𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄. @finngn - Tumblr Blog

𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙶𝙽 , an independent fandomless oc. themes include family ( both lost and found ), kindness in the face of cruelty, survival, selflessness, searching for the light at the end of the tunnel and hope in the face of hopelessness. crossover verses available. as penned by jo.

☁ carrd. ☁ prompts.

#pinned

* @levered , " why are you helping me? "

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩? Why did the sun shine? Why did birds chirp? Why did the globe spin? Easy. Because it was the right thing to do. The only thing that made sense. When the other option was to let others suffer, why would he choose anything else?

He says none of this, however. Instead, he opts to arrange the scattered stars of his thoughts into one constellation comprised of less than ten words: “Do you not want me to help you?”

#✎ . . . ❛ the versions of our lives we imagined ❜ . answered #levered

soulprompts

"𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥" 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴.

i'm a sucker for that scene where one person is injured and alone and ends up knocking on another person's door in their hour of need, and i'm an even bigger sucker for the tending to the injuries and the quiet emotional content that follows, and i'm here to make it everyone else's problem! as always, to reverse the actions, just add "+ REVERSE" to the end!

from the injured.

" i didn't know where else to go... "

" whatever you've been told about me, whatever you've heard or seen or listened to... none of it's true. "

" at least i have you to look after me, eh? "

" would you believe me if i said i got all these injuries by slipping in the rain? "

" i'm sorry... i know this isn't what you signed up for. "

" you're the only one i can trust. "

" do you believe what they're saying about me? "

" aren't you going to say i told you so? "

" i am grateful, you know. for everything you've ever done for me... i notice. and i see you. and i've never thanked you properly before, so... thank you. "

" i know i must be the last person you expected to see tonight, but... i'm afraid i have nowhere else to turn to. "

" thank you for not asking questions. "

" i know you have no reason to believe me, much less to trust me, but... i promise you. i swear to you, i am being set up. "

" you know, you'd make a nice profit if you turned this place into a safehouse. "

" why are you helping me? "

" why the hell did you open your door for me if you're so angry at me?! "

to the injured.

" quickly, get in before anyone sees you... "

" you came to the right place. hurry, get in... "

" what the hell happened to you!? "

" are you going to tell me what happened to you tonight? "

" i assume that the rumors surrounding you are all false and unrelated to why you're bleeding out on my sofa? "

" do you honestly expect me to just forget about the past so i can bandage you up? "

" you don't need to thank me. you'd fix me up if i came to your door with this much trouble, too. "

" regardless of everything you've said and done in the past, there isn't a single part of me that wouldn't open the door when you're knocking on it. "

" we can talk in the morning. for now, you need to rest. "

" i found you unconscious on my doorstep. "

" oh, i get it. i can stitch you up and let you get blood all over my bed sheets until the cows come home, but heaven forbid i start to ask questions about why you're bleeding in the first place. "

" things must be really bad if you're trying to say i was your best chance at being helped. "

" don't be stupid. you're not going anywhere. come on, back into bed... "

" i called in sick. we have the whole day to figure out what your next moves are going to be. "

" good! you're awake. i was beginning to worry... "

" you're not allowed to die in my bedroom. the rumours would never stop... "

" perhaps we ought to let bygones be bygones. until i'm confident that you're not going to die on my sofa, that is. "

" it's a bit late to worry about dragging me into your mess, don't you think? "

" you know why i opened that door... "

ACTIONS.

[ BANDAGE ]: sender gently begins to bandage receiver's wounds.

[ BED ]: sender guides receiver into bed, tucking them in and taking a seat by their bedside.

[ FEVER ]: having noticed the receiver beginning to spike a fever, sender presses a cool cloth to their forehead to try and bring it down.

[ CLOTHES ]: after tending to the receiver's wounds, sender brings them fresh clean clothes to change into.

[ FOOD ]: after ensuring the receiver is safe and stable, sender brings them out a plate of food.

[ BATH ]: sender runs the recently-cared-for receiver a hot bath.

