goo goo muck! @und3ads - Tumblr Blog

𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱 ⸻ ⁽¹⁾ creature that is deceased but behaves as if they were alive. ⁽²⁾ something that is dead but also not dead. ⁽³⁾ kooky lil' woman ghost. ⁽⁴⁾ a dependent blog for @maggotcreek, lovingly dug out by oli.

𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴: thehollow, thirty1, ghost.

#🪦 pinned pls dni <3 #owed: 02

pathologising

we need loser girls now more than ever

#introspection.

365filmsbyauroranocte

The Petrified Forest (Archie Mayo, 1936)

#introspection.

jaimeroyalrobertson-deactivated

joan baez performing 500 miles and harmonizing with the audience you will always be famous

#tunes.

mothercains

HAVANA ROSE LIU as ruthie in tuner (2026)

#reflection.#:3333 EEEEE

moralcompcss

his interactions withe supernatural ranged from enchantment, to disturbance to... possession. at the back of his neck, faint hair prickles before the voice separates, filling his ears with the slowness of an old nursery rhyme, something familiar. he might have been thankful for the break from his trance, turning to see her standing there in all of her glory. slightly off but who was he to say anything? the touch nearly startled him but it was so fast that he couldn't keep up at first. there's a pause, his thoughts narrowing as he looks at her... really looks at her... "hey..." but then he thinks better of pondering out loud if he knows her, if they've crossed paths before... he already knows the answer somewhere in his mind. pause long enough to be realigned, his normal nature not fractured enough to disappear completely in the despondence of his mood as the carnival music continues to blare. "well, if that's the case, i'll be expecting a prize... i built this from scratch," he offers, the slightest hint of another emotion fighting its way through.

und3ads

a small part of her braces for that dreaded glazed - over look she’s used to seeing in another person’s eyes—when they don’t look at, only through. it’s all she’s known for six years, really… or has it been longer? perhaps her time as a ghost began long before she went off and died.

for some days now—for a reason completely unknown—she's been able to communicate with the living - and - breathing of magnolia (why? and would the gift vanish just as swiftly as it appeared?). margot can't help but keep her ears peeled, dreading the sound of the other shoe dropping.

tonight, though, life(?) smiles at her; bathed in all the festival lights, there’s a spark of recognition in the other, and then that glorious word. how she’ll treasure that hey.

he sees me, he sees me, he sees me– i’m still here.

her excitement is so much, and all at once, that hollow can’t even attempt to contain it; hands lifting and joining to tickle her chin, bouncing lightly on the balls of her bare feet. “oh, well, isn’t that just terrible, terrible news! they’ve given you the title and none of the rewards. a crownless king. TSK.”

what if it doesn’t end? “how about we get you that grand ol’ prize, hm? right a horrible wrong.” margot spins, ready to float, drawn to the songs of the carnival games. “we’ll turn that frown upside down quicker than an angry snake would bite your lil’ leg. that’s a promise.”

maybe there’s no other shoe.

#threads.#threads: margot&lucky.

screenshotingmonstertv

#introspection.

moralcompcss

where: summer festival.

when: july 26th, 7:15pm.

lights dazzlines, the sound of children tailing off into the funhouse where walls turned, the world fell off kilter... oblivious to the way the town had already turned everything upside down. there was a time when he would have been in a booth, makeshift purple velvet falling hopelessly as he sat there pretending that he was going to read a fortune; predicting a fate that had the right balance of optimism to add tips to his marker stained jar. now, he knew too much about fate and too little about what came next. the sound of the buzzer causes him to blink out of his haze, the punch back knocked back by one of his nephew's classmates. a new high score registered and cheering. he can barely muster an expression, abandoned as they run off to celebrate with an ice cream, a handful of coins left behind. he doesn't know how long he's been standing there. it could have been a few seconds, a minute... perhaps even an hour in the trance that lay somewhere between consciousness and slumber. sleep had became so foreign to him, the idea of not being present in his body a mortal enemy that he had to make sure he could strike back at.

und3ads

it’s rude, really, the way hollow spots someone — someone very clearly absorbed in their inner world — and decides to approach anyway. not only that, but as soon as she hovers close enough to count the blond locks on her unsuspecting victim’s nape (one, two, three, four), she presses a cold hand to their shoulder and disturbs their vulnerable skin by blowing a playful puff of air.

puff in place of hello. that’s her greeting.

tensions are rising all around, indeed! she isn’t ignorant of the fact. even so, margot can’t seem to squash her desire to indulge in the mundane. she only wants — needs — a single taste… or that’s what she tells herself before delaying her departure from the festivities again and again and again.

“congratulations are in order, good sir.” her soft, slightly blurry voice travels as she performs a low curtsy, curtain of frizzy hair falling from her face, revealing the toothy grin nestled underneath. “you’re the talk of the town, y’know? folks wanna award you: most serious face at the festival.” press. her finger’s suddenly against lucky’s forehead, a fleeting touch. “i can see why.”

#threads.#threads: margot&lucky.#lucky having a not so good day: 😢#margot Ready to make it worse: 😋👋👋👋👋👋👋#I HOPE THIS WORKS BUT LMK <3 IF ANYTHING NEEDS SOME CHEEKY FIXING

𓉸ྀི THE HOLLOW. HAVANA ROSE LIU. CIS WOMAN. SHE/HER ⸻ can you feel it, MARGOT LONG? it's starting again. something's coming up the creek bed — and soon, there'll be nowhere left to hide. but i can tell by your eyes, you're not the running type. yeah, you're too VULNERABLE and ODD for that, aren't you? just about what i'd expect from a GHOST. so you've been in magnolia creek about HER WHOLE LIFE now? word travels fast in a small, dying town like this — i hear you're THIRTY-ONE (PHYSICALLY TWENTY-FIVE) years old and UNEMPLOYED + GHOST ACTIVITIES. don't think that'll help much in a fight against the hunger, but at least you've got your ROCK (PULLED FROM THE DEPTHS OF THE CREEK). that's more than i can say for most. i've seen this cycle turn before, and i think i know how it ends. you think it'll end DIFFERENTLY? well. we'll see. i'd love to be proven wrong in all this.