teartopieces-blog

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ATTENTION i have relocated blogs! woo! u can find me at RIGHTREACTION !

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✿ billie eilish — song starters ✿

feel free to change these around.

“i have taken out my invisalign!”

“don’t say thank you or please!”

“so, you’re a tough guy?”

“i like it when you take control.”

“i can’t commit to anything but a crime.”

“i must be missing something.”

“i guess I’m pretty glad that you’re alone.”

“please don’t try to kiss me on the sidewalk.”

“what is it about them?”

“i do what I want when I’m wanting to.”

“all the good girls go to hell, ‘cause even god herself has enemies!”

“don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

“i don’t need a Xanny to feel better!”

“i’m the bad guy duh!”

“i’m gonna run this nothing town!”

“you said she’s scared of me?”

“they’re late to EVERY party.”

“your silence is my favorite sound.”

“they’re awfully bad at learning.”

“i can’t afford to love someone.”

“man is such a fool, why are we saving him?”

“tell me which one is worse, living or dying first?”

“i’m okay, i’m not your baby.” 

“look at you needing me.”

“you know i’m not your friend without some greenery.”

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                        My love had been frozen.

               𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒆,        But you painted me ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ.

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amomentxofhappiness‌:

@teartopieces liked this for a starter from adam [for sarah]

        “We miss you at the precinct,” Adam admitted as he watched her arrange the shop. “Well I miss you. I got a rookie assigned as a partner.”

A DEEP PANG of a reckless sort of nostalgia coats her stomach, her chest  —  it’s not necessarily something she would willingly revisit, “.. we all miss things, adam.” she’s not looking at him, not yet, she’s sorting four clay-red colored pots of tulips. they’re her favorite, come to think of it. she might take one home. she turns to him then, one pot in hand, “i was a rookie once, if you recall.” there’s an odd smile along with the words as she walks past him, setting the flowers on the front counter. arms cross, her lower back leans against the cool of the desk, makes a point to ignore his first statement for the time being. more focused on that rookie, “so they’re having you babysit now?” there’s amusement in sarah’s tone, hah, she remembers dealing with newcomers. all wide eyed, ready for justice. it’s good, really, that ambition is useful. 

“..hardest thing is watching their eyes dull when they find out they’ll mostly be giving out parking tickets and organizing folders rather than catching anyone red handed.”

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End of Love - Florence + The Machine / Miranda - John William Waterhouse

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i made a new muse her name is bonnie she’s a vice principal and a Lesbian so someone please let me use her thank u 

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kiantrev‌:

“Oh,” he chuckles softly at the compliment, resuming with trimming dead leaves and vines with a small pair of shears. “I learned with the gardener back at the orphanage, where I grew up. She’s a great talent with her flowers and greens, she even kept a rose bush alive through winter once.” He said with a thoughtful hum.

“It’s soothing to the soul for me, to do this. It’s good to keep an eye on the things you eat, too, and it’s always best to grow what you can, even the smallest flowers.”

Kieran carefully stands to stretch, fanning himself a little with the sun hat he wore. It wasn’t a very hot day, but with how he’s been tending and cleaning the area all morning, he’s build up a light sweat. “I think the Lady is eager to have some more flowers to be assembled into bouquets since she’s planning that ball soon. Exciting, isn’t it? To attend a grand party and to mingle,”

HE TRIES TO picture what that atmosphere must’ve been like, an orphanage. he had only heard of them in funding bills and backstories. perhaps slightly chaotic, a strive for some sort of order, one that wont do too much damage  —  confusion, longing, but something lovely as well. he listens with intent, these stories came to him as a privilege, “the student becomes the teacher, and here you are.” is said, and in suit, a warm, meaningful smile. he wonders then, if he had started his own garden, would anyone notice? someone might take over, assure theo that he did not have to do his own gardening. seemingly kind but bordering on force, that was his life. nothing ever quite felt like his, though he was given everything he could have ever wanted.

his smile falters ever so slightly, and with kieran’s words he’s ripped from his hazy, flowery fantasy. that of subtle anonymity, simple exchanges and calm glances. he tries not to seem too passive over it, “some people are groomed well for such constant.. extravagance,” he begins, feeling generous with his words. his gaze is turned down on a little pocket of dirt in the ground, scuffing it a bit with the tip of his shoe, “truthfully, my friend, i find it all a bit boring.” he meets kieran’s eyes then, hoping to find something there as he feels a soft, lukewarm gust from his fanning. 

