I’m constantly caught between wanting to write so bad I ache and having no inspiration/motivation/willpower to do so
One of the reasons I haven’t been active around here. Or anywhere. Idek
contrarymuses reblogged
Allie looked at her phone and her heart almost jumped out of her chest. Hurry was NEVER a good sign. So, she dropped the pan into the dish water and wiped her hands on her jeans, jogging out to the barn that was across their yard.
When she walked in, she spoke before seeing anything. “What’s wrong?” she asked him, stopping when she saw what was lying right behind him. The squeal that came out of her mouth was almost sonar. She’d never jumped up and down this excited outside of cheerleading. Running at him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “I love it,” she told him. “I love it so so so much.”
Kaygen couldn’t help the grin that spread onto his features at her audible squeal at seeing the prize he’d brought home. The calf raised it’s head lazily, blinking slowly at her as if to ask why had his nap been disturbed.
Kaygen caught her around the waist with a laugh, taking a moment to bury his face against her hair. “He’s all yours, darlin’. I got him just for you.’ he told her, glad that he was able to make her happy.
[Text to: Allie] hey i need your help out in the barn [Text to: Allie] hurry
There’s no emergency out in the barn, though of course he’s acting like there is so she’ll get out here faster. He couldn’t be normal and just tell her there was a surprise for her waiting out in the barn.
It might appear to some that Kaygen didn’t listen. Granted, sometimes he didn’t. But he had in fact paid attention and listened every time Allie had expressed her love of sweet baby cows anytime they passed a pasture of them in the truck or even when they were out riding the Grant land.
Kaygen shifted back against one of the posts in the barn where he sat, fingers scratching the head of the calf curled up beside him, lulled into a peaceful rest at the touch of his hands while they waited on Allie to come out to the barn.
contrarymuses reblogged
voxvulgi:
Adonis heard Rafe’s footsteps before he came, but he waited for Rafe’s voice before he turned away from his work in progress to face him. Adonis wore an apron, which had seen its fair share of paint in the past hour. He had moved the couches to repaint the wall behind them a shade of green he thought Rafe might like. Rafe was moving in, after all.
This was really happening.
Adonis had to pause for a moment, at a loss for words as he looked at Rafe – the version of Rafe with an excited spark in his eyes. And all for a book. Adonis couldn’t hold back a faint, awed smile.
“You can help me after you put it away if you like,” he finally said, keeping a distance between his body and the still-drying wall. In a split-second, something occurred to him before Rafe could reaction to his suggestion: yet another suggestion. “Raphael, what if we paint the bookcase?” It was new, much larger than Adonis’ old one. In fact, it was big enough to cover an entire wall in Adonis’ – their – bedroom. It was also perfectly wooden, which made it perfectly paint-able with whatever leftover paint Adonis would have left.
Rafe gripped the book in his fingers tightly a moment as a wave of panic tried to grip his heart. Though he was recovering and definitely in a healthier place in all aspects, that crippling self hatred tried to creep back in and remind Rafe that he didn’t deserve this happiness and that he was only going to ruin Adonis’s life.
He’s brought back from the dark place by the pure voice of Adonis calling him back to the present with his answer to Rafe’s offering assistance. Rafe smiles, relaxing as he set the book on the couch as he moved to stand beside Adonis, head tilting to admire his handiwork so far.
A hand subconsciously reaches up to brush against the small of the other man’s back, the action no longer foreign or frightening but rather normal and welcome to Rafe, done so much now it was purely muscle memory. “I like that idea. You already have the paint and I think it would add a nice touch to the--our bedroom.” he smiles at the words, happiness surging all through him. Never in a million years did he picture such happiness for himself, never had he thought himself to belong somewhere and be wanted.
“Although, we do need to eat at some point during this process.” Rafe said warmly, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What do you want to do tonight? Order in? Cook?”
“I’ve found another book.” Rafe didn’t take books lightly, just like most things in his life now. A second chance at a happy life had been given and Rafe was not taking it for granted. He felt like the books he gathered were found things and he wanted to give those books a chance at a good life, just like him.
Rafe leaned a slender hip against the doorway, fingers threading through the pages of the aged volume, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “This one can finish off that top row.” the thought warmed him, the very idea that he had enough books to fill up an entire shelf. More so, that he had a home in which that shelf resided.
