FALLING DOWN!

[dcnkim]

COMPLETED KATHERINE PIERCE COMMISSION FOR @rightreaction

[jennyslcte]

BUCKY COMMISSIONS!  buckycommissions.tumblr.com

Hey, everyone! So, I finally decided to open up commissions. I’ve been making graphics and other things here in the community for so long and have been dying to make personalized things for all of you! 

Editing is something I love so much so I thought I’d turn it into something more than just a hobby! I can basically create just about anything through photoshop, so the options are basically endless. Just tell me what you’d like and I’ll whip something up for you. 

I went ahead and created a blog to showcase what I can do, etc! The link is above!!

PRICING AND GRAPHIC EXAMPLES CAN BE FOUND ON THE NAVI PAGE OF MY COMMISSIONS BLOG. THANK YOU AND ENJOY!

[rightreaction]

closed — @teatwosugars​

HE HAD SEEN BUDDY in dreams that moved like syrup and blossomed like splitting wounds. yep, buddy was there in the lines of finn’s knuckles after all this time, like streams, like ribbon, only to be pulled and scraped off clean ready again for the night following, then the one after that, and after that  — oh, and that wednesday afternoon, napping at mum’s, too. just passing through. that was a good one. it’s worse in that bedroom, you know? or maybe worse is the wrong word. it’s pleasant in the same way seeing someone you aren’t fond of getting decked clean in the mug; hey, shame we had to resort to violence but, can’t say i’m not recording the crack of your nose. and the form was great, too, nice straight wrist. it’s a great big mucky dream of how’d i get here? and buddy’s presence is violence posing as beauty, or maybe not, because he is beautiful, that’s true  —  finn thinks about the bridge of buddy’s nose sat on the bench in his prep room. not bad this time  — towels, thank fuck, clean ones. oh, and a mini fridge. buddy’s nose is small like his hands, like his tolerance for the unextraordinary. like the time in between desperate meeting mouths, gateways for murmurs. what the fuck were they ever saying? finn can’t recall now  —  the fridge is leaking. it’s splattering on dull, imperfect, grey concrete. making it dark. looks like paint. the walls are brick painted white, big wide brick. buddy is pale and fine like a pearl. like the ones on that fucking horrid mermaid statue his ma had picked up on a cruise passing the cayman islands. finn looks up when the door creaks open and thinks, rude. 

it ain’t rude for long. “hey, uh,” not his manager. it’s an older looking gentleman with a blue collared shirt. looks like a dad, like he shouldn’t be working here. finn wonders if he has kids. “..your boy’s back.” the man’s mouth opens like he had something more to say, but he only nods and leaves. probably wise. finn breathes out with the click of the door, allowing himself to slouch. so, he had seen him. he had been on edge since he won, since he stepped off, since he smiled quick and wet with sweat, and got out of there so fast. finn’s near numb when he reaches for his phone, on a small wooden table, next to his smokes. he should smoke after this, yes. he’d like to smoke with buddy. 

“hey, uh, buddy’s there? ...  send him in. no  —  yeah, i’m good. swear it, mate. send him in. alright. yeah. alright, buh-bye.” he would be seeing rick later that night, schedule stuff  —  but hopefully he’ll be seeing buddy first. 

[rightreaction]

cxultnt‌:

he should’ve known pink would be hot, searing pink, but the heat of their bold blunt observations was like a surprise party, ribbons and all. frank loved a party, was a sucker for indulgence, and even more so for the kind of candied candidness the frantic angel seemed to delight in doling out. call a spade a spade, a spanner a spanner, frank a cowboy. “ and ‘eres me thinkin’ you was just a looker. “ insulting kim’s intelligence and complimenting the way the fluorescents hit them like a pearl, all at once, and without the mushy bit about the pearl ? a win. cowboy. it stung the end of his tongue, he was vaguely concerned for a moment it might’ve stumped him into excitable silence. the way they moved with urgency had him mirroring their beat, and when they scrambled he sat up, on his knees, properly. cowboy. cowboys didn’t swoon so easy. he leaned back on his heels.

