COUNTRY BOY;

"you saw his hands rise up to the sky above and you swore he took the power away from the sun." - apollo walked among us Grant Zachariah James. xxviii. the hot one

[dailydccast]

Love finds you. You always get smacked with love when you least expect it.

[grantzjames-blog]

EMMA VARGAS:

“I think that there’s a lot more that you can like. Maybe some chinese food or even some mexican. Those are great choices and I can be your guide towards all the new possibilities that this town has to offer.” She said with a wiggle of her brow, almost signalling that she would not take no for an answer. If anything, Emma knew that she was well adept at showing him all of the places in town given the number of time she’d ordered food from all over. “I think that I can do that. Probably two of my most favorite things; looking pretty and giving orders.”

“I’m sure that even if I said no, you would find some other way to get me to agree. I just hope it won’t be you coming to my house in the middle of the night throwing pebbles at my window with a bag full of food.” It was an oddly specific type of scenario that probably had her wondering just why he thought of it. His friends had a track record of sneaking into his room with pizza when his mother went through her health nut phases. The man did like fruits and veggies, but pizza is too important to not have. “Well then, after you do such a great job maybe you can start with one restaurant to change my southern heart.”

[grantzjames-blog]

closed starter for: @scarlettlacroix

“You needin’ something or did the horses just surprise you? Or are you lost ‘cause I don’t know how good my directions will be. I only know landmarks and such.”

[grantzjames-blog]

Grant + @phoebefairmont

[xxxxxxxzx-deactivated20170410]

send 🌙 for a moodboard of our muses

[grantzjames-blog]

+ @calvinjrogers

[grantzjames-blog]

EMMA VARGAS:

Emma smiled at him and nodded her head as she continued to eat. “You’re really good and I’ll be sure to come to you when I’m hesitant about trying something. But also, you should take this away from me before I eat it all — and I haven’t even paid for it.” She slid the food towards him and placed the spoon on the table. It wasn’t fair of her to keep eating his food that he’d ordered and paid for. As her arms crossed above the table, she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t mind painting, I’ve always loved getting dirty. Either way, all I’m going to say is that I’m not the best so it all depends on how important this wall is to you.”

“If it’s southern related I’ll be able to tell you what I think. I’m not too fond of anything else that’s outta my comfort zone if I’m honest. I once tried sushi and it’s not the worst thing but something I wouldn’t voluntary pick out.” He was more on food being cooked and the thought of eating something raw just didn’t sit well with him or his stomach. So he wasn’t that surprised when she continued to eat from his bowl and he didn’t mind. If anything, he’d get another one. “Then how bout you just supervise and look pretty? We need someone to tell us when we’re slacking off.” 

[grantzjames-blog]

JOSEPHINE RIPLEY:

No phone and no wallet meant no uber nor a taxi. She couldn’t even take the freaking bus home. All she had was a bag full of smelly jockstraps and a sour mood that was going to be hard to defuse. She sighed heavily, audibly, the sound running through her like thunder in a crowd, almost annoyed with herself for having to do this, “A ride? My fuckin– my students,” she corrected herself quickly, “Decided it would be funny to take everything out of my bag and now, I have no way of getting home.” Her arms dropped, nearly defeated, but the stranger still posed some hope for her. “I’m just a ten minute drive,” she thought– she couldn’t quite remember. Atlanta had changed since she’d last been there, and even when she’d grown up there, it sure as heck hadn’t been in Midtown. “If you don’t mind? I can– I don’t know… buy you a six-pack or something.” She tried to be as polite as she could about it, but she really wished she had something (or someone) to punch.

Grant growing up had always been the good kid in school. He didn’t do any pranks like his siblings did and tried to get ahead on whatever homework he had to do unlike his siblings in which they usually dragged things out. Of course, this was mostly all due to the fact that he was one of the first grandchildren to come about. He had to be a good role model for anyone else that came after. And so when the woman said she needed a ride because of a prank, he wasn’t the person to say he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t in such a hurry that he needed to leave someone who clearly needed help getting home. His mother would have a fit if he ever did such a thing. “Oh you don’t gotta buy me anything. You want anything at that Starbucks over there before we head out? It’ll hopefully make this situation a little better. I got...” He paused while getting out his own wallet and pulling out the first bill he saw, “a ten if you wanna get something. You don’t gotta pay me back either, it’s just ten dollars.” 

