AIN'T NO SUNSHINE

Matthew Kelly Senior / English Major Gorham RA

[matthew-kellys]

gcnnerpaxton​:

As soon as Matthew was approaching, Gunner was flashing him an apprehensive look. It was probably the way he always looked where Matthew was involved - momentarily, he wondered if the other ever saw Gunner with any other expression on his face. Not that it was Matthew’s fault, it just happened to be the look he gave people he was unsure of - furrowed brows and a mouth pinched at the corners, even when he attempted to give them a smile, “I’m not that little,” he huffed, finding Matthew’s comparison less than funny given the circumstances. Gunner relented somewhat when the taller boy actually managed to tug his umbrella free, even conjuring one of said pained smiles as he did so, “That was cool of you. Thanks,” Glancing between Matthew and Gorham’s entrance a few feet behind them, Gunner could think of about a hundred other unpleasant things he’d rather do than make small talk. He was drenched, though, and more than a little prone to illness when it came to any minor inconveniences that could set off his immune system, “This sounds like the start of a horror movie,” he pointed out, already heading towards Gorham without actually audibly accepting the offer, “If you’re going to sell my body parts you should know most of them are duds. My lungs are probably charred to shit. Brain’s mushy. I think my liver’s pretty intact, though, considering.”

Matt looked over, his grin staying lopsided. “Not that little,” he repeated, despite the way his neck craned, “But still pretty fuckin’ little, y’know? Pretty sure half the girls on campus are about your height, bud.” Theatrically pulling a bow at Gunner’s thanks, he brushed it off easily. “Wasn’t anything.” The rain was soaking through his hood and the shoulders of his sweater, making half of his paces towards the dorm a near jog-- in his strange, lope-y sort of pace. He’d never been able to run, but preferred riding a bike or swimming over chewing up asphalt in Nikes anyways. “Genuinely have no interest in your liver, Gunner. Shame about the brain though, read that eating blueberries helps with that kind of thing.” Matt tugged the door open, considering. “Might be a good thing though, in the long run. Harder to brainwash.” He reached for his temple with his free hand, tapping it as though this was secret insider knowledge that he was sharing with his companion.

[familyfriendlycryingpoems]

[matthew-kellys]

lanajvmeson​:

“Bedtime for bozos? That’s, like… the most evil phrase I’ve ever heard. Like, that’s something Gonzo from The Muppets would say,” Lana mused, everything tinged with laughter – like she was balancing right on the precipice, a breath from falling headfirst and indulging it. “You can’t kick me out, what the fuck? That’s literally sick. Throwing an orphan on the streets, like that? I’m just a wittle orphan. I’m helpless. You’re causing emotional distress, I might need, like… a tangerine, to feel better. Do you have tangerines here, or..?” Regardless of everything, her lips tweaked. She’d began sorting a few cards into a stack, messily shuffling – one fell on the floor, to which she simply said “ew” and moved on without fetching. “Who’s the Russian queen? Talking about some random queen while I’m sitting right here? Gross… Very hurtful. I’m sorry I can’t be her.” A rather exaggerated slap saw a card going down. She eyed him to build suspense before finally flipping it over. Lana sucked in air through her teeth, grit for theatrics. “Ooh… The fool. No-one that gets the fool can curl their tongue. That’s a fact, I’ve seen the stats.” Complete lie. All of it. “Very tragic card, especially if you’re a giver.” Lana sighed. “Think it fits? I’ll ask about the fire in a second. I’m hot on this scent, right now. Can’t question where the sight takes me. I’m just the sexy vessel.”

“My dad used to say that to me so I’d go to bed,” Matthew said, poking at her knee with his finger. His nails were bitten down, one of many bad habits that he’d acquired over the years; more harmless than the cigarettes and weed that clung to his hoodies, or the cans that were hidden away under his desk for his rounds after midnight. Leaning back on his palms, he ignored the way that the knots and pattern of the carpet dug into his hands, focusing his attention on wrinkling his nose at Lana’s dramatics instead. “Tiny leetle mouse girl, stuck in the walls looking for cheese girl,” he volleyed back, before laughing. “This isn’t Perkins we don’t have any fresh fruit but as a bonus, I don’t care if you’re here late.” Matt picked up the stray card between two fingers, turning it over to examine the front of it. Towers. Unable to decode anything beyond that, he set it to balance on his thigh. “Tsarina Alexandra? Come on, what’s your major? Everyone knows about Rasputin.” The dramatic reveal made gasp dramatically, squinting at the card. “Shit, think you might be a bit off-- the sight’s got you going cross-eyed, I need to find some tangerines, pronto.” He scrambled up, offering a hand. “I can definitely roll my tongue, but I think you’ve got a vitamin deficiency that needs to be addressed, there’s no time to show and tell.”

