* 𝔞 𝔡 𝔪 𝔦 𝔯 𝔦 𝔫 𝔤 .

have you ever untangled spaghetti?       independent & highly selective hanna marin of freeform’s pretty little liars.  both show and headcanon based.  as loved by liz  (  29,  she/her,  est  ).  please read guidelines before following. 

carrd. 

leaving  was  easy.  the  remnants  of  guilt  still  cling  to  her,  draped  around  frame  like  the  world’s  worst  fashion  statement,  but  at  least  it’s  honest.  leaving  lakewood  meant  leaving  emma,  and  audrey,  and  noah,  everyone  that  mattered  to  her   —   and  it  was  still  one  of  the  easiest  things  she’s  ever  done.  it  hadn’t  mattered  going  through  motions  of  packing,  shoving  formerly  treasured  objects  into  boxes  or  leaving  them  behind  altogether.  everything  barely  tangible,  it  could’ve  been  left  to  algae  at  the  lake  for  all  she’d  cared,  but  investing  in  a  whole  new  wardrobe  wasn’t  practical.  she’s  not  emma,  she’s  not  brave.  she’d  rather  be  alone  for  the  rest  of  her  life  than  stare  down  one  more  dead  body.

rosewood  seems  …  normal.  it’s  not  dissimilar  to  lakewood,  before  the  name  was  drenched  in  blood.  it’s  not  home,  but  the  word  has  no  meaning  now  anyway.  it’s  good  enough,  like  her  cousin’s  little  house  at  the  edge  of  town.  like  everything  as  long  as  it  doesn’t  end  with  a  knife  through  yet  another  favorite  top.  the  stores  blow,  and  no  one  gets  her  coffee  order  right,  but  it’s  refreshingly  normal.  she  allows  for  tentative  friendships,  happy  if  not  surprised  to  learn  old  charm  hasn’t  entirely  lost  it’s  shimmer.  

her  reintegration  into  the  social  pool  is  the  first  step  to  how  she  lands  here:  shivering  at  the  end  of  the  world’s  worst  halloween  train,  hearing  whispers  about  some  dead  cop.  through  a  crop  of  surface  level  friendlies,  few  come  to  mind  as  she  scans  a  shifting  crowd.  she’s  not  even  wearing  heels,  the  odds  aren’t  in  her  favor,  but  she  elbows  her  way  through  enough  to  spot  a  familiar  blonde.    ❛   hanna  !   ❜

[  intertwine  &  hold  ]  the  sender’s  muse  to  intertwine  their  finger’s  the  receiver’s  muse  and  hold  them  during  an  emotional  moment  to  reassure  them.   /   @admirare​  as  hanna  marin

hands  outstretched,  their  fingers  lace  in  a  tight  grip  brooke  can’t  be  sure  who  started.  they  stay  linked,  even  as  brooke’s  definitely  more  on  the  sidelines  of  a  group  she  doesn’t  belong  to  and  doesn’t  quite  understand.  a  bubble  of  concern  pops  in  her  chest,  one  she  didn’t  realize  she  was  carrying  around.   ❛   are  you  okay  ?  some  guy  in  cowboy  boots  said  someone  died  ?   ❜

       trauma per capita was a rosewood specialty, especially for those who fell in the crossfire of this nameless, faceless all seeing entity who was hell-bent on raining destruction down upon the formerly sleepy little town. there was a time when things here were near pleasant, when they were picture perfect, even — at least, at first glance, anyway. but it’s been years of this now. of her and her friends thinking they’ve eliminated the evil looming above their heads like an ever present raincloud, only for a clap of thunder to roll, a flash of lightning to strike, and suddenly they’re found locked out in the pouring rain again, almost like the storm had never ceased at all.        it never gets any easier, the shock never goes away. you have to be a certain type of person to become desensitized to all this carnage. it seems hanna doesn’t have the stomach for it. she’s almost glad for that, in a way. if she did, what would that say about her? about the sort of person she’d become? 

     tonight was particularly gruesome — the halloween aura adding to the horror and shock of it all. her friends are nearby, they’re safe — now, at least. but concern rings out clear as day for her newest friend who she realizes she hasn’t seen in at least an hour. poor brooke, new to rosewood and new to the nightmares this town always brings to the surface. she’s probably so scared.