[ WAIT ]: aftering tending to the receiver's injuries, sender takes a seat across for them, and patiently waits for them to start explaining what happened.

[ CATCH ]: noticing the receiver beginning to collapse on their doorstep, sender hastily catches them and brings them inside.

[ KISS ]: sender, after being cared for by the receiver, breaks the tension that's been building since they walked through the door, and pulls them in for a kiss.

[ HOLD ]: having been bandaged and cared for by the receiver, sender unexpectedly reaches out to take their hand and hold it in a quiet, sincere gesture of gratitude.

#prompts

enchanting

Darren Barnet as Tag Abbott in Love Hard (2021)

#✎ . . . ❛ and so we beat on ❜ . countenance #🎼 my boy my boy myyyy boyyyyyy 🎼#no i didn't watch this but <3 he

CHARACTER STUDY SHEET.

BOLD all that applies to your muse. Italic what sometimes applies.

tagged by: @soukouku thank u lil shawty i love u xoxoxo tagging: @odeitte @loetise @edithmaslow @euphoriabled @killerxquccn (if u have already done this uhhhh my b just reblog it maybe so i can see it im nosy hehehuhu)

#✎ . . . ❛ few castaways can claim to survive ❜ . about #dash games tbt

rosein

where u can more likely/consistently find me and/or auds and/or any of my other muses

wi.re: @audrey.rose

disco.rd: @castaway jo#4511

finngn

finnys wire is luckyfinn

#out.

enchanting

Send 🖊 for me to make you a starter with a random first line from this generator. ( If you can’t see the emoji just send “First Line” ! )

#✎ . . . ❛ is like a sonnet ❜ . memes #brain finally go brr for a wee bit #come get em while theyre hot

𝐇𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐤𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬. Never having a mother of his own, Mrs. Lahey was the closest he had come to knowing what it was like to be loved by one. Even in her last days, she was beautiful, kind and caring: everything he had ever hoped for in a mother. Often times, he felt an overwhelming sense of jealousy when he looked at Isaac and his family. Then, guilt. Though Mrs. Lahey had always been kind to him, Isaac had probably told her how he had no family, Finn always felt guilt when receiving her kindness. Isaac and Camden were her sons, not him. Some people just got lucky.

“ I used to be so jealous of you, you know, ” Finn admits quietly, picking up a pebble and tossing it across the surface of the water. It skips once, twice, three, four times until it stops, plummeting to the bottom of the pond. “ And your family. I wanted that so bad. I felt like an outsider sometimes. ”

/ 🖊 , @egocrsh ( for isaac )

#✎ . . . ❛ the versions of our lives we imagined ❜ . answered #egocrsh

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 and Finn wanted to hear absolutely none of them. For starters, there was no confirmation that she wasn’t alive to begin with. Though he had not seen her in a month, the invisible string that had tethered them together was still pulled taut. Though they never felt a need to put a label on anything, there was no reason to title a story that wasn’t finished yet, people had their suspicions. Always together, he smiled the brightest around her.

Now that she was gone, there was no reason to smile. The days weighed heavy on him, casting dark circles under his eyes and drawing his bones to the center of the earth. Usually full of so much chipper enthusiasm, Finn didn’t care. He didn’t care about missing lacrosse practice, he didn’t care about schoolwork, he didn’t care about the questions Stiles was trying to ask him or the manila folder he was waving in front of his face. Wait

A hand reaches out to swipe the folder out of his hand, eyes boring into the name on it. Her name. Property of the Beacon Hills Sheriff Department. If he opened it, surely he would see a photo and he couldn’t bear it. “ Where did you get this? ” Eyes narrow. He tries to make his voice sound intimidating, but there’s a tremble in his octaves as he holds the folder up. “ Where the hell did you get this? ”

/ 🖊 , @egocrsh ( for stiles )

#✎ . . . ❛ the versions of our lives we imagined ❜ . answered #egocrsh

𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 except Miss Hannigan, the woman who ran the boys home. It was ironic, really, and even more than that it was a red flag. Surely, no one would place children in a home with a woman who shared the name of notorious child hater. Those are just stories, Finnegan, he would be scolded. But no one knew that the pages of books, the words etched on pages, the characters dancing from line to line were more real to him than anything out there.