[livingforapromise]

Visit Original Link

[grantzjames-blog]

@phoebefairmont​

[dailyscotteastwood]

[grantzjames-blog]

EMMA VARGAS:

Emma smiled when he linked his finger with hers and then proceeded to give her the spoon. There was little thought about anything that was on the spoon as she immediately dipped it in and took a taste of the food. “Shit,” the blonde muttered, nodding her head. “You were right, this is really good.” It smelt good, but she hadn’t anticipated for it to taste this good. Without even asking, she dipped the spoon once more and took another bite — but this time however, she ate in silence. “I’m okay at painting. I did my own apartment and there’s a few little marks on the ceiling but nothing that’s super visible.” She admitted, which she felt was better than telling him a lie. “But I’d love to help, if only to keep you company and pointers while you paint.”

Grant had easily chuckled at her reaction to tasting such a dish. There was a reason he eat it and it sure wasn’t the amount of calories in it. “And you wonder why no one ever listens to me. If there’s one thing I know it’s how good some food can really be. And I know a crap ton about horses so looks like I know two things. You just write that down for when my mom says I don’t know anything.” Of course, the playful banter between him and his mother had always resulted in her saying such a thing when she was upset with him or shocked on how he didn’t know a specific topic. “Nah you don’t gotta paint. We might just hire people to do that if it turns out we both really suck. But I’ll gladly take the company and maybe you could point us in the right direction if we aren’t the greatest painters. Or better yet, keep the girls out of the paint.” 

[grantzjames-blog]

PHOEBE FAIRMONT:

“You’re in luck, I actually have an oven. I mean, I don’t use it, because I can’t cook anything but maybe a bowl of cereal. So by all means, come on over and wow me, please. Monday is perfect. I’ve been pretty free since work is stalled due to everything going on with Scar. We’re also still looking for our male lead. Looks like you get the whole day with me. You gotta let me make you something—well, order something. Like the best sushi in the city, or New York style cheesecake. I’ll order it to be sent to the house. Since that’s what we New Yorkers do. Then we’ll see who the winner is.”

“The whole day? Well would you look at that, feels like fate was just waiting on us to meet and discuss food.” Grant would’ve continued if he hadn’t listened to what she said after. If he hadn’t paused to think about it, it almost sounded like she was trying to ruin the perfectly good home cooked meal by bringing in something so opposite as sushi or cheesecake. But as he thought about it more, it turned into more of something that would happen on a different day. “I hope you mean you’ll bring that and not ruin my perfectly good food when I’ll have a slice of pie just waiting to finish everything off. Since it’s summer and all, it’ll either be blueberry or peach or hell, maybe even strawberry.” 

[grantzjames-blog]

JOSEPHINE RIPLEY:

O P E N    S T A R T E R

“Of-fucking-course,”she hissed, dropping her backpack angrily. Crouching, she started to searchthrough for her wallet, muttering to herself in soft anger and only pulling outhandfuls of jockstraps (a prank, obviously, that the boy’s had been brave enoughto pull). The further she dug, the more it became apparent that everythingimportant (phone, keys, wallet), were all gone. “Little shit stains,” shehissed, pulling the zipper closed roughly, rushing the fabric at the cornersthat were already torn and worn from overuse.

Her hand pressed to her forehead, jaw tensing as she tried herhardest to keep herself calm in public. Coaching was like having thirty littlebrothers, all the same age, and all with the same stupid and impractical senseof humor. But, they wouldn’t be laughing when it came time for practicetomorrow and she was having them run suicides for the first two hours ofpractice. But still, she was kind of impressed that it’d taken them this longto prank her. She at least had to give them credit for having the guts to doit.