“ didn’t know the place was ‘ere, if i’m honest. “ which he was, always, painfully. a quick glance at his surroundings reminded him of why, as did the constant nagging knowledge in the back of his head that he’d agreed to fix up the stage for free on the promise that it’d take ten minutes and he could have a drink on the house that night. the starlet sat at the front of the stage like they owned it, like they owned the empty audience, like the empty audience adored them, like frank was the audience and the show and he adored adored adored - they didn’t need to know either. honesty wasn’t always about the truth, and the only honest thing frank had on his mind was the promise of a song. “ honeymoon. “ not a question, not a statement, just an honest sincerity. hammer strewn down with all the grace of an oaf, he shuffled forward, sat beside them, just a little away. terrible posture forced his hands clasped in his lap, his head turned toward them with the cracks of a crooked smile. “ don’t get me hopes up. you look like you know a man like me too well. “

“OH, I’M A LOOKER. i’m looking at you right now.” so it’s more like a tango, now. maybe that’s a better fit  —  the tango was meant for the streets, for the clumsy lovers. they’d be square dancing if clive wasn’t planning on wearing heels. would they size up to him, then? have you ever seen a cowboy do the tango? “honesty is hot. here’s my slice; i forget this place exists even while i’m in it. usually a few drinks in,” that’s the picture clive will paint for the western dreamboat. them, confused, in the swell of the crowd. it’ll take one capable man to bring them back to earth!

clive’s got company. cowboy has taken it upon himself to hop up on stage, not like a performer, like a nail, hammered into clive’s side like a stranger at a bus stop. where is that communal feeling coming from? no bus to wait for —  maybe it’s the honeymoon swirling in their heads like a melting ice cube turning pink lemonade into a one way trip down the drain. clive’s staring, unabashed. “sit up straight  — i want your hopes all the way up. that way it’ll be deliciously disappointing when you realize that i’m actually just shmoozing you into fixing the AC in my dressing room.” not true, kinda true. the ac could be fixed, so could the posture, but his smile couldn’t. this smile is perfectly lopsided like the shoulder of clive’s dress. he’s tall even when he sits. clive wants to be the hands in his lap. 

they hop down from the stage, and stand before the elevated hercules. he looks like he’s on a throne, now. “will you? come see me?” they ask, “i’m going to be looking for you, you know. don’t get my hopes up.” desperation sat like a chicken-shaped cook timer on the pink marble counter of clive’s desires. they think, for a moment, about cowboy under the hot spotlights. maybe he’d sweat, little beads, and he’d look good next to a cactus. or a clive, adorned in planned obscenities and cheap pearls. there’s a dress with fringe at the edges they could wear. 

[rightreaction]

cxultnt‌:

curiosity killed the cat and came bloody close to killing frank when he, ungraciously distracted both by being called santa and by being called santa by a flushed looking pseudo-victorian who screamed pink! like a rosy siren beckoning him toward the very wooden board he’d been fixing, tripped and stumbled and steadied himself on the upturned splinter. all that charm he’d been congratulating himself on felt like cold sweat on his skin now; he wasn’t sure whether he’d lost it or was soaked in it completely. “ oi. “ lost it. “ keep yourself off the naughty list, if you know what’s good for you. “ soaked in it ? worth the thrill, either way, of their nimble back and forth. he eyed the tangle of wires in their hands, followed the loop of their fingers as if they were an extension of the chaos, fixed surely to hands to wrists to arms to a body he pulled his eyes from before he might be considered a creep. he was, after all, stood in paint-spattered, wood-chipped, sand-ripped overalls, and he hadn’t shaved in a week. maybe the santa comment was warranted.

