{MOVED}

RP blog for Boq from Wicked. Both Musical and Book verses avaliable. Tracking tag is Tinhearted. Layout coding is not mine, but all images are.

[imtinkerbell]

Wen ur tin can husband follow u *wheeze* @tinhearted

[tinhearted]

*Cartwheels mysteriously into the night*

[wnq-movies]

You don’t forget the face of the person who was your last hope.

The Hunger Games (2012), Dir. Gary Ross  (via wnq-movies)

[tinhearted]

goodliest liked your post “Starter Call”

The bow was stiff, inelegant, the kind of thing one could only excuse from a man made of metal. It squeaked. Boq was not a well-made thing; he was cumbersome and badly jointed, ill accustomed and ill tempered in his own body. All the careful oiling in Oz could only do so much. 

Even the smile was metal, and it clanged, bright and disingenuous, with all the stiffened formalities of public occasion; exactly what was needed, exactly what was expected. 

“Lady Glinda,” 

....How he loathed her.

It was nothing but trivial gossip to consider the Tin man’s heartlessness anything but literal. He had not lost his capability for thought or emotion (that had been made evident by the obsession of the witch hunt, in which Boq had played his fanatical role) simple or complex. Merely his heart. Merely his body. Merely his good will. 

But that had been years ago, decades, and middle age had brought with it a new, insidious kind of hatred. That seething, twisting breed known only to those who spend their every waking moment in the limelight. 

For Glinda, set against the glistening lights and genteel finery of public expectation, conversation sat as flat and dispassionate as ditch water. It was all Boq could manage. All he would give her. 

“You look....radiant.”

[tinhearted]

Galinda:*loses Boq in a crowd*

Galinda:Good.

[tinhearted]

YOU'RE BACK :D

Yesss, I am! 

Probably on a slightly more diminished basis than last time, but here I am! Dragging Boq with me!

[tinhearted]

The problem with staunchly held beliefs, Boq was quickly finding, was that said beliefs tended to find themselves considerably less staunch when put face to face with the people who, by and large, those beliefs are staunch against. 

Boq wanted to tell himself he hated Adam. Everything Adam was. H-he wanted to say he found him monstrous, unnatural. But he couldn’t. And that was terrifying enough. Wide eyed and trembling, he lifted his chin.

“I…well N-no,” he said, “But it…it’s common sense!” 

C-common sense. Yes! Common sense. Boq had heard that somewhere ,and he was desperate to parrot something. 

[moved-fromgallowsandgraves]

As far as Adam was concerned, Boq’s cherished views were representative of everything that was truly wrong with the world.  Weak, ‘nice’, easily-led; Boq was of the very type that had been responsible for allowing the deaths of millions over the years.

Yet, in spite of that, Adam had thought far crueller things about himself than Boq could, apparently, bring himself to believe about Adam.  Had the reanimated man been a telepath, perhaps the irony would not have been lost on him.  As it was, however, the hypocrisy of preaching acceptance failed to register.  

“‘Common sense’?” Adam glared at Boq.  “For parents to abandon their children?  For communities to turn on one another? Humans have been finding excuses for that for thousands of years, and they will continue to do so until everyone is dead.”    

[tinhearted]

Boq trembled under Adam’s stare. He’d gone red. Boq wasn’t good with confrontation, he wasn’t used to arguing. The world he’d inhabited for so long had been blissfully free of dissenting opinion; proud and solid in everything it thought, everything it understood. It hadn’t furnished Boq was an especially open mind, not even now. 

He drew himself shakily upright, gathering together every scrap of palpable outrage, every shred of nervous hatred. He barely reached past Adam’s chest.

“It...it isn’t right,” he rallied desperately. “L-look at the destruction mutants have caused! E-everything w-...they’ve done!”

[rpmemes-galore]

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix  {Sentence Starters}

“I tried so hard to help, and all it’s done is made things worse.”

“After all these years, after all you’ve suffered, I didn’t want to cause you any more pain. I cared too much about you.”

“Please, tell them I mean no harm.”

“You’re not a bad person. You’re a very good person, who bad things have happened to.”

“They’re just here because they think I’m some sort of freak.”

“I hope they have pudding.”

“Yeah, it’s not as bad as it seems. See? It’s fading already.”

“What if after everything that I’ve been through, something’s gone wrong inside me?”

“So, you’ve known someone who died?”

“You’re the weak one. And you’ll never know love,or friendship. And I feel sorry for you.”