he sets a hand on the other man’s shoulder, turning them in an attempt to suggest strolling, walking slowly toward the cobblestone, “.. there are other luxuries to explore, my friend. devoid of fancy dishes and vacant conversation among the highest of classes, meant to be some sort of honor.” theodore had been to more balls than he could count. they held a certain atmosphere that was hard to place, something phony, illusory in the air. such wide smiles and with nothing behind them. it was an interest party, means for exchange and petty gossip. he could never plant his feet there, the evenings rolled on like an ill-fitting suit, scratching at his skin. yet here, with the gardener, felt like coming up for air, “such events don’t deserve swells of your flowers. from the ground, with love and care, to a stale room filled with meaningless chatter, just to be ogled at for one evening only.” head turns, “do you ever wonder where it all goes, when the night comes to an end?” a pause, “the garbage, if children don’t come to pick petals first, stuff them in their hair.”

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kiantrev‌:

@teartopieces

“It’s a lovely day, and the vegetables are growing well. This is good soil here, healthy and fresh,” Kieran says, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Beside him, sat a basket full of potatoes, carrots, and a selection of herbs. The gardens are flourishing, as Spring has arrived. The flowers are well maintained too, with the occasional busy bee and butterflies buzzing around to collect honey and nectar. Although, the cobbled stone walkaway lay pristine, as not everyday the people of the mansion spend time in the gardens. You’d only find Kieran here, with his gardening gloves and tools, working away.

“Pamela collected some flowers for the sitting room in the house. Daisies and carnations are a pretty sight to brighten up a room.”

THEODORE FELT sun-warm & accompanied, the smell of greenery bringing back fond memories. he recalls an incident when he was six, among the vast garden’s of just one of his grandparent’s properties. two nasty skid marks on his then adolescent knees, marked with hints of green from freshly cut grass and mending with the bright crimson that kept him alive. 

the thought comes and goes like a breeze, as he’s much more focused on what kieran has to say, “what is good soil without a good gardener to tend to it?” he compliments warmly, standing above the seated man, hands interlocked politely behind his back. a soft contentment on his face, his head cants in the hopes of catching a glimpse of kieran’s beyond shadows cast by things interrupting the sun’s beams, “i think you may be right,” he offers, lips pressed thoughtfully for a moment. then he kneels, aching to be level with the gardener, hands planted atop his thighs. a lingering look scans over the plants, the basket, then settles on kieran once more, “.. you appear to be quite in tune with the earth and its gifts,” he says, “where did you learn such things, if you don’t mind my asking?”

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OPEN / ian

“I’M NOT SURE THAT becoming runaways will solve any of our problems.” though, it is the most theatrical answer. ian’s oddly attracted to the idea of that, something short of outlaws.. whether it’s rose-tinted from years of movies and books or entirely impractical and impulsive, destined to fail, “.. where did you come up with that?” after turning to them for a moment, he looks back up at the sky, squinting. thoughtfully, he hums; he’s just shooting shit now, “what would we do for money? break dance in the subway for change?”

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“i do not believe in love at first sight but i do believe in recognition. seeing the same pair of tired eyes in a new, unfamiliar face, and catching their elbow to stop them before they disappear into the veins of the city. they look at your hand, and then your face, and they smile blindingly, saying - oh. there you are. i’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

— o.g.k (via anxiousbucky)

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griponmx‌:

colin was patient with him. he understood he was insecure and he wanted to help him by just doing the most honest thing. loving him beyond achilles’ doubts. he approached him when the other finished speaking and placed his finger on his lips to shut him up. “we can talk about last night. or about your recent words.” his legs made contact with achilles’. “or we can have beautiful sex and then have breakfast outside, maybe walk and feed the ducks.” he said, kissing his fingers and then his forehead.  “besides, when you’ve got a boyfriend that rides your penis as you do, i don’t think tolerate you is even fair to begin with.”