[killiths]

Randall “the cool RA” Carpio

[matthew-kellys]

lanajvmeson​:

Propped up by elbows as she lay on her front, red cowboy boots kicked up in the air behind her, Lana had made herself right at home on a sheepskin rug during the embers of a dying gathering – some student house, she didn’t remember the address or how she’d arrived. Her ride bounced while she was in the bathroom with a stranger. Light glinted off a butterfly clip keeping a lock of hair at bay, hair framed in rogue waves for the majority – subtly damp with rain. “Wanna have your June predicted?” She’d fanned a pack of tarot cards across the carpet, stolen, and was poking at the naked bust of lovers on one without lifting her eyes from the artwork. “Boop!” Distractedly, she’d merited the sound effect to a finger touching a nipple. Moved on without acknowledgement. “Jameson edition. Very high brow, sought after. Exclusive offer. My toes are tingling. I have the sight, I can totally feel it. Doesn’t happen often, so… Come sit, I’ll deal you in. You have to pick a new name for yourself, though. It’s a strict rule of my operation. Keeps things spicy.”

“Y’know Jameson,” Matt said, lowering himself onto the rug beside her, “It’s supposed to be bedtime for bozos. I should be kickin’ you out.” Instead, his attention cast down towards the series of cards that fanned out beside her and he resisted the urge to touch at them himself. He’d had a girlfriend once who’d been into that sort of thing, cards and horoscopes; she’d tell him not to wear blue on Tuesdays or to avoid fish when it was raining-- but the only thing he’d retained, really, was the fact that touching at these sorts of things, was very much not allowed. “Call me Rasputin for now,” he said decisively, giving Lana a sideways grin. “Y’know, lover of the Russian queen, ra, ra, ra. I want to know if I’m going to get employee of the month for this place. We only had one real fire and three false fire alarms in March, and I think that’s a new record.”

[matthew-kellys]

gcnnerpaxton​:

This was a first for Gunner, getting something stuck in a tree like something out of a cartoon. It was ironic, too, the fact that he was struggling to grab his umbrella again as rain started to come down, dampening the bark that his beaten up sneakers would’ve struggled to get a grip on even if it were dry. With a grunt, Gunner toppled to the ground once more - he’d climbed a lot of trees in his youth, but apparently it wasn’t his strong suit anymore. Frowning up at where his umbrella rested in a branch just above his reach, like it was taunting him, Gunner glanced at where someone was approaching while he was rubbing at his now bruising elbow, “I thought it’d be a good idea to bring my umbrella in case it started raining. Now I lost my umbrella and I’m soaked. I can’t help if I’m the shortest man alive, it’s - it’s genetics!” @radopens​

“Aw, bud, lemme help you out here.” Matthew had observed most of the scene from inside of Gorham, watching from his post (slumped behind the desk relistening to an Alex Jones episode) as the other male struggled under the downpour. It was when he’d fallen that he’d sighed and shoved himself up, pulling the hood of his sweater over his head as he darted into the rain to see if Gunner was okay. “This is a real sad scene, you know. Like one of those shows where the little guy keeps getting his head conked by an acorn, or something.” He was tall, enough so that he could easily amble up to curl his fingers around the handle of the umbrella, tugging it down with a few sharp jerks. With it in hand, he grinned, miming a scene from Mary Poppins before handing it back. “Don’t know what good it’ll do now that you’re all wet.” Matt let out a laugh, “There’s towels inside if you want one, I feel bad for ya.”

[phoebejays]

John Booker Routledge aka ‘John B.’

[matthew-kellys]

describe your ideal date

Couple of brewskis, maybe a box of pizza on the back of a truck with a blanket on a starry night. Keep it simple, y’know?

[matthew-kellys]

which fellow RA do u trust the most: dom or abel?