in all his usual attention to detail, he hadn’t noticed himself move to pick up that wrench, but he had, and was glad of something to do with his own hands. he had the immovable certainty of a man who would give nothing away, and it comforted him, most of the time, only it didn’t in the present, and as a man with a reckless abandon to match, he’d much rather be an open book when there was somebody around to read it. the way their eyes darted made him think they might want to read it. so with a rusty nail held between his teeth, bent at the knee, he got to work fixing the board back amongst it’s well-worn neighbours. “ acrylic. “ he was talking to kim but he was speaking to the siren. “ i’m an acrylic man, meself. gel glares. it ain’t pretty. “ pretty, punctuated with a wink in pink’s direction. it was campy, shameless flirting, but he was never one to skirt. in went the nail, and as he hammered it down level, he could see a little cartoon in his head, like the ones he’d draw on napkins in bars; gruff, scruff of a man nails a scrap of paper to the LONELY HEARTS BOARD, ‘seeking OH GOD PLEASE LOOK AT ME AGAIN, contact them at ARE YOU REAL???’, whilst an all-american angel sits on a heart-shaped cloud amongst a tangle of headphone wires. 

IT’S THE START OF A BAD JOKE or an even worse porno. a builder and a drag queen walk into a club.. one is falling head over heels over nails and the other is half-costumed, dreaming about handy manny’s strong, capable arms. clive quirks a brow, “..so you’re gay.” stereotyping, are we? “ —   or an annoyingly effeminate straight man, taking up space. just crush my dreams already, hercules. i can hardly stand it, ” it’s big and honest, a billboard on the western dirt road of their conversational waltz. clive wants to watch him forever; cowboy seems to move with familiarity, duh, he’s doing his job, but it’s fascinating like watching an ant carry a piece of your entenmann's crumb cake across the shabby chic tile. you shouldn’t just watch, you should do something about it, clive. they opt to pull an earbud out, never connected to anything regardless, and lying on their stomach. chin engulfed by palms, they’re watching the home depot commercial unravel before them. 

clive blinks in time with the hammering. soundcheck be damned, “say, cowboy,” they begin, “you come here often?” now they’re scrambling, all fabric and soft grunts, to sit up, legs swinging off the end of the stage. clive’s the doily hanging off this thrifted coffee table. cowboy is the handsome stranger in the window. “if not, you should. because this place is falling apart at its cum stained seams. one more high note from me and the whole house is coming down, and not in the good aretha franklin way.” there’s some silence from clive, watching. “..and you should also come see me tonight because, if you’re gay, then we can have a honeymoon and i can sing you a song. any song, i’m very versatile  —  and if you’re straight, i can just take pictures of you and frame them. do you model?”

[rightreaction]

cxultnt‌:

closed ! - @rightreaction​

hammered nails and hardy laughter were tricks that lived, nestled, up frank’s rolled up sleeve, comfortably. both came easy, both were part of the job, and he could fish them out without a moments notice to fix up a bathroom and sweet talk his way to an increased rate and a cup of tea. and whilst he sat now waist-deep in a dive-bar stage with a queen feeding him their best, not the best, lines, he flexed both. easy. his charm was trickery, perhaps, but it was genuine, sincere trickery, like a street magician pulling a quarter from behind the ear of a passing child and handing it off as a souvenir. it passed the time. it made people smile. it meant his ego was as hard as rock and in his ‘line of work’, it helped. “ wrench, sweetheart, if you could. no it’s- yeah, nah, that’s a screwdriver. to the right. your right, not my right. “ he’d been entertaining the entertainer who’d been keeping him company, but when bustling skirts settled beside the very tool he needed with a rustle, the pencil tucked behind his ear lifted with the curve of his smiling cheeks, warmth spreading like lace trim across his face. fanned out, all-encompassing, a little fragile, if you were to take a pin to the holes in it. he’d found himself staring at a pin in the hem of the stranger’s whispering dress, and felt like that very same street magician, only caught having had the quarter up his sleeve the whole time. “ darlin’, on me’ mother’s life, please tell me you know what a wrench is. “ the darling in question was so darling once his eyes adjusted, that he thought he’d be quite happy to reveal every secret in his toolbox. that of all thoughts made him grin a little wider, askew, earnest. 