He glanced up, still smiling, something he did more than he had in his life. “Do you need some help in here before I put this away?”
contrarymuses reblogged
“YEAH, I, UH—just…” He doesn’t even KNOW how to explain that he was casually walking around one of those small shops in gas stations when he stumbled upon something that reminded him of HER. Sure, there are a few presents for Kayla, too. Some coloring books and other things, but those would have to wait to be unveiled until morning, once the little girl gets the rest she deserves. “I got it right here, shit—” He fumbles around; patting his pockets. Daxten is CERTAIN it’s SOMEWHERE in his jacket. He saved it there when he finished paying. Fingers then feel dainty chain; pulling the item into his fist. Now that he thinks about it, he feels RIDICULOUS. But now he’d said it, so he has to give it to her. “Here.” Daxten bruised and callous digits grab her hand, as carefully as possible, and place the item on her palm. It’s a necklace with a flower pot and a little trowel. “You don’t…you don’t gotta wear it, I just—I don’t fuckin’ know—I…had to.”
Parker watched him try and locate the object and was about to tell him that it was alright, not to worry, when he produced it. Taking her hand, the action always startling her just a bit, Parker looks down as the delicate weight of what she’s sure is a necklace is deposited into her pale hand.
She smiles, eyes misting over slightly as he moves his hand away, revealing that is in fact a necklace. A necklace that he had to of carefully chosen for her as the flower pot and trowel was something that was unique to her.
Her fingertips graze over the dainty thing, still smiling as she looks up at her, warmth filling her at the very thoughts he must have had of her when it came time for the choosing of his gift.
“Thank you.” she whispers, her voice tight, causing her to clear it. She shakes her head a bit, sending loose, blonde hair bouncing back as she goes to clasp the necklace around her neck. “It’s perfect--I’ll gladly wear it.”
Hands string the necklace against her throat before disappearing behind her head as she makes quick work of attaching the clasp. The necklace falls comfortably just under her throat as she moves her hands away to touch the charm gingerly, committing it’s form to memory.
“A perfect fit.” she smiled, hands falling to her sides now as she stands across from him, wanting to say more, to spill about anything and everything that had occurred in his absence, to inquire about his travels, his injuries that she suspected were present.
Instead she said, “Would you like something to eat? I imagine it’s been diners and gas station cuisine for you, yeah?”
contrarymuses reblogged
tinymute:
There was something wonderful about the way he lit up when he realized she had been listening. His smile, pure and elated, brought a joy back to her she thought she had lost. For such a logical girl, she was a hopeless romantic.
Just as quickly as she had the thought, he was pushing the book over to her. Juliette snapped back to attention, gently tracing her fingers over the drawing on the page. For something that had been so ingrained in her nightly routine as a child, she had not thought about selkies until recently. His passion for these things was enough to bring it back.
Her gaze shifted back up as he told his story about going…Sasquatch hunting? Her bright eyes were large and curious, a certain sort of wonder on her face. She rested her jaw in her hand for a moment, wondering what it was like to have an upbringing like that.
“To be fair, I have never been camping. At least, outside of a really expensive R.V. I do not think that counts when you have wifi and a full size fridge, huh?”
Juliette giggled a little.
“I do not think Papa would take me selkie hunting. Does one hunt a selkie? No. I do not think he believes in Sasquatch. Would you ever go ghost hunting, Brandon?”
“You’ve never been true camping?” Brandon exclaimed, not out of shame but sheer surprise. He hadn’t been camping in quite a while but they had gone several times during his childhood before the accident and maybe even a few times after, if he was remembering correctly.
“I mean the RV route is how I would camp now--but that’s just because I’ve gotten too used to comfort and I’m fucking spoiled so,” he lifted his shoulders easily, the statement not bothering him in the slightest.
Brandon grinned at her, fingers splayed out across the glossy pages of his new book at the mere mention of ghosts. “I want to go SO bad. Like, I’ve actually got some of the equipment that I’ve saved up and bought here and there, just in case a situation should arise me to actually go ghost hunting--” he paused, trying to slow his rambling. “I think it would be great but I wouldn’t like, taunt ghosts. That’s super fucking disrespectful and I ain’t about that.”
