is with a wince and a grimace, as if she can't believe the venomous taste of it in her mouth (but she likes the feeling of being drunk: she is not better than the other afternoon - drunks that weave throughout the bar). " i'd become immediately power hungry if i had any position of real power. i know that about myself at least, though. most people go their entire lives without that sort of self - realisation. " she tugs the drink back to herself once he had taken a gulp of it. " what do you think? you should order me your favourite drink. since i let you taste my ol' familiar. " she gestures the bartender over and waits for the other to order, wondering for another long moment how exactly he could repay her. " d'ya live around here? "

RAIN it did. even for such a dry town most of the time, they never seemed short of rain. even he can feel how his own eyes light up as the drink is ushered his way (its the umbrella that definitely sells it). a finger gentle pokes at the decoration before he bring the rim to his lips, ignoring the very straw designed for it. cutting his eyes behind them he can spy the throng of people weaving and humming and just softly the nerves in his own body press into his skin. here he’d believed he had finally conquered his anxiety when thrust into a crowd. brows raise as he gives her a grin, “ don’t go getting power hungry. after all with this much muscle at your disposal; you gotta think big right? ” a finger taps his temple before he shrugs another drink being taken.

[fuckedprophet-arch]

get to know the author

Name : L or Lake or Trash possum

Pronouns : she / they

Preference of communication: carrier pigeon. I’m kidding but discord hands down. Don’t get me wrong tumblr IMs aren’t hell but I prefer the interface discord offers and more like having group convos or servers.

Most active muse(s) : Dallas right now, if not Dallas it’s def my kids on my multi for my horror series ( woodridgehollow ) or my bby girl slayer Elizabeth ( thefair) and sadly my fantasy multi has been on hiatus but I love them all ( beycndthem )

Experience / how many years : I’ve been on this odd hole in the wall for like 12 years?

Best experience: oh my god my best friends. I know that sounds so generic but it’s honestly true? The people I’ve met have all been wonderful and while not every ride on this site has been wonderful I wouldn’t change anything for the world.

Rp pet peeves : when people judge others for having several blogs ( like why do YOU care? It ain’t you), when people refuse to communicate and I mean in the sense of actually talking shit out to the full extent ( half stories only breed irrational behaviors), witch hunts end point, fc collecting oof that one really posses me off or when someone only wants you to ship with but doesn’t bother with your female muses, yeah I’m a cranky old bitch sue me.

Plots or memes : BOTH! I adore plots and cross overs and story lines and building universes around our muses, but memes are such good foot holds for that first climb into what we can build together!

Long or short replies: ugh what’s a short reply? Don’t know her. It’s incredibly hard for me to write a short reply. I’m sorry it just is so medium to long

Are you like your muse(s): HA! We’re both dumbasses and love books if that’s what you mean? I have several muses that have seeds of my personality scattered in them and for Dallas a lot of his loss of faith resembles my own as well as feeling like I’ve been on the outer edge of the world for a long time and finally finding good people has helped me merge more into their world. Not to mention his anger reflects a lot of the rage I felt growing up and dealing with expectations and watching my youth be stripped from me due to uncontrollable variables that rocked my parents' lives and in turn forced me to grow up fast and be an adult. I have several muses that deal with different aspects of my emotions and have similar ties to what I went through. None are exact but branch from the same tree. So yeah me and jolly green giant are similar, in some ways but not all. I for one don’t have daddy issues ( I say as I make all my muses hate their father ).

Tagged by : @cahroline 😘💕

Tagging : @divineate , @americanedpsycho , @medicnal , @medicbled , and @notladylikes

[notladylikes]

[notladylikes]

sasha can see the lake clear from her back porch, a little ways off to the water. she sometimes dipped her toes in it after a long day, but the sun was high in the sky and the heat was god awful, and yet, someone was out there, pole in hand. not many people in this town partake in the act of fishing, even moreso since the old folks all but up and passed away, leaving her generation and the one that comes after. 

tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, she grabs two water bottles and heads out to the small dock, situated just a hundred or so feet beyond her property line, careful to avoid the sticker grass with her bare-feet. 

probably should have put shoes on, but she didn’t really seem to mind the grass. it’s soft beneath her feet, and she doesn’t manage to prick herself in the process, an act of pure coincidence, she’s quite certain.

upon approaching the man, who turned out to be none other than shane ellsie, she smiles wide and leans her chest against his back, planting her head on top of his. “you catch anythin’ or you just starin’ at the water?” she says, leaning her weight against him for a few moments before ruffling his hair and sitting down on the dock beside him. the blonde’s legs hang off the dock and she places a bottle of water down beside him, nudging it into @woodridgehollow’s peripheral view. 

