ғᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴍ @finnpierce-blog - Tumblr Blog

Cutest booty in Marlborough?

“Payton’s, obviously. Like, I’m open to any and all cute booties, for the record – if you have one, show me – but there’s just something there. There’s just something with the booty. I gotta get behind it.”

#what a fkinc creep #answered.#Anonymous

#yall i forgot finn existed #ples

paytonssimons.

It’s honestly a surprise that Payton isn’t trembling at this point considering now she has to wait for the worker to come around and ask for tickets. What is she going to do then; sit and let him do the talking? Yes. He obviously knows what he’s on about and she has begun to trust him, something that probably shouldn’t be given away so easily. “You call that officially having the skill? I’m glad you think so but c’mon, let’s be real here. If you weren’t here I would probably look incredibly suspicious and get escorted out instantly.” Not wanting to come across as a wimp, she masks her fear now with a chuckle as she sits herself down. A sigh of relief escapes as her head rests back and she thinks it’s about time she exerted some playfulness. “You can hand over some of those M&M’s now.”

Finn lowers himself down into the seat next to her’s to the sound of her chuckle, somehow managing to feel accomplished with the knowledge that he’s the one who elicited it. Of course, he’s not going to let that get to his head too much, namely because letting anything to get his head is a generally bad idea, but when it comes to Payton, he feels as if it’ll be even worse. “Ah, now you want my M&M’s. I see how it works.” He’s digging in his pocket to get them out though, hips lifted for easier access. He pulls out two packets of them, and hands one to his companion. “I got a drink in my jacket. Don’t worry, it’s non-alcoholic. Unless you’re into that.” He grins over at her, all cheeky and sparkly-eyed, looking for all the world to be the most innocent, charming, docile person to exist. Little do they know. “In which case, do I have good news for you.”

#paytonssimons

blakedelaney.

There are really no words that could properly sum up what’s running through her mind, but when she looks at him, it just reminds her of a time when things were so different. Maybe just as complicated, but back then, ignorance was her best friend– when she didn’t know the painful realities of simply feeling too much. Feeling the wrong things, feeling the right things, or just feeling in general. That had backfired, and she knew the aftermath wouldn’t be any easier to deal with, but she had been doing a fairly good job at avoiding it. Until now, that is.

Blake forces a little smile when he takes the money out of her hand, feeling very unconcerned about it now, considering the circumstances. “Yeah… yeah, I know,” She takes a deep breath and sighs. People had always told her that time can heal almost anything, but in this case, it seems as if it just made it harder. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever end up running into you again…” There’s truth behind her words, which by itself, hurts enough because she knew nothing would ever be the same.

No one has ever had the ability to make him feel like a total asshole so thoroughly as Blake can, without intent, without thought, just by looking at him. Perhaps that’s a projection of his own feelings regarding himself, though, and it isn’t his place at all to determine what she feels, even if it is based on an interpretation of her facial expression. He’s never been so guilty about something like he is about this, and he shifts a bit, tucking the bill into his pocket and thinking of taking a step back. In the end, he holds his position, half because he can’t bear the thought of getting further away, and half because the thought of getting closer is so enticing. He won’t. He can’t.

“Neither was I. Bet you’re disappointed now.” It’s just a statement of fact, really; less of a tease than he’d probably intended for it to be, mostly because is humour seems to of gone straight out the proverbial window. That’s a change. There’s an apology on the tip of his tongue, thick and cloying, sickly-sweet like a medicine he never wanted to take. It’s almost disconcerting how much he wants to spit it out, but he won’t. He can’t. “You look good.” She always looks good, but he doesn’t quite know what else to offer her, and he’s sort of terrified he’ll be on his knees soon if he doesn’t give something.

#blakedelaney

firstnoelle.

“Oh, yeah, and it’d be a total crime to humanity if I didn’t spend all my time trying to get your attention, wouldn’t it?” Noelle rolled her eyes.

“Well, you said it, not me.” He wouldn’t of used so many words, most likely, but he can tell her sarcasm is just a product of her irritation; some people get wordy when they’re annoyed.

#what does that mean omfg #firstnoelle

paytonssimons.

It feels like she hardly got any warning at all, but that’s just because she was standing there dwelling over the thought of being caught. “Wait, what?” At his tug, she stumbles only just yet regains herself the second after. Thoughts are racing through her head a million miles an hour and all she can hear his the sound of her heart beating like a drum in her ear. Out of instinct (out of need more like) her free hand goes to his forearm and her fingers wrap around. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so clingy especially since they hardly know each other but she can’t help herself. It’s a coping mechanism. Something she needs to help settle her. Her body becomes tense and her grip tightens as they pass the uniformed worker, still in silence as they head to the theatre that was showing their movie.

“See? Easy as pie.” It’s murmured to her; effectively tucked into her hair, really, considering they’re just getting to their seats when he says as much. There aren’t a lot of people in this theatre, but he assumes it’ll fill out more as it gets closer to showtime. Either way, he hopes Payton isn’t one of those people who hates conversation during films, because Finn has a hard time shutting up. He lets her take her seat, remaining standing for the moment and hoping to appear at least somewhat polite. He still holds her hand, he realises rather belatedly, and consciously makes an effort to release it now. “You officially have the skill to sneak into movies. Congratulations. Teach all your friends.”