He swallowed, having to pause again as he was getting too excited. “Would you go? Ghost hunting? Like, we could uh go together if you’re wanting to go.”
contrarymuses reblogged
SENTENCE MEME ⟶ WOLF 359 / 06 - Super Energy Saver Mode always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.
- ‘it’s our anniversary today.’
- ‘i can’t tell you how happy i am to have you here.’
- ‘i asked you for your top five ‘stick it to the man’ songs, not the nine hundredth digit of pi.’
- ‘you’re way overthinking this.’
- ‘it’s a taste thing, there’s no wrong answer.’
- ‘ask me for my top five of anything.’
- ‘what are your top five british naval battles of the 1800′s?’
- ‘what are your top five celestial positioning coordinates?’
- ‘you’re just yanking my chain, aren’t ya?’
- ‘i don’t know what i want, but i know how to get it.’
- ‘i would highly discourage that course of action.’
- ‘wow, are you upset? i didn’t know you got upset.’
- ‘i do not get upset. i can, however, get frustrated, ruffled, and or an eensy, teeny bit incensed.’
- ‘did i ever tell you about that time i thought he was trying to kill me? any of those times?’
- ‘things don’t ‘get’ to me.’
- ‘i’m just afraid that sooner or later that man is going to do something reckless.’
- ‘score one for old-school AA’s.’
- ‘let’s just wait for this to get sorted out.’
- ‘okay, maybe this isn’t one of those wait and see things. maybe it’s one of those imminent death things.’
- ‘jeez, has this place always been so ‘overlook hotel’-y?’
- ‘i know minimal information about the situation or its context, but i am ready to place all the blame squarely on your shoulders.’
- ‘what?! that makes absolutely no sense.’
- ‘you act like everything that goes wrong around here is my fault.’
- ‘everything that goes wrong around here /is/ your fault.’
- ‘look, i had no idea what that dial did.’
- ‘i’m reaaally sorry they had to amputate those toes, but it was an honest mistake!’
- ‘what about the time you poisoned that litre of water trying to make whiskey?’
- ‘i could do this all night.’
- ‘here we are in a potentially lethal situation, and all you want to do is talk about how much of a screw-up i am!’
- ‘the only thing you’ve done for the past 500 days have been sleep on the job, endanger our lives and continually make stupid jokes.’
- ‘is… is somebody there?’
- ‘if this is a joke or something, it isn’t funny.’
- ‘what the hell was that?!’
- ‘why are you underneath that table?’
- ‘any idea what’s going on?’
- ‘i’m guessing this isn’t one of those ‘gets better by itself’ situations.’
- ‘so, basically we’re barrelling towards certain death?’
- ‘how about we skip straight to the making it better part?’
- ‘do you have any idea what you’re looking for?’
- ‘oh god, it’s spook-tastic in here baby.’
- ‘okay, enough! i’m dealing with a genuine life and death thing here so if mr ooga-booga-whispering wants to tango, he’ll have to take a number and have a seat, ‘cause my dance card is full at the moment!’
- ‘look, if this is some kind of weird attempt at being funny, it’s really not cool.’
- ‘[strained] alright, alright, you got me! very funny! ah ha ha ha ha! ha. ha…’
- ‘what do you want?’
- ‘there’s something majorly weird going on here.’
- ‘i know what i’ve been hearing.’
- ‘this is going to be real simple.’
- ‘wait, wait–– what do you mean? i’m not the first what?’
- ‘somebody’s going to get hurt.’
- ‘woah. what just happened? did everything just kind of flicker out for a second there?’
- ‘it looks like we’re not going to suffocate or blow up any time in the near future.’
contrarymuses reblogged
tinymute:
Between the two of them, there was enough weird to fuel an entire school. Did Juliette mind? No, not a bit. Brandon was a sweetheart, and he understood her better than most people did.
Had she gotten into cryptids sheerly to impress him? Absolutely. Did he need to know that? Absolutely not.
“I am more biased towards selkies. My dad used to tell me stories about them when I was little. He is so…very Irish.” Juliette grinned a little.
There were a lot of things he liked about Jules, so many he could spend quite a while naming them off. But one of the best things about her (next to her smile, her eyes--whoop, off track) was that she didn’t judge. He was able to be himself around her--weird quirks and all.
