fantastic mr. fox @greysonfoxx-blog - Tumblr Blog

june ≠ grey.

heels tapped impatiently as she waited up at the restaurant’s bar, going on her fourth minute without service (june was never a patient girl). to ‘celebrate’ the fact that she had gotten her car stolen, and now no longer had to worry about day drinking and driving, the blonde was desperate to throw back a few cocktails before she headed to work. caught up in admiring her own nails, june almost didn’t notice the stranger swoop up beside her. jumping, she didn’t have a chance to curse him out for ‘scaring the shit outta me!’, instead quickly swept up in the rush he seemed to be in. a wicked grin curled her lips, as she watched him slip the wine bottle under his arm. chaos —— oh good. her favourite. “hey! wait up, asshole!” june complained in a hushed tone, a velvety kind of laugh on her lips as she snatched a bottle of liquor for herself; following him in a dash out the back door.

Bursting out into the alleyway behind the restaurant, Grey wasted no time pulling the cork from the bottle. Golden liquid overflowed onto his fingers and a desperate Grey had no intention of wasting a drop. Another minute alone with his new “dad” and he probably would’ve poured straight vodka into his eyes. Guzzling down the sour beverage, Grey’s nose began to tingle as the bubbles burst in his throat. “Fuck,” he sighed, smacking his lips together. “Fuck me,” it’d been longer than he cared to admit since Grey had his greedy fingers around the neck of something over 2% in alcohol. It’d been part of his mums deal — no rehab, but no getting wasted — a month in and he’d cracked. The restaurant door banged shut, drawing Grey’s eyes to the blonde that had joined him. 10/10 and holding a bottle of liquor, Grey threw all his promises to the wind. “Come on,” he instigated. “There has to be somewhere in this shit hole better than the back of a restaurant,” taking another swig from the bottle, Grey then gestured for the girl to follow suit. “Suggestions are encouraged.”

#june nixon ≠ interactions.#june nixon ≠ all.

@nancylewiis ≠ grey.

"You really don’t have to go to such extremities to get my attention,” Grey sighed, resting his forearm against the top of her car. “A simple wave hello is better than these flirtatious glances you keep throwing me from across the road,” specks of sawdust blew from Greyson's shirt as a light breeze washed over them. He knew she probably hadn’t been watching him, but Grey took a sick enjoyment in rubbing his neighbour the wrong way. “What was the plan?” he asked. “Fumble? Spill your groceries?” he raised a brow, glancing into the back seat of her car at the brown paper bags. “A little cliche, but I would’ve rushed to your aid regardless,” he taunted. Pushing himself away from her car, Greyson picked up one of the bags and tucked it under his arm. “I mean,” he shrugged, “I don’t want to fuel your obsession, but I can’t let you carry all these inside on your own, now can I?”

#nancy lewis ≠ interactions.#nancy lewis ≠ all.#i hate him #what a smug bastard #someone knock him down a peg

taliya ≠ grey.

she couldn’t help but welcome the slight roll of her eyes as he popped off the cork before taking a rather large swig from it. i know you… right ? an eyebrow arched. clearly she was right - he hadn’t remembered her, at least not right away. perhaps she wasn’t as memorable as she assumed she was back then. “ mhm. good memory - i mean, not as good as mine, but adequate, ” she nods her head slowly, letting out a rather breathless chuckle - amused. “ taliya. ”

“Hey, not my fault you had a boyfriend majority of high school,” he shrugged, holding the neck of the bottle in a firm grasp. “Girls like you tended to slip under my radar,” Grey added. “Besides, your brothers would’ve pounded me,” taking a step back, Grey had no intention of loitering around the back entrance to the restaurant. “But nevertheless, look at you now, all long-legged and beautiful,” Grey began, taking another swig from the champagne. “If we weren’t standing amongst a bunch of trash bags, this moment would be truly picture perfect,” he taunted, before turning on his heels. “Come on, lets get the fuck away from this pile of garbage,” he’d meant to restaurant, but he didn’t clarify. “Might even give you a swig if you’re lucky.”

