TINZMAN: TENDER, gentle, awful sentimental. an independent, canon-divergent portrayal of [ 𝗕𝗢𝗤 𝗪𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗦𝗠𝗔𝗡 ] the tin man, mixed canon && primarily WICKED ( 2024 / 2025 ) based. studying: yearning, devotion, && the losing of one's humanity. low activity. 21+. written by frank ( he/him, twenty7. ) information below.
1. pinterest. 2. playlist. 3. prompts.
rules are super simple:
i work full time && do have other blogs, so i'm low activity.
my portrayal is mostly wicked based, but i do take other elements from mixed canons ( primarily in regards to after boq's transformation.) i'm also canon divergent && have never read the wicked novel nor seen the original broadway production ( i'm a fake fan don't come for me :') )
i do think this goes without saying but this blog is not spoiler-free.
there may be triggering content present, probably not much but you never know. things will be tagged accordingly ( "trigger //" ) additionally there MAY be nsfw tho likely not much, again it will be tagged.
lastly, i'm frank (he/him, 27.) discord available upon request.
𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 & 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 (a series of nonverbal prompts . mature themes present , ‘ my ’ muse belongs to the one who posted the meme - send “ + REVERSE ” to reverse the prompts .)
→ 𝐈 . GENERAL
❛ hush . raise a finger in a gesture to silence my muse .
❛ sit . gesture for my muse to sit down .
❛ door . hold a door open for my muse .
❛ tap . tap my muse on the shoulder to garner their attention .
❛ hunger . give my muse something to eat / drink .
❛ cook . present my muse with home - cooked food .
❛ brush . work a brush / comb through my muse’s hair .
❛ read . silently read a book alongside my muse .
❛ hand . hold out a hand for my muse to take .
❛ dressed . help my muse put on an article of clothing .
❛ note . give my muse a note saying : [ content ] .
❛ amplify . turn up the music in the car .
→ 𝐈𝐈 . ANGST
❛ patch . help my muse patch up a wound .
❛ night terrors . hold my muse after they wake up from a nightmare .
❛ company . silently sit with my muse to comfort them.
❛ hospital . my muse is told that yours is in the hospital .
❛ revelation . show my muse evidence of a lie they told .
❛ indulge . find my muse drinking to cope .
❛ downfall . find my muse collapsed on the ground .
❛ console . comfort my muse as they cry .
❛ nurse . give my muse company in the hospital .
→ 𝐈𝐈𝐈 . AFFECTIONATE
❛ wink . wink at my muse .
❛ wrap . wrap an arm around my muse’s [ shoulders / waist ] .
❛ caress . gently caress my muse’s face .
❛ tousle . mess playfully with my muse’s hair .
❛ chest . place your head on my muse’s chest .
❛ comb . comb fingers through my muse’s hair .
❛ grasp . run to my muse & jump into their arms .
❛ lean . lean on my muse’s shoulder .
❛ tender . kiss my muse on the [ forehead / cheek / nose ] .
❛ abrupt . kiss my muse out of the blue .
❛ chaste . chastely kiss my muse .
❛ good morning . kiss my muse the morning after .
❛ volumes . gaze at my muse in a way that silently says ‘i love you’ .
→ 𝐈𝐕 . VIOLENT
❛ strike . [ slap / punch ] my muse in the face .
❛ gun . wield a gun at my muse .
❛ twist . twist my muse’s arm behind their back .
❛ throttle . aggressively wrap your hands around my muse’s throat .
❛ parch . burn my muse with a hot object .
❛ take down . forcefully bring my muse to the ground .
❛ gouge . wield a sharp object at my muse .
❛ shunt . shove my muse backwards .
❛ stickup . yell at my muse to put their hands in the air.
❛ shoot . [ fatally / non-fatally ] shoot my muse .
❛ stab . stab my muse with a [ knife / other object ].
→ 𝐕 . NSFW
❛ surprise . send an unexpected nsfw image to my muse .
❛ pin . push my muse against a [ wall, table, other ] .
❛ go down . go down on my muse .
❛ choke . intimately wrap your hands around my muse’s throat .
❛ belt loops . pull my muse closer by their belt loops .
❛ skinny dipping . go skinny dipping with my muse .