He made quick work of flipping the pages that were in alphabetical order, something that pleased him more than he could say, right to the ‘Selkie’ section, as he had asked what her favorite was. Brandon’s eyes moved over the drawing on the page a moment before pushing it over for her to view.
“Selkies are some of the better stories honestly.” Brandon said, eyes bright. He was quite passionate about his cryptids. “And they could be true. They all could. You never know.” Brandon insisted. “I prefer Mothman but I like all the stories.”
“My dad took me Sasquatch hunting before--well, ya know.” he shrugged, resting his arms on the table before him. “I stayed in the tent the whole time like a pansy.”
“OKAY OKAY I GOT A NEW CRYPTIDS BOOK.” the boy’s excitement is obvious by his yelling but if that wasn’t enough, the smile on his face gave away his happiness.
“It’s got all of them in here--the Bunyip, the Kraken, Nessie of course.” Brandon continued to explain as he flipped through the pages eagerly. “Which one is your favorite?”
also this blog is a COVID 19 free zone bc talking about it puts me into a really bad state of mind and I don’t want that or need it.
So my muses aren’t talking about it and there won’t be any opens or threads revolving around the state of things in 2020 so far.
Thaaaaaaaaaanks
OKAY
I got the old dashboard back but I got a notification saying that editable reblogs won’t look the same?? Idk, it looked fine to me so after I do my homework I should be able to be here for a little bit and I guess we’ll see if things work how they’re supposed to
I’m just so dang tired and turning on my laptop takes so much work lololol
I’m planning on bringing Hank back too bc I miss my ex-soldier with two moms and a limp
So unless you as my partner don’t mind cutting posts, I’m going to be more active via discord until tumblr decides to get their shit together with this awful beta shit.
I’m very open for plotting and headcanons here though!!
contrarymuses reblogged
Boots went left by the door because heaven forbid he track mud into the house, he noticed Allie did the same. It was natural for them, they moved just as they had a dozen times before.
A quick trip up the stairs and some half assed looking on Kaygen’s part produced a pair of Macy’s flannel print pajama pants and a t-shirt she had complained was too big for her.
It was also too big for Allie, which made him feel like it was his shirt she was wearing and nothing replaced that feeling, nothing at all. Kaygen also changed but nothing so drastic as he stayed in jeans pretty much 24/7. A grey t shirt with a trucking company logo across the right side of his chest is in place of the chambray shirt however.
He accepted the cup of coffee, allowing the liquid contained behind porcelain to warm his hands. His brows came together at the mention of her mother being sick. “I feel like Gran mentioned that in passing–but I didn’t know it was that bad.” he admitted. Had he known, he would have stopped by and offered any help that he could have.
“If there’s anything that I can do, just ah…..just let me know.” he trailed off, taking a slow sip of his coffee, not wanting to offer ‘i’m sorrys’ or ‘oh that’s rough’–she didn’t want that. Kaygen set the cup on the counter and crossed his arms over his wide chest. He didn’t ask about her father, wasn’t going to. The man didn’t deserve the time of day.
“Just don’t go takin’ everything on by yourself.” Kaygen stated yet still knowing how she was. He glanced out the window as the rain picked up, pelting the windows loudly but not an unwelcome sound to his ears. “You’ve got a bad habit of that.” it’s a remark made in humor and also a stab at himself because they were so alike sometimes it was downright ridiculous.
She didn’t know if he remembered, but she remembered the day that he got that shirt. They were a town over looking for a truck part and she insisted they stop at a thrift store. While they were there, she had joked about how he would be the best trucker because he hated talking to people. She bought him that shirt as a joke, knowing he would be the best rancher she ever knew.
Her eyes fell to her hands when he looked out the window and she sighed. Her independence was the death of her, of her engagement, and of she and Kaygen. They were just independent in different ways.
“She just needs people to drive her to appointments and daddy can’t do it all the time,” she admitted. “And he really isn’t handling it well at all. Never seen him yell at God, but I––” Maybe she shouldn’t tell him what she’d walked into last night. It wasn’t really her business and he was the Reverend. He shouldn’t be exposed like that.
Old habits.