IT HAD BEEN A DAY of shortsighted glamour and lights so hot they turned clive into howdy doody attending a gay prom. it was a more convincing look than packed on blush, they’d admit. but the sweat was unlike a highlight and speaking of highlight, clive might’ve found theirs for the day in a rough and tough walking men’s health issue requesting tools from the unqualified. and presenting the kind of kindness you’d find when an older man holds the door open for you. 

“jesus, kim. you should know a wrench since you’re apparently as smart as one,” it’s a comfortable murmur meant for the queen who could dish and take only, and in suit comes a compact mirror nearly chucked at clive’s wigless head. a monotone thanks is chirped back upon its arrival. clive was sitting, legs spread like a doll on a shelf, elbow deep in a bag of their belongings on the worn scratch of the stage before mr. all legs and terms of endearment came strolling up like a calvin klein pop up ad. you’d think a company like that would be above such a thing, right? eh. kinda tacky, guess it fits. 

curiosity leads the gently wide-eyed look on clive’s face and lift of their chin; it’s all eyes on the cowboy. “sure,” they say, certain, simple, and eyes find their bag again. shuffling, searching, “..but i do specialize in hammering.” clive breathes out a grateful ah once they find what they were looking for, no time to laugh at their own remark. headphones. they marvel at the tangled wires as if someone wasn’t standing there. clive stands then, dress following, tucking one earbud into their ear. “don’t you have a little helper or something? if you’re looking to employ kim over here, don’t bother. you’ll call for a nail and she’ll ask if you’d like gel or acrylic.” good lord, he’s hot. and not princess rosacea clive under the dazzling lights of the club deemed accurately as ‘ the cum stain hotspot ‘ by its patrons hot, like hugh jackman hot. like the kind of hot you dream about in high school and tent your grandma-picked khaki slacks over. the kind of hot that remains unattainable and disappointing when spotted in real life, oh, long, tan and handsome has a wife and three kids and doesn’t wanna flirt with a broke singer-dancer cake eater who is staring at them in this target bikini section. what a ripoff. clive looks at bob the builder curiously, “get an elf, santa. not a queen.”

[rightreaction]

me: has new characters to add but is too lazy to add them <3

[vhsmeme]

* love ♥ starters

‘ want me to stay? ’

‘ we’re almost home. ’

‘ you should be in bed. ’

‘ we can share it.’

‘ stay there. i’m coming to get you. ’

‘ shh, shh. you were dreaming. ’ 

‘ grab my hand. ’

‘ i’m just going to pick you up. ’

‘ everything okay? ’

‘ i won’t leave you behind. ’

‘ don’t worry. better out than in. ’

‘ who did that to you? ’ 

‘ sit down and rest. ’

‘ sweetie, i would never think that. ’

‘ come lay down in my lap. ’

‘ i know you think you’re all alone out there, but you’re not. ’

‘ call me when you get home. ’

‘ we should change those bandages. ’

‘ you’re safe here. ’

‘ honey… ’

‘ of course we love you. ’

‘ wait here. i’ll go run a bath for you. ’

‘ take my bed for tonight. ’

‘ i promise. ’ 

‘ you’re always welcome here. ’

‘ don’t talk like that. ’

‘ bad dream? ’

‘ talk to me. ’  

‘ it’s okay to cry. ’

‘ you need to be more careful.’