#paytonssimons

paytonssimons.

She’s absolutely astounded; how he can sneak anything in, even himself without getting caught is such a shock to her. If she even tried on her own she would end up a blithering mess and get caught out straight up. “I honestly don’t know how you do it, really I don’t.” A shake of her head tries to mask the growing fear settling in the pit of her stomach, yet there is a look in her eyes that screams fright. It’s fair to say she’s scared of getting caught, of being punished; punishment is not something she can do easily but she’s taking a risk, for him. Her gazes subtly trails over to the man Finn was talking about, that gentle squeeze to her hand bringing her attention back to him. She settles, is put to some ease and reassured simply by a squeeze of the fingers. “Okay,” she breathes out, returning the gentle squeeze with a grin showing her silent gratitude. “I gotta keep my mouth shut, right?”

Finn should probably be more proud of himself for impressing her so much, but he sort of feels bad, truth be told. Maybe it’s just indigestion, or maybe he has a conscience, but either way he finds the entire idea of it absolutely off-putting. He’s still holding her hand, though, and he’s still side-eyeing their enemy, and he’s still very much preparing to carry this on as if there’s no uncertainty whatsoever. “I mean, not necessarily, but if you don’t want to get caught...” He trails off, eyes narrowing, and then turns back to her with a softer voice, murmuring, “All right, here we go.” Then he promptly begins to tug her alone at his side, pace confident and brisk whilst the uniformed man’s back is turned, looking for all the world like he completely belongs. They’re shockingly undetected, it would appear.

#paytonssimons

blakedelaney.

Her breath escapes her as soon as he turns around, almost like someone ran up and punched her right in the gut. Or maybe even that would’ve felt better. She had spent all of this time trying to forget about him completely–like it was even possible–but oh, boy did she wish it was. She could practically feel her heart pounding in her throat and she forgets any motives she had in her mind entirely. “— Uh...” she mumbles as she looks down at the flimsy paper in her hand, words leaving her completely.

“The, um…” She’s barely aware of the fact that she doesn’t even sound coherent, “…this,” now she’s not forming complete sentences, but she holds up the bill in her hand, because what else was she supposed to do at this point? She never planned for this, she never could plan for this. It’s hard enough to get herself to look him in the eye again, but when she finally does, it makes it so much worse. “… Did you drop it?” She finally gets out, her voice quiet, filled with regret over ever stopping him in the first place.

They were friends. More than that, on some levels, though Finn never could find it in himself to acknowledge it as a reality. Blake is probably the only person in the world he has come even remotely close to feeling something for, to really, truly feeling. Not in a way that he could suppress, not in a way that he could deny, or get around, no matter how much he still tries to. She’s going somewhere, though, and she’s doing something, and she’s just... her, and he’s just him, and he can’t imagine it. He can’t. That doesn’t make it okay to do what he did to her, and it doesn’t make it okay for him to do what he’s still doing, but it’s the only way he makes sense of anything in his head. He’s trained himself to.

It takes him a moment to catch up with what she’s saying, hazel eyes hitching on the bill she’s offering him. “Oh, yeah,” No “I totally dropped that. Thanks.” He most certainly didn’t drop it, but he’ll never turn down a fiver either, so there’s that. He gently plucks it from her grasp, tucking it into his pocket, and trying to ignore that urge he’d barely kept down to brush his fingers against her hand, see if it still feels the same. “It’s... It’s been a while.” That comes out sounding even more lame that he’d thought it would. Great.

#blakedelaney #well that makes 1 of us

firstnoelle.

“Gross??” Noelle scoffed, offended that someone would think of getting married as gross. She rolled her eyes instead at his next question. “I would, but if I start offering free food you’ll all keep coming back to me like stray cats or something.”

“Yeah, probably, but wouldn’t that be a good thing? I mean, look at me. What a blessing.” He should probably take it back a notch or six, but he won’t.

#dont tell finn that it will go 2 his dumb head #firstnoelle

eviegdi.

Evie reaches back to smooth over rogue blonde curls, taming them momentarily from their frizzy disarray. Her daughter is her weak spot, her Achilles Heel. She softens her rough edges and dulls her steel tongue, making exchanges such as this one stilted and uncomfortable. “Babe, let’s think about who you’re talking to for a moment. Do you think I even know her father?” Answering a question with a question and a healthy dose of the truth. She sleeps around; no one would doubt the fact that she hadn’t the foggiest idea as to Brooklyn’s paternity. Or that’s what she was banking on anyways. Back then, she was more selective. Higher standards, maybe. In reality, it’s Finn and she knows it but that does mean he has to figure it out. She bends down to scoop the small girl into her arms, lifting her up onto her hip. “Where’s daddy gone, sweetheart?” she coos affectionately, earning her daughter’s bright smile. “Far, far away!” comes the delighted answer, a clap of tiny hands sealing the declaration. Evie shrugs then, pulling off nonchalance with a practiced ease. She sets Brookie down as she squirms, letting her return to the playground equipment and the adventures she had put on pause. Her full attention ends up back on Finn and she folds her arms loosely. “It’s just one of those things – take life as it comes at you, right? She’s a good kid…” She’s rambling but it’s fine; if anything it’s actually genuine.