“I’ve got worse habits,” she countered, hoping to take the attention from her cutting herself off. “And you do too, cowboy.” She peeked up at him, laughed through her nose, and continued. “I’ll be okay, really. I can handle it. The twins are practically grown now, so it won’t be as bad as last time. They’re seniors next year and can be more independent than last time.” Eight years felt like an eternity. “But thanks. I know you’ve got your own stuff going on and all. There are rumors about all your plans, you know.” She tried to smile, but that rumor was a little too painful. She’d heard at the cafe that there was an engagement and she wasn’t totally sure, but it seemed like it was true.
He remembered the day he got the shirt. What he wouldn’t tell her, at least not now is that he had worn the shirt to nearly falling apart after she had left. It was his favorite shirt and it made him happy, getting him through those rough days when he didn’t think he could bear being away from her any longer. Macy, bless her heart just thought him stubborn and not wanting to branch out and get any more clothing.
Kaygen listened intently, eyes never straying from her as he wanted to convey that he was listening, he was here for her. Whether he realized it or not. “I guess even the Reverend has some moments of being human.” and that was all he was going to say on that. Kaygen could have launched into a rant about her father, about how awful the man actually was.
But that was still her father. Kaygen had no doubt he would react the same way if someone made the mistake of talking about his mother.
Kaygen smirked, brows raised in good humor. “We’re not talking about my bad habits--you needed a friend, I’m listening.” he said with a chuckle. His humor faded however when she brought up future plans. His future plans. Plans that didn’t involve her.
He rubbed a hand down his face and sighed heavily, tiredly. “I don’t have much to do with these plans, if you can’t tell.” he gestured with his head towards the direction of the Grant place. “She’s up there, talking over things without me. And I’m here--with you.”
Kaygen was suddenly very aware of how alone they were. And how Macy knew that Allie was home and she had sent her down to the house anyways, knowing that they had been a thing at one time.
contrarymuses reblogged
Kaygen was met with moments they’d spent together–both good and bad–and couldn’t help but feel a little homesick himself when he looked at her. Home wasn’t always necessarily a place you resided.
He nodded, completely understanding that part. “Things are rough all over.” he mused, kicking at a clump of hay near his boot. He gave Jubilee a pat, eyes never leaving hers. Kaygen almost joked with her about the honesty but she looked so serious that he stopped it before it came out.
Kaygen grinned and dipped his head, chuckling softly. “That’s saying something if I did that. I’d say the same thing about you. Come on,” Kaygen said, pushing off of the stall.
“You’re nearly soaked through and talking might be more comfortable inside. Besides,” he cast her a look over his shoulder. “I need to rest my old weary bones.” Slowly but surely it was feeling comfortable to be around her again, almost as if she had never left.
When they broke eye contact to walk back to his house she felt immediate regret. She didn’t want to be here now. She knew she was going to cry. She knew she was going to need him more after this. It was a mistake. It was a mistake she was choosing to follow through with because she needed it. All of this.
“Old men do need lots of rest,” she teased. She ran her hand down Jubilee’s nose as she left the barn and walked back.
They went through the kitchen door and she kicked her shoes off like she had been there yesterday. She did everything like she’d been there yesterday. At one point this old farm house had felt like home. “Uhm…can I borrow a pair of Macy’s jeans…and maybe a shirt,” she asked him. “Wet and cold are the worst and I haven’t unpacked anything yet.”
She smiled as he ran up the old, creaky stairs to grab her something. While he was gone she pulled out the coffee grounds and started making a pot of coffee. Being here was like riding a bike.
After she’d changed and poured them both a cup of coffee, she pulled herself onto the counter of the kitchen island and looked back at him, now eye-to-eye. If he stood on his tip-toes, he’d be taller again. She’d always appreciated how much taller he was.
“Mom’s sick again,” she said over the rim of her cup. She just jumped into it. “And the twins are falling apart.” Her sisters did not handle real-life problems well. They drank her dad’s Kool-Aide and had some fear her mom deserved the cancer. “So I’m home.” Her voice was steady and her eyes stayed locked on him.
Boots went left by the door because heaven forbid he track mud into the house, he noticed Allie did the same. It was natural for them, they moved just as they had a dozen times before.
A quick trip up the stairs and some half assed looking on Kaygen’s part produced a pair of Macy’s flannel print pajama pants and a t-shirt she had complained was too big for her.