‘ we should hug this out. ’

‘ i worry about you. ’

‘ can i hold your hand? ’ 

‘ because i care about you. ’

‘ it made me think of you. ’ 

‘ take care of yourself. ’

‘ put your seatbelt on. ’ 

‘ where did you go? ’ 

‘ i didn’t mean to worry you. ’

‘ i made breakfast. ’

‘ sing something for me? ’

‘ open it and find out. ’

‘ how long have you been like this? ’

‘ you look nice. ’

‘ here, take my jacket. ’

‘ close your eyes and try to get some rest. ’

‘ focus on my voice. ’ 

‘ i meant every word. ’

‘ i was here all night. ’

‘ look both ways before you cross. ’

‘ you don’t have to talk. ’ 

‘ this is your favorite, right? ’

‘ you’ll feel better in the morning. ’

‘ you have a nice laugh. ’

‘ here, take my jacket. ’

‘ you could stay here. with me. ’

‘ we’ll figure it out together. ’

[weakenedtrees-deactivated202007]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*send me some FRUIT & VEGGIES and i’ll answer some QUESTIONS*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

PEAR - favourite muse?

PEACH - least favourite muse?

APPLE - first muse?

BANANA - oldest muse?

ORANGE - youngest muse?

TOMATO - least used muse?

POTATO - most used muse?

EGGPLANT - most sexual muse?

GRAPE - most innocent muse?

ONION - most emotional muse?

BROCCOLI - muse most likely to moan the wrong name?

CARROT - clumsiest muse?

ASPARAGUS - strongest muse?

TURNIP - most damaged muse?

SQUASH - a muse you’d date in real life?

PUMPKIN - a muse you’d hate in real life?

MELON - muse whos the most fun while drunk?

LEMON - muse who would be the least fun at a party?

LIME - a fc you’re a sucker for?

CHERRY - favourite pair of fcs to put together?

CRANBERRY - number of muses?

PEPPER - favourite plot for your favourite muse?

[frodo-sam]

[persephonememes]

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 /  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠.

❛ Sometimes you don’t get another chance, you know,  to-to fix the mistake. ❜

❛ I moved the earth and the water for you. ❜

❛ I can’t help but love you. ❜

❛ Oh my God, we’re going to do this again, aren’t we? ❜

❛ I’ll never forget the first time I saw your face. ❜

❛ You’re pregnant? ❜

❛ I love you. ❜

❛ There is always risk. At least when you love someone it’s worth taking. ❜

❛ I find more peace with you. ❜

❛ You are so beautiful, it hurts sometimes. ❜

❛ I didn’t want you to fight alone. ❜

❛ Why are you telling me this? ❜

❛ I love you, thorns and all. ❜

❛ You promise? ❜

❛ I want her to be happy. It’s worth sacrificing myself. ❜

❛ I believe in you and as long as we’re together I know that’s nothing we can’t do. ❜

❛ I hope to see you again sometime soon. ❜

❛ Can you just stay through the night? ❜

❛ I will be here with you. ❜

❛ I’m always gonna love you. ❜

❛ Would you ask me out for dinner, already? ❜

❛ How’s forever? Does forever work for you? ❜

❛ Whatever you choose, you’ve got my support. ❜

❛ It’s okay, I can be alone with you here. ❜

❛ I know I love you. I know that you love me. ❜

❛ I stayed up to talk to you. ❜

❛ Never far from you, my love. ❜

❛ I love you. Now save me. ❜

❛ You were worth the wait, and I don’t just mean tonight. ❜

❛ It’s always been you. ❜

❛ We can have any future you want. ❜

❛ Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while. ❜

❛ You make me want to be a better man. ❜

❛ Would you just stay with me? ❜

❛ I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and the thing is, I love you. ❜

❛ Most of my life I felt alone, even when I was with people. That was until I met you. ❜

❛ We’ll always have Paris. ❜

❛ Don’t you see? Don’t you understand? You’re the love of my life. I can’t leave you. ❜

❛ I’ve been in love with you for, ever. ❜

❛ Do not die. Do you understand? I can’t live without you. ❜

❛ I’ve always been in love with you. ❜

❛ I love you, and I’m not going to stop loving you. ❜

❛ I love everything about you. Even the things I don’t like, I love. ❜

❛ I’m not going anywhere. ❜

❛ My world is a better place with you in it. ❜

❛ I fell in love with you, smartass, because you were one of us. ❜

❛ If you were going to die, I was going to die with you. ❜

❛ I am broken and healing, but every piece of my heart belong to you. ❜

❛ You are my salvation. ❜

❛ She’s mine. And if any of you lay a hand on her, you lose that hand. And then lose your head. ❜

[rightreaction]

“..i’m here if you need anything, okay?” to amara from megara!