#taliya castillo ≠ interactions.#taliya castillo ≠ all.

taliya & grey.

“ oh do they now ? well, i’ll have to take your word for it seeing as i’ve never been to greece, ” she explains. she didn’t even know greyson was back in town, let alone still wreaking havoc. talk about a blast from the past. though truthfully it didn’t seem like he recognized her, perhaps he was already a bottle or two deep. “ i would have never pegged you for a wine snob, ” she tells him with a slight shrug, running her fingers through blonde locks as they stepped outside. “ you don’t really give off the wine snob vibe. ”

“Neither have I,” he smirked. Ripping the wrapper off the top of the bottle, Grey discarded it quickly. The cork popped with ease and within moments the cool bubbly cascaded down his throat. It was a welcome change to the children's beverages he’d been forced to nurse the past few weeks. Grey didn’t identify as an alcoholic, not in the slightest, but it was worrisome how quickly he calmed the more he drank. Finally content, Grey let his eyes linger to the girl who’d accompanied him outside. Blue hues took her in, studying every feature until it hit him like a tonne of bricks. “I know you... right?” he stated. “Uh... knew, I guess,” Grey paused, clicking his fingers together as he wracked his brain. “Castle... Castell... Cas... Castillo?”

#taliya castillo ≠ interactions.#taliya castillo ≠ all.

taliya & grey.

fingers tapped idly on the bar as she contemplated another drink. the last time she got drunk it didn’t take more than a few drinks and didn’t end very well. she didn’t plan on recreating those nights events. so as she glanced over her bill, shoving some cash under the check and reaching for her bag, she spotted someone reaching over the counter, grabbing a bottle and heading for the exit. she arched an eyebrow in his direction, realizing exactly who it was - figured. following his movements as he spoke - she couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief. “ you know they normally charge for those things, ” she says, glancing around the bar before following in his general direction. “ or at least they do in a civilized society. ”

“They normally dance on the tables in Greece,” Grey quickly retorted. “Different practices in different places,” he shrugged, eyes glued to the exit. “Sterling’s embracing the new five finger discount,” wiggling his free hand in her direction, Grey then used it to push open the swinging door. Women were a very important and highly regarded part of Greyson’s life. But with the bottles cool condensation grazing over his agitated fingertips, he could only focus on popping the cork and getting it into his system. “If I was uncivilised I would’ve grabbed that watered down grape juice you folks like to call sauvignon blanc,” Grey stated. “Now look what you’ve gone and done,” he shook his head, “made me sound like a wine snob.” The cool evening air brushed over him as he stepped outside, it was quickly followed by the smell of trash. But Grey didn’t care, he just wanted his drink despite the dumpsters.

#taliya castillo ≠ interactions.#taliya castillo ≠ all.

catpacks-deactivated20240223

Visit Original Link

#greyson fox ≠ playlist.

Watching paint dry would've had more appeal than this dinner. Hank — or d a d as he insisted on being called — prattled on without so much as taking a moment for air. Grey hated family time; it’d always been forced upon him, even as a kid. But Hank wasn’t really family, he was someone his mum shacked up with to keep her company. Why Grey had to build any sort of relationship with the practical stranger was a mystery to him. “Fascinating,” he murmured, taking a sip from his water that he wished deeply was something stronger. “Excuse me,” he didn’t wait for a response, talk of money and success had turned his appetite sour. All Grey wanted was to get out. Navigating between tables, Grey winded his way through the establishment until he found the familiar comfort of the bar. In a fowl swoop he nabbed a bottle of champagne resting in an ice bucket just over the counter. A lingering presence to his side informed Greyson that’d he’d been caught in action, but he didn’t care. “You can either rat me out, or join me,” he shrugged, tucking the bottle of wine under his arm and bee-lining for the restaurants back exit. “If it’s the latter, I’d pick your own poison — I’m not in the mood to share.”