Dom probably. Abel’d help me hide a body, but Dom’s the type to make sure that a murder never happens in the first place-- y’know? He’d keep me accountable and stuff. / @domfm @abelromanov

[matthew-kellys]

lcvender‌:

          she’d been sort of ignoring the male since their ride in on the bus together. not neccessarily on purpose, as jetta was much more fond of matt than she let on, but a girl like her got distracted on a daily basis. whether it be by people  (  other guys  )  or fruity umbrella drinks on the beach. however, the minute she laid eyes on him  (  his fucking  back muscles  to be percise  )  gathered among a small crowd around the bonfire, she lit up like she was fucking on one. mostly finished drink was ditched on a fold-out table as she moved towards him, walking fast. a girl on a mission. hands were eager to touch him, both wrapping tight around his torso as her head became nustled beneath his arm.  “  hey sexy.  ”  she purred, a giggle threatening to spill over her pursed lips as she peered up at him.  @matthew-kellys​

His shirt had been abandoned on one of the lawn chairs he’d been sitting in earlier-- Matt was now stood nursing a beer near the warmth of the fire, involved in a conversation about the Mothman. His position was always that there were things that the government just didn’t want them to know; but he was feeling lazy and sunburned from a day at the beach, too content to truly fight for his position. It was a familiar voice that kept him from tensing when he was grabbed from the side-- glancing down to catch Jetta’s doe eyes. A grin tugged at his lips, yanking it sideways. “Hey, stranger. Where’ve you been?” 

[matthew-kellys]

tiagcmontes‌:

for the most part tiago tried to avoid sports, just out of habit, used to trying to skip gym class so he could go flirt with girls without being sweaty and gross, but beach volleyball was a whole other category. like with most things, he was a bit of a natural, and his team has pretty much demolished the others. by the time everyone was done cheering, he waved his hand refusing a rematch, all that exercise under the sun having exhausted him. “you got some water in that? i’m on the verge of death, but it was worth it, did you see? think we put on a nice show,” he said, sitting down next to matt. @matthew-kellys​

Having woken up too late to actually join the game of volleyball-- he’d been told that there were a few students that got out of hand and the RA’s were expected to monitor-- (this seemed like work and he was more than motivated to hit snooze) Matt had taken a leisurely approach to his morning, arriving at the beach with his swim trunks, a breakfast sandwich and a bottle of water. Tiago flopped next to him and he grinned, offering over the water. “Yeah, looked great. Did that Italian kid kill anyone this year? Last year I thought we were all gonna get sent home after he concussed that little guy.” Matt took a bite from his sandwich. His chin jerked up in the direction of a brunette who sat with her friends across the net. “She’s been watching you.”

[matthew-kellys]

monet-jones‌:

It wasn’t like she was hurrying to another class or anything, just dropping off some notes to a classmate before they had to go. Well, in a way maybe there was some form of rushing involved but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the swinging door smacking her dead in the face and causing her stumble back a few paces. “I think you’d know if you killed me but––shit, maybe in a few minutes.” She holds her head, blinking up at the other with furrowed brows.

“Are you concussed?” He assessed the spot that had been the main source of impact, before realizing that he wasn’t sure what it was that he was looking for. Instead, Matt snickered, revisiting the memory now that he was sure she was going to live and be fine. “I wish you would have seen that, you looked like a real life cartoon. You could have even had an exclamation point over your head.” He looked back at Monet, before smothering his laughter. “Maybe you should sit for a second.”

[matthew-kellys]

amethystdonahue‌:

her nude heels clanked with every step she took and her pale pink skirt flowing in the wind as she climbed the entrance stairs. amethyst’s painted fingers wrapped around the door handle just as the doors flew open. the redhead fell back, her heel catching on the top stair. she tumbled down the first two stairs, her purse and it’s contents scattered. her blue hues blinked at the other before an idea sprung into her mind. amethyst took the opportunity, her hands wrapped around her ankle as her eyes directed to it. “not dead.” she let out, her attitude apparent. “my ankle doesn’t feel that great.” her eyes directed to to him once more from under her eyelashes. “the least you could do is help me after knocking me down.” a small smile appeared as she raised one of her hands to push her hair behind her ear. 

“Fuck,” he repeated, shifting quickly to the other side of the door to make a move to grab her wrist before she tumbled down the steps to an end not dissimilar to Humpty Dumpty. The girl managed to steady herself and he let out a breath, thankful that he wasn’t about to be convicted for murder due to carelessness. When she spoke, Matt almost pouted-- he hadn’t signed up to actually help someone, either. Swooping down he swept a few of the items into his hands: a stray lipstick, a pen. “Sorry about this,” he said easily, holding them out for her to grab. “Want me to see if I can get you some ice?”