Finn supposes she has a point about that, and when hazel eyes shifts from Evie’s face down to her daughter again, he can’t help the way they linger. There’s just something that pulls him back in. Maybe some kind of morbid curiosity paired with the what if’s of their previous ‘relationship,’ and with the one they seem to of begun again. Unless what happened when they’d first run into each other was just a one-off, which considering Finn’s rather complicated list of potential romantic attachments, he’s thinking it might of been. Not that he’d mind sleeping with Evie again -- no one has to twist his arm, damn -- but he’s been so sloppy lately, it almost seems a shame to get that messiness anywhere else. Even on her. “Well, that’s not fucked up in the least.” He comments wryly, not that he’s one to talk at all about fucked up parents, all things taken into account. Evie wouldn’t know about that, and he doesn’t intend to tell her, but he harbours a small pang of guilt at the insinuation regardless. Damn his soft heart. “As long as you’re doing right by her, that’s all you’ve got control over, I suppose. She’s cute. How old?” He doesn’t remember if she answered that or not, or if he just asked it in his head. Can’t hurt to confirm even if it is the former rather than the latter.

#eviegdi #;)

paytonssimons.

“Funny actually, I was leaning towards Deadpool too. If it’s been here this long surely it’s a good one. If you’re down for that, I am too.” When Finn shifts closer, her eyes follow him before she can see out of the corner of her eye that he’s reaching into his pocket. Staring down to his hand, the moment she takes in the M&M’s her jaw drops and her eyes widen. “Oh my god, how the hell did you get your hands on that?” Surprise oozes from her voice yet she’s trying to mask it, something that she’s failing at right now. Instinct draws her closer to him and her hand settles over his and the packet as if to hide it from the potential viewers. “You trying to corrupt me, are you? Sneaking in and now this?” Her tone of voice is hushed as she does not want others to hear yet there is a certain playfulness is lingering.

It’s actually sort of hilarious how worked up she’s getting over a packet of M&M’s; hilarious and adorable, though he’d do well to keep the latter thoroughly out of his reaciton. “Chill. I once snuck McDonald’s into a theater, McFlurry and all. It was legendary.” Without thinking, he drops the candy back into his pocket, but rather than allowing his hand to fall to his side, he wraps it about Payton’s smaller one instead. It seems like the natural thing to do, at least for him, and he tries not to overthink it as he casts his gaze about their surroundings and contemplates their plan of attack. “Just wait ‘till that guy,” He gestures to a man stood a ways off to their left, “is properly distracted, and then we should be good to go.” He gives her fingers a gentle squeeze, peering down at her from his vantage, and it’s unclear to him whether it’s meant to be reassuring or otherwise. Perhaps Payton translates it better.

#paytonssimons

blakedelaney.

Blake was simply minding her own business, walking down the same path she always took from the restaurant she worked at back to her apartment. It was really nothing out of the ordinary, she was just ready to finally get back home. She was watching all the people pass by her– it was comforting, to some degree. Such a busy city and she was just a spec within it all. She snapped out of her thoughts soon enough to notice a little green slip of paper fly up against her foot. It wasn’t every day a five dollar bill sweeps in out of nowhere, but it wasn’t hers, she knew that much. She figured the person just a few feet in front of her could’ve easily dropped it, and she wasn’t about to go without asking, so she caught up to them to do just that. “Um, excuse me, did you drop this?” She asked while tapping on their shoulder, not quite getting a glimpse of their face.

It would be a lie to say that Finn hasn’t thought about what it would be like to see her again. He’s often imagined it on a sunny day, in a park, or on a bridge; somewhere stereotypically romantic in that particular way that always makes him want to throw up in someone’s shoes. Mostly he’s conjured up scenarios of what he would say to her, how he would explain his thoughts, his feelings, and make amends for the shit he put her through despite never once offering so much as an apology before.

Today, as it turns out, is the day all of those illusions shatter.

He recognises her voice before all else, and he turns around to face her almost immediately, impressive height making it impossible to not look down when he does. It’s not something he expressly meant to do, and really he probably would’ve benefited more from erring on the side of caution, booking it down the street, and never stopping at all. His reaction had been automatic, and so still is the way his lips part in surprise, gears in his head grinding to a virtual standstill because he never quite figured out what it would be like to actually have to see her face.

“-- What?”

#;) r u ready lissa #blakedelaney

firstnoelle.

“Am I…” Noelle had confusion written all over her face, unsure of how exactly what she said could have been seen as a threat. “No. No, I’m not threatening you. I was saying I would be a good wife because I can cook, but it was supposed to be a joke,” she explained.

“Oh. Gross.” Finn doesn’t think much of marriage, but he thinks quite a bit of food. He chooses his path carefully. “Does that mean you’re offering to feed me?”

#i feel the same way lmao #firstnoelle