EVER THE BLUNT, colin never seemed to struggle with quieting achilles. achilles himself was hardly one to object; if anything, this came as a blessing. he only watches him with WIDENED, curious eyes for a small while, takes in their words carefully as they came to him. he tries to think about the concept of anyone else saying this to him.. maybe he’d roll his eyes into oblivion, make a joke or two out of it. yet colin held a certain class, a certain calmed suave that achilles had a hard time placing. regardless of the seemingly un-categorized way he seemed to dance around achilles problems like they were minuscule in comparison to this great and grand thing they had going, he takes a shameless interest in it.

a brow quirks, a hand wraps around colin’s wrist and lowers the finger gating his mouth, “you always did have a way with words, cupcake.” something mockery, a breathy chuckle escapes  —  achilles feels defeated in a good way. his eyes fall shut, feeling light, taking what colin gives him. with his mouth, his words, achilles finds himself feeling very present. he marks that as a tiny victory, “.. my my, you’ll have to give me that guy’s number, then. he sounds great,” it seems his mood has entirely shifted, switching gears, and whoever he was not even five minutes prior was half left behind now, simmering somewhere far more dull in the back of his brain, maybe even in another place entirely. he can forget most of it for now, and let himself have this; he thinks he has colin to thank for that. 

he gives the other man a quick look up and down once they’ve parted, pulls his legs from underneath the duvet when he turns to colin, and rests a lingering hand on his thigh, “.. take all that off,” he requests, “let me see you.”

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tewwor‌:

“That.. depends on what you’re thinking,” Gideon replied slowly. If Achilles was wondering if the lady was flirting with him then the other would be correct. If it was about something else though.. then he wasn’t too sure how to respond. 

He pressed his lips together in a slight frown and took the time to sip from his drink. “I wouldn’t really call it discourse. It wasn’t exactly a dispute over the subject of plants. Although I suppose you could label it as that to some extent. And I’m hardly playing detective- that’s Bethel’s thing. I just worry about the well being of the plants I’m selling, and think it’s rather silly if you don’t make an effort to care for something you just bought.”

“YOU’RE GIVING mother nature a run for her money,” he states, a little smile accompanying the remark. there’s something charming and entirely smitten-inducing about a man with a mind for plants. achilles supposes it’s the seriousness; the GENUINE concern. where most would show a brief moment of worry and move on, to more lively things, things with eyes, lips, lungs, gideon seems to linger in kinder places, plants his energy in finer spots like you would tulip seeds in a small family garden. achilles thinks it’s something short of irresistible to witness and hard not to indulge. 

he shifts in his seat, legs crossing over one another. his face begins questioning before his words do, “..so, this woman,” he begins, an attempted but successful nonchalant wonderment set in his tone, “did you.. reciprocate?” he has a feeling about the answer, but for some reason he wouldn’t put it past gideon to leave out key details if they weren’t achilles’ business. wouldn’t put it past most people, actually. 

he adds a little something else in case that goes south, and it comes out a little curt, “ — you would hate my place, by the way.” he leaves out the dirty laundry and leftover chinese containers, “.. fake plants everywhere. i had a fern once,” clears throat, “it died. i left home with a green plant and came back with a brown one. i think i’m a terrible parent,”

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so WHOM wants to hmu with some period plots.... where r my vikings @ .... where r the royals ... where r the pirates ....

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griponmx‌:

colin was already awaken, but he didn’t open his eyes. one of the things he enjoyed the most was silence. as soon as achilles spoke, he thought that he’d barely some sleep. he wasn’t the kind of guy, or partner, that would join an argument. colin just talked in his usual, peaceful tone. but he knew achilles wasn’t the same. he’d had quite a rough night. he hoped he was feeling a bit better. “where else would i go?” the man said calmly and then turned his head to him, opening his eyes to find achilles’ sleepy face. his pointing finger positioned on the other’s naked back, gently caressing it before moving to his face. “you should get some rest. it’s early.”