#sterling.starter #probably at a restaurant or something in brighton #tw: drug mention/use #<< potentially depending how the thread goes #as he's not meant to be drinking #he grew up in sterling but left and has only recently returned #if you wanna do previous connections dm meee :)#this probs won't show up in the tags but pfffft

henrycavilledits

#greyson fox ≠ visuals.#he's such a cutie pie #i want to cry

delilah ≠ grey.

Oh, crap. There he was again, frustratingly begging for her attention once more. A regular Valentine’s customer that lived for sending her insane with a thousand and one requests and comments. Not to mention, the burly man consistently asked her most visits, to which she’d politely decline every time. The girl had had enough, igniting utter discomfort from her core which sent her hoping for someone else to take care of his order. “Hey—what do you say to a free meal on the house?” She’d jumped to the side of the first person she saw, sitting by the bar, her elbow resting on the countertop. Despite her better judgments, she found herself practically begging for help. “All you have to do is pretend to be my partner for, like, ten minutes. Please?” Her eyes dart over to the guy in question, offering her an uncomfortably creepy smile, to which she rolled her eyes.

Grey had been nursing a ginger beer for what felt like the better half of an hour. He’d forgotten how tiresome small towns could be — at least in comparison to the bustling nature of a city. All the old faces of Sterling he’d once been familiar with were now unfamiliar and shaped differently. Not that he particularly cared to re-associate himself with people who knew exactly why he’d come back. Finger mindlessly tapping against his glass, Grey almost didn’t hear the request of the woman before him. Tired eyes glanced up toward her, before he unapologetically turned to eye the problem she seemed to be having. A burly man, with a menacing face, did his best to flirt with the poor waitress from across the dining facility. A small smirk poured onto Greyson’s lips as the pieces of her predicament fell into place. “Aw, come now — he looks like a well-build, pleasant mass of a man, ever thought of giving him a chance?” Grey asked, stifling a small chuckle. Taking another sip of his depressingly-non-alcoholic beverage, Grey pushed the half empty glass to the side. “If he’s a repeat offender, he isn’t going to be put off by you giving me a free meal,” Grey shrugged. “Gotta think bigger... baby.”

#delilah blackwood ≠ interactions.#delilah blackwood ≠ all.

zahra ≠ grey.

it’s been a little over a week since she arrived to sterling. the original plan was to stay a couple of days, meet her father and brother and then go back to her life in new york city. zahra was sitting at the edge of the pool of the hotel she was staying in with a piece of papaer that looked like a plane ticket back home. her mind was filled with questions about staying or leaving when she heard footsteps getting closer.

Greyson had seen better days. Donning a large oversized jacket and an unflattering dark blue tracksuit, Grey was pretty much over the confines of his hotel room. A temporary pit stop before the cheque for his new Brighton home went through. Embarrassingly, his mother had made sure to confiscate the expensive mini-bar booze before leaving him to his own devices. After years of independence, it was strange coming back to Sterling and behaving like a child again. Desperate for a sight that wasn’t the peeling yellow wallpaper, Grey strolled around the facilities — until he found the pool. “Hate to break it to you, but bikini’s are actually mandatory inside the pool gate,” he stated a moment after spotting the figure. “I’m wearing one right now,” Grey teased, resting his arms along the fencing.

#zahra ramsay ≠ interactions.#zahra ramsay ≠ all.

hello darkness my old friend. it’s been a long time since i’ve been in a role-play group, so forgive these rusty fingers. my name is natalie and i’m from australia, so some unexplained ‘u’s and lingo that not even i understand may pop up every now and then. this LITERAL stud-cake is greyson. a problematic fave, if you will. trigger warnings: drugs, alcohol, henry cavills muscles, death.

#sterling.intro #its 2am #help

henricavyll

#greyson fox ≠ visuals.

wesleygasm

#greyson fox ≠ visuals.

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

fantastic mr. fox