“how long you been out here? you could’a stopped by the house, i would’ve fixed you a sandwich or somethin’ to take out here with you.” she says, placing her hand above her eyes to shield her vision from the incoming rays of sunlight from up above. “been too long since i done seen you ‘round. i know you keep to yourself, but that don’t mean you gots to be a stranger.” 

[guiltyfilthysoularchive]

they’re sitting in the cab of her pick-up truck, enjoying a package of sour punch straws she’d stolen from her mother’s break room at the feed store. juliette’s feet are up on the dash, and the sound of the radio can be heard belting ( albeit a bit scratchy ) through the truck’s sound system. like the truck itself, it could use an update, an upgrade, but neither was likely to happen.

kicking her feet to the beat of the song, juliette glances over at an entranced angela, who is singing along wholeheartedly even though she clearly does not know the words. this brings a laugh to juliette’s lips, fluttering up from the confines of her chest, causing her head to tilt back in sheer happiness.

times like this, she didn’t think about the past, about maggie, about wanting to leave her family behind and start somewhere new. she lives for these moments, full of carefree wonder and warm bliss. the sun is starting to set and she knows they have to head home soon - nobody wants to be out in woodridge hollow after the sun sets and darkness settles in. reluctantly, she pops another sour punch straw into her mouth and chews before removing her feet from the dash and settling them onto the floor.

angie’s hand reaches for the dial to turn down the radio, glancing at her watch before gesturing towards the setting sun. “time to go?” she asks, a sullen look spread across her features. “fraid so,” juliette replies, turning the truck’s engine over. it takes a second, but it sparks to life and they’re treading the waters back into the town’s limits.

until next time. maybe they’ll get the courage to cross the line next time.

[guiltyfilthysoularchive]

she’s not a big drinker, for the most part, but instead of wallowing in her and angela’s shared apartment, on the one night her friend is out and about without her, juliette decides that it’s best for her to put her mind to something, and that something is drinking. she doesn’t dress up much, so her appearance is modest at best, but it’s an upgrade from the usual jean shorts and t-shirt combo she throws on when she’s delivering feed or the scrubs she dons at work.

running her fingers through her hair, one hand pressed into the back pocket of her pants, the brunette sidesteps a couple walking on main street and heads over towards gabe’s bar, where she can easily find herself something decent to sip on for the night. the air is cool and crisp around her, not enough for a jacket, but enough to send a small chill into her bones, a stark difference from the mind-numbing heat during the daytime hours.

opening the door to gabe’s, there’s a smile on her face as she enters, waving a hand to some of the local regulars in town before making a beeline towards the bar. she presses a finger to her chin, surveying the options available before making a bold choice. tonight, she goes vodka cranberry. whilst waiting on her drink, she looks off to the left to spot william westfield off in a corner by himself, enjoying a drink in his own right.

when handed her own drink, she leans in to order another of the type of beer william is drinking, making sure to start somewhat of a tab for tonight when she slides over her card. collecting said drink, juliette wanders over towards where he is sitting.

“do my eyes deceive me, william westfield, in the flesh?” she says, holding out the beer as though it were an offering for disturbing @woodridgehollow’s peace and quiet. there’s a wide smile set across her visage as he takes it, before she takes a small sip of her own drink, delighting in the flavors that hit her tongue as soon as she does so. “guess you got a night off from the radio station? that mean elsie’s running things on her own?” she asks, a tilt of her head as another sip goes down the gullet.

[guiltyfilthysoularchive]

📸 

[guiltyfilthysoularchive]

shit. shit. shit. 

she says, huffing a breath as she presses the button on the elevator once, twice, three times before the doors finally shut and she’s started the ascent towards the ward she was stationed in for the time being. pinning her nametag onto her scrubs, the brunette reaches her hands up into her hair whilst pulling a ponytail from her wrist, fastening the updo before glancing down at her smart-watch. 

the fact that she was going to make it with minutes to spare was both a blessing and a curse. which would she have preferred? she wasn’t sure.

a slow escape of breath as the doors open and she takes note of how busy it seems - not too many people walking around and there were no ongoing alarms. the board was full, but not overly so. walking around the station’s desk, she collapsed into one of the rolling chairs only to see katherine giving her a look of ‘you’re late’. 

“i’m so sorry,” she mouths, before spinning in the chair to answer an incoming phone call. “nurse’s station,” she says, listening to the person on the other end of the phone before a panicked look crosses over her features. she had no idea who this patient was that they were referring to and eagerly glanced over the board behind them for some sort of a clue. 