🍓  — MEMES / accepting

“YEAH, so i can be the world’s biggest charity case? awesome. that really makes me feel great.” and what could megara give amara that amara couldn’t give to herself? the idea of that felt like knives in her fucking spine. she’s shiny and red like a polished stoplight, and that should be a metaphor for all things. 

oh, and she’s tugging at the delicate, curly hairs at the base of her neck with posture less than correct. “if you just wanna stand there & make me feel stupid then fuck off.”

[rightreaction]

“ what happened ? “ and @ finn!

🍓  —  TWO WORD STARTERS / accepting

“YAE’KNOW WHAT? you can ask the div downstairs who decided to let his dog shit all about the grass out front.” more than anything, finn’s just lucky the police officer just around the corner who had understandably heard the wailing of a man being force-fed dirt and decided to check in, was a friend of the club & let him off with a warning paired with a stern look. 

finn’s pacing and pulling a bandage wrap around his fist; oh, and word vomit. “absolutely no consideration for others. you know we can’t afford gardeners? so who’s gotta clean that up? me. and i won’t have it,” 

[rightreaction]

“ wanna bet ? ” @ ox :*

🍓  —  TWO WORD STARTERS / accepting

OX OPTED TO ENCOUNTER new things in the same way someone might approach a pet they didn’t wanna spook. never ashamed in his ignorance, a soft hum fills the air before he speaks; “a bet.” saying the T pointedly, he feels the weight of that on his tongue for a moment before he’s struck with an idea. he’s a little proud of it, a sure smile coming into gear. 

“OH. i believe you meant to say bed. i actually have one of those already, but that’s really kind. have you seen the foam ones?” in suit comes a shoulder squeeze, reassurance he felt was necessary. “it’s alright, my friend. it happens.”

[evilsbitch]

two word starters

“ please don’t ”

“ i’m sorry ”

“ trust me ”

“ fuck off ”

“ don’t go ”

“ please stay ”

“ i tried ”

“ you’re wrong ”

“ you’re right ”

“ i know ”

“ don’t run ”

“ go away ”

“ don’t stop ”

“ it’s hard ”

“ don’t cry ”

“ we can’t ”

“ calm down ”

“ i’m scared ”

“ make me ”

“ wanna bet ? ”

“ run away ”

“ don’t look ”

“ i promise ”

“ try harder ”

“ believe me ”

“ don’t move ”

“ you’re mean ”

“ i’m cold ”

“ you’re beautiful ”

“ hold me ”

“ let me ”

“ come here ”

“ shut up ”

“ fuck off ”

“ it’s complicated ”

“ you’re okay ” 

“ wake up ! “

“ you’re on “

“ i’m pregnant “

“ you’re sick “

“ how long ? “

“ what happened ? “

“ stop it “

[rightreaction]

🍓 — open starter / ABOUT FINN

THE ORIGINAL PLAN was to look as inconspicuous as possible ( which may have put a target on his back, honestly ), hood up and pacing, reach the front door without a comment from his mum, hit the gym and then go for a drink. now, the only thing standing in his way is a patron of the hotel and the pang of guilt in his stomach. 

“ah.. i’m actually off the   — “ as if; the escape plan ends as soon as it starts. finn shrugs his duffel bag off his shoulder, “..alright, yeah. what d’you need?”

[purplehearts-pinkfarts-deactiva]