❛ rip . tear a piece of clothing from my muse’s body .
❛ mark . leave a mark on my muse’s body [ specify where ] .
" my, what do we have here? " lurline's leaf, ozmatoe, the unnamed god's foot. it is a plant of many names across all of oz, but its design is ultimately universal. the fact that it is seemingly growing in a steady bloom from the brim of his hat is, of course, neither here nor there. there is an impish curl amidst ever-creasing burlap, gently teasing and oddly fond: echoes of old memories, and the easy potential to make new ones. only if his companion wants to, of course. " what do you say, tin? any traditions spring forth? "
the ozmatoe is a nice touch: boq eyes it with a poorly stifled smirk, his head turning away so that the straw man won't see him fall victim to his charms. he will say this is one of the few times he's glad he's no longer flesh― as surely he would be flushed quite red at the suggestion. ❛ i can think of one ... ❜ he says with as much confidence as he can muster.
Nessarose hadn't intended to be seen , she wasn't even entirely sure why she had come to begin with. The governor knew she should have stayed home, heed the warning and laid low for longer than she had, and to avoid the man of tin who had taken part in the " killing " of her sister . . . Her sister's death was still fresh in the mind of many and the people who knew of her survival were understandably weary of her. Her eyes had watered watching him in silence When the ma in front of her called her Nessa she felt an all too familiar twist of her stomach, he hadn't called her that in ... she didn't want to think about how long.
“I took a service path. The guards change several times a day — very poorly,” she adds, her eyes lifting up to meet his and for a moment she hesitated “They think I am still in my study working on a statement to the people." She had finished the draft many hours ago , sent it off to be checked over. It was to be her first public appearance to address the people. When recovered she had redacted the “Animal Anti-Motility Law" and the law prohibiting Munchkins to travel. Her eyes studied Boq , keeping her distance but softening the longer she looked at him. There was no fear for a moment just a soft gaze as she truly took him in his current state.
Her gaze lingered on him earnest, searching. “I needed to know if it was true. That you were here. That you were… alone.” A pause. Her voice softens. “I couldn’t send anyone. Letters get read. Footmen talk. And this—” she gestures vaguely between them, the forest, the truth of what he’s become, “—didn’t feel like something that should be overheard.”
the man of tin stands perfectly still. his chest does not rise, for he takes in no breath: the only sign of life being the slight flickering of his eyes from nessarose to the surrounding wood, then back to her once more. but that can't be right ... when he'd seen the silver shoes upon dorothy's feet, he was quite certain that could only mean one thing. yet, sure as he is heartless, she appears very much alive.
boq isn't sure if it's relief that he feels, [ but something very close. ] confirmation of bad news eases the tension of the unknown― it's one less question to occupy his mind. though this is both a good && bad thing, as he has much more time on his hands as of late ( hours no longer wasted on sleeping. ) he's thought often of her: of them all, really. however, he finds the memories don't sting as much as he thought they would.
❛ ...―― you shouldn't be out here by yourself, it's not safe. ❜ it's spoken tensely, dismissive, if not slightly frustrated, his axe quickly embedded in the body of a felled tree. ❛ go home, nessa. ❜
he's found he doesn't mind being alone so much: at least there isn't anyone around to stare at him, to point && question what exactly he is. && for the most part he's been left to himself― save for the occasional traveler upon the yellow brick road, or the curious sparrow which perches upon a branch, watching him work. TREES ARE FELLED, the woodsman dragging them through the forest to process them, turn them into workable lumber.
it's his family's trade, after all. of course, boq never had much interest in it. he'd run off to shiz once the time came― hoping for a brighter future, a better life ... it's funny how one returns to their roots when things go astray, && he's doesn't mind it all that much ! at least he never gets tired, never is sore. the trees aren't as heavy as they once were, he develops no callouses on his hands from the axe he wields. && just as he raises it to begin processing the most recent log, he hears a loud SNAP― head whipped around to look for the source, && freezing when he finds it. @bitmorerouge.
❛ nessa―― ❜ he finds himself taken aback, speaking her name with disbelief. what is she doing all the way out here ?? && alone, at that. surely she didn't wheel herself all this way ... did she ? ❛ ... what―― what are you doing here ?? ❜