[matthew-kellys]

↳ INSTAGRAM: @MATTHEWKELLYS UPLOADED A PHOTO 2 MINUTES AGO

made a friend 🐶

❤ 643 ✐ VIEW ALL 14 COMMENTS

alexbarnhart u gonna be in provincetown next week? ↳ matthewkellys me and my new pal are gonna be there bud! domevans nice pic bro :) ↳ matthewkellys thanks man! amesrose the dog is cute. but the german  shepherd is much more cute 😘 ↳ matthewkellys hey a compliment’s a compliment i’ll take it :) acromanov you ruined the picture :/ ↳ matthewkellys i’ll tell her to take a selfie next time :(

[matthew-kellys]

Matthew had a bad habit of walking slow in the halls, despite the rush and push past him— or the fact that he was often in the way. Headphones blasted music in his ears and his idle pace was aimless. He had class that he could go to, but in ten minutes the narrow walkway would empty and filter to a slow trickle, the clocks would hit the hour and everyone would tuck away into the doors that lined the walls, eager to start learning. Instead of pursuing learning, he pushed at the door that lead outside. He did so maybe a little too hard, and it whacked against something solid. Hazel eyes widened and he yanked a headphone out, letting it dangle from the cord by his ear as he assessed the damage that he’d inflicted. “Fuck, shit. Are you okay? I didn’t kill you or anything, right?” / @radopens​

[phoebejays]

[matthew-kellys]

『 CHASE STOKES ❙ CIS MALE 』 ⟿ looks like MATTHEW KELLY is here for HIS SENIOR year as an ENGLISH student. HE is 24 years old & known to be EASY-GOING, CREATIVE, UNBOTHERED & APATHETIC. They’re living in GORHAM, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ sammie. 24. est. she/her.

looks at all of u and smiles with all my teeth

stats.

name: matthew connell kelly

nicknames: matt, matty, he doesn’t really care tbqh

age: twenty-four.

gender identity: cis-male.

pronouns: he/him

sexuality: bisexual.

birthday: january 19, 1996

star sign: capricorn, aquarius cusp

year of study: senior.

major: english.

occupation: gorham ra

place of birth: denver, colorado

height: 6′1

info.

a Colorado baby, Matt grew up partaking in a lot of sports and worked on ski hills and resorts for as long as he can remember. He’s always had a job, but his personality has never lent itself well to actually working.

His family owns a pretty successful small hotel, close enough to the city centre that they’re busy year-round, making them fairly lucky in that sense. Despite the proximity to so many things to occupy himself with, Matt was more interested in heading onto the slopes and snowboarding until there wasn’t a bit of snow left on the hills, or skateboarding until every pair of jeans he owned had holes ripped into the knees from falls over going to museums or learning anything.

Getting into Radcliffe was a struggle, he’d managed to kick up his grades by the end of his senior year of high school— through begging his friends to let him copy their homework or by asking his teachers for extra assignments that he then shirked off to someone else. He deferred his application for two years while he worked to save up for college, before entering at age twenty. It was strange, to want to attend college so far from home but he’d seen the appeal in the mysterious old campus, in the proximity to the water and just the fact that it was so different than what he was used to.

In truth, Matthew is quite lazy. He’s an English major with no interest in reading— and this is something that hasn’t improved in his senior year. He prefers to skip class in pursuit of surfing on the coast when he hears the waves are good, or to hang back and watch sports games happening in the quad or the athletics centre.

Getting the job as an RA had come to a surprise to nearly everyone, but Matt had charmed the woman in charge of dormitories with a story about how he’d taken charge at an overnight camp he’d worked at when he was sixteen (the story was a lie, he’d spent most of his counsellor days stoned and barely awake) and she’d laughed and said looking after residents was just about the same.

Gorham suits him well, the residents for the most part have a similar attitude as he does and instead of enforcing rules and becoming a villain in their eyes, he takes pleasure in teaching the younger students how to skirt the rules and avoid conviction for them. If he finds a bottle of booze during room checks, he’s more likely to show a better hiding place than to confiscate, and he’s always willing to show students the spots where the cameras won’t catch them, or where the fans in the shower room will usher away smoke and not set off the fire alarms.

On campus, he’s a nice enough addition. His personality is laid back, often he spouts nonsense that he’s learned from bullshit documentaries that he enjoys watching— did you know that the government is putting cameras in mechanical birds to watch us?—  but he’s always willing to share a story from something he’s done (or avoided doing) and a cigarette.

Matthew pencils parties into the dorm calendar and always makes sure to attend them himself, decidedly crowning himself as a king of having a good time.

Frequently he wears a lil bandana tied around his neck, his hair is always a bit too long, cozy thick knit sweaters are his thing, as are stupid hats and his sneakers are always, always dirty.