“mrs….hargrove! just…just a second.” she says, watching as @woodridgehollow places the patient’s file in front of her, giving her an out to the otherwise stressful situation. thank the heavens above. she’s going to make a mental note….or maybe a physical one in her phone, to buy that woman a drink after their very long incoming day shift was up sometime later tonight. 

“yes, the results came in clear....and absolutely, ma’am, you’re welcome to come within visiting hours to see him, yes...you’re welcome....have a nice day!”

hanging up the phone, she blew out a much needed breath. that was close.

[guiltyfilthysoularchive]

her fingers press against the tattered piece of paper that is stapled to the telephone pole, taking a moment of solace for herself. tears prick at the back of her eyes and she forces them, along with all of her other emotions, back down into the depths of her belly behind what she hoped would remain hidden. the sound of a door opening, a tiny bell jingling in time, causes her to glance up and pull her hand away from the paper, and she shifts her position slightly, trying to mask the emotions that fleetingly spread across her face.

“hi, donna!” she says, walking towards the gesturing woman who is welcoming her into the motel’s front office. shoving a hand into her bag, she fiddles around for a moment before finding the envelope of money, grasping it between her fingers and placing it on the front desk. “sorry i’m late, had some car trouble,” she says, gesturing back to her dad’s old pick-up. though it was on it’s last legs for sure, a gift her father had given her when she turned sixteen ( who in turn had gotten it from his father when he had his firstborn child ), she wouldn’t be opposed to the old thing going to greener pastures. those being the scrap yard.

tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear, she watches as donna rounds the counter and goes to type something on the computer before accepting the payment. 

“you seen marcus around?”

she asks, a tilt of her head towards the row of rooms just on the other side of the door leading around the building. her mother had been paying for her uncle to stay there after he got out of prison, month by month basis, when she should have been saving that money for a rainy day. they’d all gotten on her case about it, but she was stubborn as all hell.  

“or is he hidin’ out again?” 

she asks, leaning forward to watch @woodridgehollow enter the payment into the file. at least that errand was done for the day.

[guiltyfilthysoularchive]

her mother runs the local feed store in town, which means she’s always running out to the ranches to deliver food for the local livestock and today is not unlike any other. the almost summer heat is thick and heavy, blanketing the air around it. juliette presses a hand to her forehead, wiping off droplets of sweat that have collected near her brow, a huff of breath escaping her lips.

the air conditioner broke in her daddy’s old pick-up truck last year, and they hadn’t gotten around to fixing it. ‘not top of the list’ says old jeremiah. guess that means it’ll get done whenever they can think about something other than maggie coming home. if she ever comes home.

beside her on the front seat are two bags of horse feed, and a series of treats her mother baked  both for the animals of the ranch and the humans alike - a gift for the marshall boys. they took to helping out her uncle marcus when he needed a job after he got out of prison for theft, let him work off his community service by helping around the ranch, and for that she’s forever been grateful to them. she rarely even charges them for supplies from the store, but colton always sticks a hundred dollar bill in juliette’s pocket and says it’s between them.

pulling up to the ranch, colton’s truck is nowhere to be found, but aaron, the younger marshall brother, is working with a horse in one of the small pens when she arrives. blowing the horn to get his attention - as if a truck barreling down the one dirt road to get to their house didn’t do well enough, she waves a hand out to him and pulls the truck into park.

“got a delivery!” she says, leaning half-out the window to yell at him. she hops out of the truck and doesn’t even have to think about struggling with the supplies, because he comes up next to her with a smile on his face. “mama baked you guys a lil’ somethin, too. got somethin’ for all’a you guys in there.”

she uses a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and glances over towards the horse. “she’s a real beauty, that one of the surrenders from that ranch halfway up the county?” she asks, shifting to glance back down at @woodridgehollow, who is starting to carry both bags up towards the house. juliette grabs the basket of goodies and follows suit, continuing to make small talk the entire time.  

[notladylikes]

alessia can usually be found at the diner, taking someone’s waitressing shift so they can have a day off or generally just managing things around there. today, though, she took the day off - considering it was a pretty special occasion, her and colton’s anniversary. they’d been together on and off for years, but seemingly both got their heads out of their asses in time to somewhat settle down together.

grabbing a series of pastries and some food prepped from the diner, she places them all in a basket and goes out to one of the pens where colton is currently working on breaking one’a the horses they just got in at the ranch.

running her fingers through her hair, she smiles as she watches him control the larger, majestic animal with such a practiced ease. he seems to have gotten a good ways with this one already, and it’s only been about three days since the stallion arrived at the ranch.