“Look, it’s not that I don’t appreciate everything you’ve done, all of you, but - but I’ve got you into enough trouble as it is.”

“Just because you’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon…”

“Working hard is important, but there’s something that matters even more. Believing in yourself.”

“You are honestly the most wonderful person I have ever met.” 

“I’ve reached my limit, do you hear? This is the last I’m gonna take of you and your nonsense!”

“Who cares? I mean, it’s sort of exciting, isn’t it, breaking the rules?”

[goodliest-deactivated20240814]

It seemed that neither one of them was going to end their bitter stalemate any time soon. She squinted as his metal joints tightened, leaning forward in what seemed like something of a rather intense staring contest. (She didn’t need to blink, technically, but it made her feel almost normal, and that was reason enough to do so.)

She tapped one of her sickeningly pink, patent leather heels at him. A stark contrast to the darkness, the decidedly dismal atmosphere of the place. Maybe that was why she was sent here. Decades worth of dried lilies weren’t exactly enough to brighten up this old cave. How Elphie could stand to live here, she’d never understand.

She looked at the axe, lying dejectedly on the stone floor.

Good riddance.

Now back to his eyes, if one could even call them that anymore. He was almost more red than silver… It was almost like blood. A shiver involuntary ran down her spine.

He needed a good polishing, seeing that he couldn’t even properly reflect a sunbeam. Maybe if he was a bit shinier, he wouldn’t be quite as upset. Similar methods often worked for her.

“Now that you’ve gotten rid of that simply horrendified old thing, maybe you can listen for a moment. It isn’t as though you have anything else to do…Oz knows that I don’t.”

[tinhearted]

Tap tap tap.

Glinda’s shoe, not her voice, seemed to rouse Boq from his stupor. The curved impracticality of her footwear (something no Munchkin girl had ever worn, surely), that exasperated little tap, the uncanny ability to transform plain annoyance into something breathtaking-...it shone like a beacon in the darkness of bitter old age, reverberating back across the decades to grab at something deep in Boq’s chest.

It wasn’t. It still wasn’t.

The eyes didn’t change, but the stare seemed to widen. The frozen swing became a sudden jerk back, stilted and desperate. A shrill, keening shriek filled the hall. Flakes of rust cascaded into the air. 

It Wasn’t.

“Go away.”

His lips didn’t move. It was doubtful his lips could move. Even back when he’d been a thing of shine and sheen, no hinged jaw could have made a human voice sound..well...human. The Tin man’s mouth was a facade. A facade he no longer needed.

Instead the words came from somewhere about his throat, hoarse and stricken. 

“Go Away.”

[hastily-deactivated20210318]

Those who are heartless, once cared too much.

(via genesisriofrio)

[tinhearted]

🔶 (winK WONK)

🔶 a kiss on the neck

Her hair fell freely against his cheek, her collar bone rising up to catch the curve of his chin. The scent of her perfume filled his world from top to bottom. It was everything. Everything he’d ever wanted. Everything he’d ever thought- 

Well, no. In actual fact it was a stiff, awkward little thing; more Lip-Brush than actual kiss. But in the pink-tinged corridors of Boq’s mind it soared like a dream. He’d kissed her! Kissed her! Kiss-

…Sweet Oz. He pulled back sharply, the world spinning back into sharp, horrible focus. Enraptured joy had been punctured, even in Boq’s heady little world, by the sharp javelin of reality. He went pink, then very, very pale. 

He’d kissed Miss Galinda!

[trybelievingx-deactivated201701]

{tinhearted}

“Maybe!” said Boq, in the brightly manic voice of the already-mostly-asleep, and began to absent-mindedly rock Addaperle as she dozed. Only the threat of impending wailing was keeping Boq half lucid and sensible, and even then only just. 

Twice already he’d fallen asleep at work; Once whilst fixing the massive dish washer at Granny’s (Boq had spent an afternoon snoozing quite happily on the kitchen floor, half-in half-out of the thing. Granny had been, thankfully, mostly sympathetic,) once half way up a ladder, cleaning the school’s drainpipes. (He’d learnt his lesson that day– no most climbing jobs until Addaperle stopped wailing. Or until they found a nanny.) And this didn’t account for all the cat naps and nodding heads and sudden jerks awake in-between. 

“Will you stay asleepified tonight, Addy?” Boq mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed, “Will you?”