“I hate to ask, but…” she sighed, eyes turning toward astranger, “—I promise, I’m good forit…”

It hadn’t been long since Grant had the chance to step away from his work and yet, he still took the opportunity like he wouldn’t have another one. And with past times he didn’t take it, you would see how quick it was to get caught up in all the work needing to be done. He was going to Starbucks, usually for their marble pound cake and sometimes one of their coffees if he was feeling like needing it. Today seemed like a spoiling day since he walked off with a large cup in his hand, easily sipping at the hot beverage though the temperature outside would label the man crazy in having such drink out and about. 

He was about to get into his car and drive back to the ranch. The workers there he did trust and yet he couldn’t help but worry that something wasn’t going to go right if he wasn’t there. Maybe it was from those school projects he had to do or that his parents had instilled the ‘if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself’ way of thinking into him. Whatever the reason may be, he liked to be looking over what he needed to do just to make sure everything was going as smoothly as he wanted. Plus, he might care just a tad bit too much for the horses. But before he was able to get into his car and drive off, someone had made him pause. They had made eye contact and that’s when she started talking. “Whatcha need help with?” He asked, not entirely sure on what she was getting at. Sometimes you had to spell it out pretty bluntly in order for him to get it. 

[grantzjames-blog]

# phoebe~

send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including:                            - what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone                                                 Penny Fairchild                            - what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone                                                      Click Here                            - what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone                                    Rascal Flatt’s I Like the Sound of That                             - my muse’s last text to your muse                      text sent: My sister won’t stop texting me the Snapchat map.                             text sent: She keeps telling me to get her nuggets.                          text sent: This update is gonna ruin lives aka mine.  

[grantzjames-blog]

#

send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including:                             - what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone                                                Emma Vargas                             - what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone                                                 Click Here                             - what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone                            Keith Urban’s John Cougar, John Deere, John 3:16                              - my muse’s last text to your muse                       text sent: Are you sure periwinkle purple is the one?                              text sent: I don’t think it is. It looks weird.                           text sent: Do you think one has sparkle in it?

[connectivitty-blog]

cell phone headcanons

send me “#” for cell phone headcanons about our muses including:                              - what your muse’s name is in mine’s phone                              - what your muse’s picture is in mine’s phone                              - what your muse’s ringtone is in mine’s phone                              - my muse’s last text to your muse

[grantzjames-blog]

TESSA LYONS:

Tessa was waiting for a friend at a bar downtown, excited to be going out for the first time in forever. Her siblings were at home with a sitter she trusted, and Tessa had actually made a little bit of an effort to look nice for once. Ten minutes went by before a text message came through; her friend had to stay home with her daughter after her sitter didn’t show.

“Well, that’s very disappointing,” Tessa mumbled to herself, looking up from her phone with a sigh only to realise the person next to her was looking at her, probably wondering what kind of weirdo she was.

“Oh, sorry… I was just… talking to myself.“

“Well, at first I was wondering if it was the outfit I picked out.” Grant had been at the bar, not his usual scene but sometimes he did like to indulge himself in just what his brother swore was the best way to spend on a night out. “This is probably one of the nicest shirts I own that isn’t my church clothes.” He continued on, taking his own sip from the drink he had in front of him. “But I guess since you’ve been gone for like the longest time possible you’ve forgotten about me and my good looks.” He was smiling now, the teasing smirk he had before had widen to a toothy grin as he looked over at his friend. It had been a pretty long time since the last two had seen each other and he wondered just for a moment what she had been doing since their last encounter. 

[grantzjames-blog]

PHOEBE FAIRMONT:

“Well, unfortunately, no one in the Fairmont family makes southern dishes homemade. In fact, we rarely have homemade meals in general, so it looks like I won’t be getting to try it anytime soon unless you sneak some over. Which will be when, huh? I need to taste this so called wonder dish so I can prove you wrong, Mr. James.” 

“Sundays are usually the big ol’ family dinner so I can have leftovers to you by Monday night. But I’m coming over to heat it up because you ain’t putting it in no microwave. An oven or even a toaster oven would work the best since it all gets mushy and disgusting in the microwave. Will Monday work for you or do I gotta wait a couple of days? Either way I’m gonna be winning this, little lady.”