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My friend texted me: post a screenshot of your phone right now now or I’m not going to bring wine and cheese Thursday... - Alright then... #anythinggoes #gnr #trickytuesday #bringthewine #imgame (bij Amsterdam, Netherlands) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bn4Uey_iX7W/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=tomeghg3dmva
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🍷🍷 #fridayjustcalled #bringthewine (at Lewisville, Texas)
The Sunday Flow #readingismynewthing lol makes it sound like I haven't read at all thus far. Oh well that's prolly the Rose #yellowtailmakesmehappy #bringthewine #wecantbefriendsifyoudontlikewinenorreading :)
He was a punk, he did ballet... || Closed
Grantaire usually spent his time on the streets. It’s what he was used to. Not because he didn’t have any parents, he did, but they weren’t exactly the best. He never found himself complaining about it, because what was the point? There were people out there who had it far worse than he, and he didn’t want to hear them try and top his struggles. It would have just frustrated him and put him on edge, and thought he could fight, Grantaire never particularly wanted to. It was best to just keep is obscene and rude comments to himself when people tried to one up him in regards to how shitty their life was.
His family didn’t care about what he did. They never really did, but as he got older, they showed less and less interest in his life. That made him want their attention, so he started doing things. Vandalism, fighting, drinking, landing himself in the local jail over-night. His parents weren’t the ones that bailed him out, it was always his friends. He eventually gave up on trying t get their attention, because they obviously no longer cared. They had that in common; Grantaire didn’t care either.
The can of spray paint was almost empty, and he shook it a little more. He swore under his breath, wishing he’d brought more than two cans. He didn’t know that it would be such a large job, he hadn’t planned on making such a big piece. He threw the can in his bag again and ran a hand through his dark hair and turned around. His eye caught that of another man, who was quite frankly, rather attractive. Grantaire looked him over as he approached, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. “Hey. And uh, it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”
At first glance Feuilly hadn't noticed the spray paint, but once he had, his eyebrows raised. So this guy liked to cause trouble. Really in this neighborhood, Feuilly shouldn't be surprised. He lived here because the rent was cheapest, which also meant that it was a rather shitty neighborhood. Hell, if this guy were to spray paint the place it might actually look slightly better than before. Bleak was it's general appearance, so any change really couldn't make it that much worse. Unless this stranger was the kind of person who found it amusing to spray paint a penis on there. People were frequently immature enough to do something like that.
As he looked at what Grantaire was working on, he couldn't help but be surprised. What was there so far was actually more than he expected to see. He took a step closer to examine it further. "Wow this is pretty cool. You know you're breaking the law right?" Feuilly rolled his eyes at his own words. Of course he knew that. He was stating the obvious. "I know, that's obvious. But really...I suppose you're making this place look a little bit better rather than really graffiti." He glanced over at the well...artist really. That was definitely art. "What is it going to be when it's finished?"
~27~
He was a punk, he took ballet, what more can I say?
Feuilly had wanted to be a part of a ballet company since he was very young and his parents were still alive. It had started when his mother showed videos when she had been a dancer herself, and it was beautiful and enchanting. He had always wanted to follow in her footsteps. When his mother and father had passed away in a car accident, that resolve only strengthened, and when he was shuffled off to foster parents, he still made it his dream. Except of course, it was a little harder to follow it.
His foster parents were indifferent, and he actually went through several foster parents until he reached the age of eighteen, where he could finally just take care of himself. Feuilly got the cheapest apartment he could possibly get, got a job as soon as he could, and then worked to balance his time with ballet lessons and another job which he had to add to be able to pay for all the extra things he needed to be able to continue ballet. This particular day had been a long one, and he had simply chosen to remain in his ballet clothes on his way back home.
As he walked towards his neighborhood, he noticed a man, that by all accounts should have made him more cautious and suspicious, and maybe grab onto his bag a little tighter. Instead he found himself curious. He hadn’t had much time to talk to anyone lately, and the man he had noticed…well he was fairly good looking for this neighborhood. Feuilly found himself rather intrigued, and approached him without thinking. “Hello. What’re you doing out here?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I just want to say those who sent me asks, I saw them, unfortunately as I tried to work on them my laptop crashed so there will be a bit of a delay, I'm sorry :/ I'll try to get something done once it's cooled down.
bringthewine started following you
"Bonjour," the petite man crooned lightly, spinning around in his chair to face the man who had approached him. He reached down to pet the collie's dog lightly, meeting the man's eye. "What can I do for you, mon ami?"
