let the rain come

There's only two types of people in the world. The ones that entertain, and the ones that observe.

[jamesplatt-blog]

art house || james & rhys

[rhysrainer-blog]

jamesplatt:

     “Well, their loss. Planning any kind’ve anything with a group is difficult,” James said. “So what we do is pick a date and time and tell everyone. If they miss it, their fault. We can still have fun.” He wondered what their housemates would be like. It would undoubtedly be interesting to throw a bunch of artsy college kids together in one house. Hopefully they all got along and became decent friends. James got along with all types, but there were some people whose company he preferred. 

     “Ha. I mean– we get along! I just like to bug her. Give her hell over everything. As big brother’s should. So I guess your twin has the right idea. Though, I don’t know how much a few minutes is worth in bragging rights,” James laughed. “’Least I got a few years on Eleanor. But hey. I am all for teaming up with him.” 

      James’s brows furrowed, his head tilting as he studied the way Rhys moved. He was an interesting person. Fluid and sure of himself, his style distinct, he was confident in many ways. They were already getting on quite well, James noted. He was easy to talk to. There were no lags in the conversation and he wasn’t left feeling like he had to keep it up while the other didn’t hold up his own side of the conversation. 

     “Are you?” James asked. “So you gonna need me to kick your ass to clean your room is what you’re saying?” He gave the other a teasing smirk. 

      “Do you?” James asked, calling out to the other from his bedroom as he decided how to organize his books. He never knew whether to do them alphabetically or by size or color or genre. “Great. That’s awesome. We’ll have to do some music together. I sing, too. Piano, guitar, drums, bass. I can help you with guitar. It’s not bad once you get the hang’ve it. It’s all about finding a comfortable position for your fingers ‘cause some of those stretches are rough.”

      James moved fluidly to the music as he knelt in front of the shelves, enjoying the rhythm, his head bobbing while he sang along softly and put his textbooks on the bottom shelf since it was the widest, lining them up. “You dying your hair all the time?” he asked. “That explains it. I think we had some class together sophomore year. Maybe two classes. Did you take Social Psych or Abnormal?” 

       He glanced up as the other moved by, their eyes meeting for a moment before he ducked into his own room, continuing their conversation. “That’s awesome,” he commented. “I love tattoos. If I knew what my career was going to be for sure, I’d be a bit more covered, too. But psych– I don’t know. Sometimes they can be strict with that shit. Real dumb, in my opinion. But maybe you can help me design another. I’m thinking of getting a back piece.”

     “I’m down for that, I don’t really give a shit if the others come or not. I’m fine with it if we’re the only ones that end up going, I just want to lay out under the sun and get a tan before the fall sets in,” Rhys stated simply, scratching at the back of his neck, his shoulder lifting languidly. As much of a people person as he was sometimes, he also didn’t care for them sometimes. He wondered if that was the creative side of him, or the part of him that had experienced so much hatred from other individuals throughout his life. He supposed it was probably a mix of both, yet he couldn’t live without others in his life. 

     “Hey, according to him, it means he gets all the bragging rights and that he is better in every single way,” he said with a laugh, rolling his eyes at the memory of his brother’s antics. He couldn’t really complain much though, he found them amusing, even when they were directed at him. Tristan would always be there for him when it counted, and that was ultimately what mattered most. “I’m sure it would be a nightmare for both your sister and I should that actually happen.”

     Snapping his gum, Rhys shook his head, furrowing his brows at James’ question, as he pulled out a few of his leather jackets from the pile on his bed to hang up. “No, shit, I’m not a slob,” he said with a laugh, putting a hanger in one of the coats and placing it in the closet. “What I mean is, I tend to forget to fucking eat or drink constantly, smoke a lot, forget where I put shit, that kind of thing. Tristan’s always really on top of that. He’s always been good about making sure I have coffee or tea first thing, I remember my keys and my phone, and then that I’m taken care of. Suppose I’m lucky to have him in that way. I’m just shit at self care, but I’ve been trying.” He had no problem admitting his downfalls, he knew where he lacked and where he needed to be better, but it was always a struggle for him to improve when on some level he just didn’t care. 

