#ofpar1ahs

[hairoic]

❛ i’m trying to fix your hair, so hold still. ❜ (robin)

"…OH, GOD."

she's… fixing his hair? why the hell is he agreeing to this and letting it happen? when is his hair ever not immaculate? okay; maybe today, when he'd walked through some pretty strong winds to get here; the kind that even farrah fawcett's brand was no match for.

even so, steve's not used to someone else making a judgement call on his thick locks, so eventually, when he feels she's doing the opposite of what he wants, steve DEFIES the instruction to sit still and eventually pulls away, irritable.

"...okay, can't you just tell me where i can find a mirror, robin? i'll fix it myself."

🎔 — 𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝙳𝙸𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂. / @ofpar1ahs.

[spehllman]

Thank you for the trauma, I need it for my art. / Will

               ' I DON'T THINK ME HOLDING HANDS WITH STEVE COUNTS AS TRAUMA, BUT SURE, YOU'RE WELCOME. ' she's long past arguing the point with these shitheads. besides, at least will is extra funny about it.

[spehllman]

It says if I read this out loud it'll unleash hell. / Barb

               ' OH, THEN THAT'S NOT A SAD HANDWRITTEN BOOK, IT'S JUST MY DIARY. ' she's joking. it's her spellbook. and it won't actually unleash hell, well, not as far as she's tried.

[ofassholes]

“please.. don’t lie to me.” From Will

              〝  will,  i  — 〞  his  voice  cracked,  already  alerting  to  the  secrets  on  his  tongue.  the  way  that  he  was  read  so  easily,  virtually  transparent  to  the  other,  startled  him  to  his  core.  it  shouldn't  have  been  surprising.  how  could  he  ever  think  he  could  lie  to  will?  and  get  away  with  it,  too?  he  knew  not  to  broach  this  topic  for  this  very  reason,  but  it  was  too  late  —  will  was  too  good,  their  bond  too  intimate.  and  with  those  eyes  looking  at  him,  concern  dripping  from  them  in  the  pointed  gaze,  he  knew  he  was  screwed.

              〝  okay,  i  know  we  don't  do  that,  but  ...  what  if  it's  something  big?  there's  gotta  be  some  leeway  for  that,  right?  〞  mike  knew  he  was  full  of  shit.  god,  he  hated  himself.  his  features  twisted  in  torment,  frustration  painted  on  his  face  as  he  stared  at  the  ground.  look  at  him  you  coward,  he  ordered  himself.  and  he  did.  with  the  new  resolve,  he  chose  to  be  as  honest  as  possible.  〝  i  never  wanted  to  lie  to  you,  will.  i  hate  it.  but  maybe  some  things  need  to  be  kept  secret.  〞  once  again,  he  sensed  the  rift  between  them  growing,  contemplating  how  wide  it  might  become,  what  this  mess  might  do  to  them.  mike  would  much  prefer  to  carve  his  heart  out  with  a  spoon  than  lose  will,  but  what  choice  did  he  have?  this  was  the  only  way  to  keep  him  safe.

[elevencursed-arch]

the child has spent more days wandering in the woods than in the outside world. she doesn't know how to track how much time has passed, but she's seen the blue skies turn to grey skies. the ground has also changed from brown to white, & days feel shorter. not only that, she doesn't know what causes these changes to occur. maybe it shouldn't concern her. however, on this day, she notices something different in the woods. the air is moderately warmer, & along her usual path lies a set of tracks. she has memorized the prints made by the man in the house, but these tracks aren't the same.

kneeling beside one of them, she places a hand inside of it. ❛ big. ❜ she mumbles to herself before her head shoots upward. ordinarily, during the daytime, there is no one in the woods except for her, but the snapping of tree branches catches her attention. she swallows & slowly stands. she can feel her heart as it pounds against her chest, & gradually she brings a trembling hand up as if to strike. ❛ st- stay ah - away. ❜

* @ofpar1ahs !