It was also too big for Allie, which made him feel like it was his shirt she was wearing and nothing replaced that feeling, nothing at all. Kaygen also changed but nothing so drastic as he stayed in jeans pretty much 24/7. A grey t shirt with a trucking company logo across the right side of his chest is in place of the chambray shirt however.
He accepted the cup of coffee, allowing the liquid contained behind porcelain to warm his hands. His brows came together at the mention of her mother being sick. “I feel like Gran mentioned that in passing--but I didn’t know it was that bad.” he admitted. Had he known, he would have stopped by and offered any help that he could have.
“If there’s anything that I can do, just ah.....just let me know.” he trailed off, taking a slow sip of his coffee, not wanting to offer ‘i’m sorrys’ or ‘oh that’s rough’--she didn’t want that. Kaygen set the cup on the counter and crossed his arms over his wide chest. He didn’t ask about her father, wasn’t going to. The man didn’t deserve the time of day.
“Just don’t go takin’ everything on by yourself.” Kaygen stated yet still knowing how she was. He glanced out the window as the rain picked up, pelting the windows loudly but not an unwelcome sound to his ears. “You’ve got a bad habit of that.” it’s a remark made in humor and also a stab at himself because they were so alike sometimes it was downright ridiculous.
contrarymuses reblogged
He was ready. Kaygen wasn’t one to back down from a fight and fighting was about the only thing they had done prior to her leaving. So he was fully prepared to have a knock down, drag out argument out here in the barn with no one but the horses to witness such a spectacle.
That look made his knees weak, though she wouldn’t be able to tell. Or, at least he hoped she wouldn’t be. Kaygen wasn’t about to become a mess in front of her, not after he thought he had gotten all of that out of his system.
Because he had been a MESS when she had left. Things had bettered in the sense that he wasn’t disappearing for days at a time or the occasional drinking binge. He missed her.
The anger left out of him then not even leaving an ounce of it behind. If he hadn’t just been thinking the same thing about her, he might’ve scoffed and brushed the whole thing off and launched right into the inevitable argument that was coming.
“Shit.” he mumbled, raking his hair back with his fingers before replacing his hat. “You sure know how to throw me off guard, Allie.” Kaygen took the bridle from her gently, just to lay it out of the way or maybe just to give his hands something to do.
“But….you always do.” he smiled at her then, a real smile, one of those smiles most people didn’t get. “You miss me huh?” Blue green eyes study her carefully, trying to find something that might suggest otherwise.
Say it.
“Maybe I can talk for a little while. For you.”
As a woman, she knew she should feel guilty for being here. But Macy knew she was here, Macy knew some of her history with him. Maybe not all of it, hell she didn’t know all of it herself, but some of it. Her guilt had to be cast off because being right here was exactly what she needed right now. That and maybe a cup of coffee.
“I’m not trying to catch you off guard,” she said. She couldn’t break eye contact. She couldn’t. Looking at him forced her to be honest with herself, at least as much as she could allow herself. Some things, at least right now, she couldn’t be honest about. “I mean, I did ask Macy if I could come…and I wanted––” She stopped and cleared her throat. “I’ve had a really rough go of it the last two years and God knows it isn’t letting up. I’m trying my hand at good-old-honesty.”
Allie pushed her hair back from her eyes, the wet strands still sticking to her face.
“But I do miss you,” she restated. Her brown eyes were earnest. They were so frustrated and hurt, too. “I may not miss home, but I miss the parts of home that are important…and being back, I need something to keep me sane and grounded. You always did that for me.”
Kaygen was met with moments they’d spent together--both good and bad--and couldn’t help but feel a little homesick himself when he looked at her. Home wasn’t always necessarily a place you resided.
He nodded, completely understanding that part. “Things are rough all over.” he mused, kicking at a clump of hay near his boot. He gave Jubilee a pat, eyes never leaving hers. Kaygen almost joked with her about the honesty but she looked so serious that he stopped it before it came out.
Kaygen grinned and dipped his head, chuckling softly. “That’s saying something if I did that. I’d say the same thing about you. Come on,” Kaygen said, pushing off of the stall.
“You’re nearly soaked through and talking might be more comfortable inside. Besides,” he cast her a look over his shoulder. “I need to rest my old weary bones.” Slowly but surely it was feeling comfortable to be around her again, almost as if she had never left.