“I have no idea what asleepified means but if if she does, I’m game.” Tink sleepily held her arms out for their daughter. Maybe, just maybe, if she could sleep just once, in the morning she might actually be able to be functional. They needed a babysitter. Or a nanny. Something to help them get a few moments to themselves. But the money for that with only one salary coming in. 

Ever since their little bundle of joy had been born, every other aspect of their lives had suffered to a degree. Tink looked like a shell of herself, most days struggling to stay even half away for her daughter. At least her tin man had the luxury of coffee. It had very quickly dawned on her why exactly fairies were always made and never born.

Yawning, she settled the baby in between where they often shared their bed and curled around her like a cat with a kitten. “Please sleep…mummy and daddy are so tired…” 

[tinhearted]

Boq handed Addaperle over with little resistance. Right here, right now, it was likely he would have done just about anything suggested of him. Anything at all for five minutes of blissful quietness. 

Sleep was a luxury easily and readily spent. After so many years of waking tin, a human Boq had learnt to embrace unconsciousness with tearful, welcoming arms. He could sleep anywhere, at any time, simply because. But Parenthood, he’d discovered, was much like the old days: Sleeplessness, confusion, sometimes blind panic, only now without the small mercy of not needing it all.

Thusly un-babied, Boq stared blearily at the opposite wall, struggling to piece together a coherent string of words, a vaguely human response. Then, with barely a pause to de-crumple his night-shirt, he folded up gently against the bed-covers, enveloped in the warm cocoon of absolute nothingness. 

“m’by could...sing...to her...” he mumbled, passing briefly back through semi-consciousness. 

[tinhearted]

👫

Send  👫 for 4 headcanons about our muse’s relationship

Had Boq and Galinda actually spent an extended period of time with one another, Boq would have slowly come to realise just how different the reality of Galinda is from his dreams of Galinda. This wouldn’t have happened immediately– Boq’s perceptions of How Things Are tend to be extremely hard to break down to persuade otherwise- but given time. Given time. Hero worship doesn’t last forever. Not even the Munchkin variety. 

Even after decades spent as the Tin man, Boq still remembers Glinda’s birthday. Every anniversary, every special occasion, it’s all still there, ingrained from years of unrequited obsession. He remembers these things now not out of love, but out of a cold, clinging sourness. Glinda…does not. 

 For a good while into their relationship post-Dorothy, Boq steadfast refused to call Glinda ‘Glinda’, and instead continued with ‘Galinda’ for as long as he could. This was back when love still sat arm-in-arm with unhinged hatred, and Boq was prone to random acts of petty spite against his situation. He didn’t want Galinda to have changed, he didn’t want her to be different. He wanted her to be as she was, back when his life made sense. before Nessa. 

 In the first two terms of Shiz alone, Boq spent almost his entire years budget (a small sum, sent lovingly with him from home, and nothing like the money spent by Boq’s Gillikinese peers) on Miss Galinda. Gifts, cards, everything and anything he thought she might like. Only Fiyero stepping in tactfully last minute saved Boq from embarrassing pennilessness. 

[daedaluscried]

@tinhearted

“ Wa’hid mi al’kabb, “ Ari let the words loose into the air as she reached forward to gently stroke Boq’s hand, “ Look very nice today. “

[tinhearted]

“Wa-h....Wah-ee..” Boq fumbled the syllables, his face screwed up in tight concentration. “Oh Oz...”

He wasn’t used to words not... well, not sounding like words. It felt...oddified. Wrong. Like trying to speak backwards. Boq’s was not a tongue accustomed to newness, to the concept of languages unlearnt. Not for the first time he felt a flush of deep, horrified admiration for Ari. At the sheer awfulified notion of Ozian sounding like that. 

Finally he gave up, smiling the damp, nervous little smile of a boy eternally desperate to please. Even here. Even now. 

“Y-you look...lovelified..” he managed.  

[onceuponamusing]

                i will be as FAIR to the world                                      as it was to ME.

               ——NOT AT ALL.

[wanderingozian-blog]

what if life is a magic trick?                                                                some quick slight of hand just to make us think.

independent oziandra “rain” thropp

                 wicked years saga      non-selective

[tinhearted]

I just saw your cosplay and HOLY HELL YOU'RE SO CUTE

OH GOSH, THANK YOU FRIEND!

Man, what a blast from the past! Those pictures must be well over a year old by now, and I...wish I knew where I put that costume. It's definitely due some maintenance!

[wordsnquotes]

I care.        I care a lot.                It’s kinda my thing.

Leslie Knope  (via felicitysmoak)