“hey, handsome,”

she calls out, going to hop up onto the bottom rung of the pen’s bars, leaning her body against the upper portion. “you up for takin’ a lil break with me?” she asks, a tilt of her head as she gestures back towards the old pick-up truck. “got a lil’ picnic planned. figure we head out towards the lake, jus you an’ me for a bit?” she asks, a hopeful look present upon her face.

“i got us some snacks from the diner, and some desserts from that lil’ store on the corner that you seem to love so much,” she says, her voice in a sing-song like tone to try and entice. she bites down on the flesh of her bottom lip for a brief moment before he glances up and she’s smiling wide and bright upon seeing the look on @woodridgehollow’s face. “i’ll take that as a yes?”

[notladylikes]

it’s raining, which would be a good thing, lord knows they need it - but elsie has to go into work soon and she wasn’t expecting to have to dodge raindrops to do it. sitting in her car, she fists a handful of french fries into her mouth before turning over the engine and driving the short run to the studio, having completely forgotten an umbrella or any sort of jacket to shield her from the rain.

it’s the sunexpected showers that always do her in.

grabbing the half-drank soda, she takes a few sips to finish it off before throwing empty bags of food into the back seat ( she’ll deal with those later, of course ) and turns off her car only to sit in it for a few moments, thinking that she might have an opening where it wasn’t raining as much.

a small sigh leaves her lips when she realizes it’s not going to stop and she’s going to have to get out in it to travel the short path up to the station, so she can get into work on time. william will never let her live it down if she’s late.

there is a squeal that leaves her lips as soon as she opens the front door of her car and starts to bolt towards cover, shutting her door with her hip before she manages to get there mostly unscathed. there is wetness in her hair and her clothes are damp, but she’s not completely drenched. score one for elsie.

walking into the station, it’s quiet for a moment before she hears the sound of the day shift guy coming to a close, which means she can sneak in unannounced and grab her spot before william has a chance to fuss her for being ‘late’. okay, late wasn’t the right word, she was still half-an hour early, but the man was a stickler for being there an hour before their work shift started everyday, god only knows why.

pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she saddles on into the spot next to william, holding a finger up to shush @woodridgehollow when he takes a breath like he’s going to start bitching, and puts her feet up underneath her. 

leaning in, she whispers softly, not wanting to disturb anything on the other side.

“anythin’ interestin’ happen so far?” she asks, finishing up messing with her hair.

[notladylikes]

lark lets herself into her sister’s home, dragging a shopping bag behind her. “uh - a little help here?” she calls out to anyone, only to get no response and proceeds to huff a breath of discouragement before managing to haul the load of supplies into the kitchen, where dove is currently sitting at the counter and drinking a glass of wine.

“poppy gone to bed yet?” she asks, a tilt of her head as she grabs the wine glass from her sister and takes a generous sip, reveling in the taste and certain notes for a moment before handing it back. “that’s good shit…but i digress.” she says, lifting the bag up onto the counter, full of spa products and the like. “i had a really shitty day dealing with suppliers on the phone, so i’m like….hella stressed,” she says, shifting from where she currently stands to go around the counter.

leaning up, she reaches onto her tippy toes to grab a glass similar to her sister’s before walking over and pouring herself a glass of wine, helping herself to her sister’s night time ritual, before continuing to speak. “so i want a girl’s night. if the kiddo is already asleep, it can be jus’ you and i, but i brought her a unicorn bath bomb and i really want to see her face when she opens it.”

lark takes a few sips of the chilled wine, allowing it to wet her palette and start the process of calming her nerves. she’d given up on smoking cigarettes - knowing it was bad for her health and because she’d gotten to the point of smoking almost a pack a day, and didn’t want to end up with lung cancer as a result. so of course, that meant she was barely hanging by a thread most days.

“can i go wake ‘er up? s’not like she has school tomorrow, she can afford a little bit of wasted sleep in favor of hanging out with her two favorite ladies.” into the bag of snacks on the counter, lark shoves her hand and procures a few before popping them into her mouth with a satisfying crunch. she’s glancing over at @woodridgehollow, trying to ascertain what her answer is about to be. “figured we could order a pizza or somethin’, y’know, do it real big like the olden times.”

there is a slight grimace on her face when she realizes the words that just left her lips.

“god, i can’t believe i actually said that. startin’ to sound like mom.” and that was never going to be a good thing in lark’s eyes, considering she didn’t agree with most things that left her own mother’s mouth in the form of speech.