THEIR CALM DICTION managed to somewhat tame something unruly in achilles, and each time felt like the first, “somewhere far away from here. or, uh, from me, at least.” he says, but there isn’t a readable sadness on his face. something slack and indifferent, unmatched with the sensation in his gut which felt closest to dread. a slow inhale through parted lips, then his tongue darts out to wet them, bring them back to life, “i wouldn’t blame you,” and he finds himself really, really meaning that. he wonders if he would date himself, if he were someone else. he wonders if he’d find wonderful things about himself to fixate on, wonders if he’d have achilles dreams, sweep himself off of his own feet. he isn’t entirely sure, “i’m rested,” he reassures, weirdly irritated by their spoken gesture despite its purity. he sits up at it, rubbing his eyes with his fingers, squinting into it. 

he takes a moment to turn, takes in the sun again, it’s brighter than moments ago. for a moment he wishes he was outside, sun-warm and lonely, “i wish you’d..” his gaze flies around the duvet like he’d be able to find answers sprawled between its creases, he blinks rapidly, “..put me in my place when i get like that,” he finds himself saying, bordering on a subtle, contained anger, “..insecure. stupid. i’d never be able to tolerate myself if i were you.”

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CLOSED / @griponmx

MORNING COMES slow like a stroll, and achilles had been awake to watch it bleed through the curtains, illuminating the blinds behind their cream veil. last night’s discussion sits with him like an unwanted guest, a nuisance  —  the weight of it is familiar in insecurity, but unwanted nonetheless. it’s damaging; he feels like spoiled goods when he gets like that, doubtful, and he’s come to realize the lines between facts and DISASTERS of his own creation begin to blur the longer he’s seeing someone. colin is kind and quiet like a patient breeze, and achilles can’t picture a life with him. can’t play it out in his head, and  sometimes that gets to him more than he’d like to admit, for a writer he should have a better imagination, right? the irony pains him; he rolls onto his latter side, meets colin’s face coated in sleep. achilles audibly breathes in, a light whistle coming from his nose, “you’re still here,” is said finally, observed, voice adjusting to speaking again.

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tewwor‌:

✧･ﾟ gideon / charlie starter call (accepting) | @teartopieces･ﾟ✧ 

 “I wouldn’t get that here,” she muttered just loud enough for the other person to hear her. The line before them barely moved, but she had noticed how the stranger had been looking at a few specific drinks that were listed on the menus that hung above the front counter. “They’re roasts are good, but they dump in way too much syrup.”

“I THINK YOU underestimate my tolerance for sweetness.” when sarah hears a friendly-seeming voice beckoning her, there’s no question when she responds. she knows people, likes people, has been dealing with them and getting to know them her whole life ( sometimes more personally than she’d like ). this was nothing, this was cake, fleeting, whatever. she got this; arms cross, she squints at the menu, pauses, “.. my mom hates fancy drinks. she’s all like, just drink it black! that’s classic! and i say, ma, there’s nothing classic about drinking battery acid. pass me the damn sugar and milk,” she speaks as though she were talking to a longtime friend, a small chuckle jolting the latter of her sentence. she glances at the other, “in layman terms, bring on the syrup.”

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tewwor‌:

✧･ﾟ gideon / charlie starter call (accepting) | @teartopieces･ﾟ✧

“I like to think that I’m a little more observant than most people think- even Bethel agreed with me on this. Two weeks ago, this lady came in and asked about succulents. So I gave her the usual background and helped her figure out what kind she wants. After that, she’s on her way out. Then just last week, she comes back saying that they’re dead, and she doesn’t understand why. So I ask her about it, she gives me some very vague answers. I was going to ask a few more things, but then she interjects and wants to buy more. I was a little reluctant, but I suggested a few that might have been a good fit and then she left.” 

“Just yesterday she came back in and claimed that she couldn’t figure out why her new plants died.” It was at this point and time that he needed to pause and sigh. “Now, at this point, Bethel also has her ears open and gets the gist of what’s going on. So she stepped in and helped the lady. I understand what she’s doing, but I’d really appreciate it she didn’t kill half a dozen plants just to make conversation or drop a hint.”

“ARE YOU SAYING what i think you’re saying?” a thoughtful pause, achilles had never paid much attention to flowers or even plants. sure, a brush of wild flowers was a sight for any set of sore eyes, and their vibrancy is often hard to miss, but he can’t say he’s an avid fan. gideon is kinda interesting like that, he knows the names of them, and maybe it’s common knowledge; achilles is not fond of being uncommon. maybe he should buy a flower dictionary, “discourse in the flower community.” he lets that sit on his tongue, heh, he allows himself to smile at it too, subtle and clever like an inside joke only his face knew about, “shouldn’t you be picking petals rather than playing detective?” he humors.