Whenever they misbehaved, or when she grew tired of looking at them, it was into The Closet they went. Finn, being the smallest of the bunch, the kindest, the easiest to pick on, spent the most time there. Often, he welcomed it more than having to spend time and effort to avoid the other kids. In the dim light, sometimes he could read one his favorite books. Once she found out what he was doing, she took the lightbulb out. There were hours, days even he spent in the closet with no concept of time, no one who cared he was there, just the stale air pressing on his chest. No sound but his shallow breathing and laughing of the other children.

Here, in this closet now, with the others laughing on the other side of it, he’s a kid again. It doesn’t matter that he could come out if he wanted to. It doesn’t matter that this is not Miss Hannigan’s home, it’s a party at a friend’s house. He’s not being punished, he’s being hazed, just another part of the joining the lacrosse team rituals. He may be older now, but he’s just as scared, just as cold, wondering what he did wrong. A familiar voice snaps him out of his spiral, eyes flicking up to the door, “ Scott? Scott, you gotta let me out of here, please. Please, I can’t take it anymore. ”

/ 🖊 , @turneds

#✎ . . . ❛ the versions of our lives we imagined ❜ . answered #turneds

𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝, 𝐡𝐞'𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬. as soon as his fingers would even graze against porcelain flesh, they would be slapped away. sharp, angry words, as if he had done something wrong were flung in his face. accusations that made his eyes sting with tears he was not allowed to have. ( if they were unnatural, why were they bred into him? ) for a boy who had so much to give the world, he spent a lot of time and energy pushing so much of himself down.

now that he was older, he knew there was nothing wrong with him. an ample curiosity in dolls meant neither one thing nor another. he was secure enough in himself, and his friendship with allie, to live without fear. “ this one kind of looks like you, ” grinning crookedly, he picks up a blonde doll with a round face, doe-like baby blue eyes, and rosy cheeks.

his fingers do not sting when he touches it. the hair on the back of his neck does not prickle with the fear of being struck. “ maybe the shop keeper saw you and spent all night making it just for you. maybe you’re his muse. ” fingers brush against the tulle of the doll’s blue underskirt. “ you should get it, ” finn decides, holding it out to her, “ unless you’re afraid of dolls or something.”

/ 🖊 , @loetise

#✎ . . . ❛ the versions of our lives we imagined ❜ . answered #loetise

𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝, but judging by the way she picked at a ball of lint on her skirt, it seemed kate would rather be anywhere but here. still, finn had the sneaking suspicion that kate new more than she let on, the excuse of 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍 falling on less than gullible ears.

sneakers crunch on the miniscule shards of broken glass still on the asphalt. it’s almost as if there wasn’t an accident at all the totaled car had long been hauled off, thick, angry tire marks one of the only pieces of evidence that something had happened here. “ look, kate, ” though he’s exhausted, he keeps his voice steady and soft. understanding. “ if this is too much for you, if you don’t wanna be here, i get it. i can handle it. you should go home, get some rest. ”

/ 🖊 , @schmdts

#✎ . . . ❛ the versions of our lives we imagined ❜ . answered #schmdts

violatile

hello i will be on wire or discord if anyone would like ,,,,, anything from me at all JJDJDJDJDJSSJ

#hello this goes for finny too #my head is not in tumblr rn #but i have muse to spare

mothman-pseudanthium

Visit Original Link

Work Song by Hozier except you’re deep within a coal mine, working tirelessly to support your family. Somewhere nearby, you can hear Hozier telling all the other boys in the mine about his beautiful girlfriend. It fills you with a strange sense of peace.

#✎ . . . ❛ compared to the heart ❜ . music #finn is a huge hozier fan confirmed cannon yup yup yup