     “Ja, tell me about it. I try and play and I get frustrated so fast when it comes to the guitar. Drives me batty. Course, I’m kind of a giver upper,” Rhys muttered, snickering a little at himself. “If it doesn’t go right the first few times, I want nothing to do with it, which is shit when it comes to learning new things. But we’ll definitely have to play together sometime. I’d like to see what you can do.” 

     It felt good to talk to someone who had so much in common with him, someone that he didn’t have to feel like he was trying too hard. There was an easy cadence in their conversation that made him feel comfortable with the other. As rare as it was for him to make good friends, he saw potential in James, and in some ways that worried him.

     “I can’t sit still when it comes to my hair,” Rhys commented, beginning to line up his shoes in the bottom of the closet. “I just can’t stand looking the same all the time. I don’t know why, I crave the change... but yeah, I took both actually. Surprise, surprise, I hate school but I love to learn about this shit.” Moving to grab another one of his suitcases from the hall, he dragged it into his room, considering James’ dilemma. “I don’t know what I want to do either, actually, I guess I just don’t care. I don’t give a shit what people think of me. Hell, half the people I met when I was in my teens thought I was a girl,” he said with a shrug, opening his suitcase. “Sometimes shit isn’t worth selling your own soul for. You just have to be you. Anyway, I’d be game for designing something for you. What were you thinking?”

[rhysrainer-blog]

melodybaxter:

She loved that she seemed to have found a like minded individual who wouldn’t raise his eyebrows at her and think she was overthinking the game or taking it too seriously. Most of the time she needed to tone it down, just in case the people she was with started to think she was a little violent, overly-enthusiastic or crazy. She had once decided to roll across the floor, Lara Croft style and had received some rather judgemental looks for it. “Ruthless as it may sound, the newer members of our team could provide enough distraction for us to keep home base safe and take out the other team. It’s a sacrifice, but a necessary one if they’re not going to work to a strategy - we might as well use it to our advantage, right?” she offered, a little hesitantly, in case he too started to question her sanity.

She grinned when he put the beanie over his hair. “Good thinking” she smiled, “although it is quite distracting, so strength and weakness, but as we are going for stealth..” she rambled off, turning to the door as it opened. “I’m good with that, definitely better to have someone watching your back. Can’t face all ways at once and the arena is designed so that your back in never safe. Clever architects” she murmured, as students surged forward. She went with the crowd but stayed by his side, even though his height made him stand out, the fact that he had covered his hair would make it harder to tell who he was should she lose him. “I’m game, lead the way and quickly, in case someone else nabs it”.

     Smiling over his shoulder at Melody, he released a laugh as she suggested using the newer students as fodder. He had to admit, he liked her style. When it came to games, he usually enjoyed the ride, but he’d be lying if he was to say that he wasn’t competitive. He loved winning, loved that feeling of coming in first above all the others, and he didn’t particularly mind how he got there. “I don’t think that’s ruthless, I think that’s smart,” Rhys commented, giving her a grin. “Anything we can use to our advantage is the best way to go. As long as the team wins, even if they get pulled out of the game, they technically win too, right?” He knew it was a stretch, but he didn’t really care, as he made his way over to the far corner where he could find cover.

     Settling into the spot, he waited for the game to set off, glancing down at Melody. “Cover the left and I’ll get the right? If we go out into the open at any time, we sound stick back to back,” he offered, grateful to have someone that was on the same page as him for once. The only time that ever seemed to happen was when he came along with his twin. All at once, the game seemed to start, people shouting and shooting in different directions. A girl hopped over one of the obstacles in the room, clearly looking to surprise anyone who was on the other side, only to be shot only a few feet away from where they stood. “Here they come!” He called out to Melody, crouching down beside her as he took aim with his gun, targeting a boy that ran towards them, shooting wildly as though hoping to get a lucky shot on one of them. 

[stellaemerson-blog]

Limelight Shenanigans

[rhysrainer-blog]

stellaemerson:

“Fucking tell me about it. Luckily I’ve found I express myself best through my make up, especially now since I know how to use it,” she laughed. “But you’re right. Nobody should tell anyone how to talk or dress or act. If they don’t like it they can shut their damn mouth. That’s the problem with most people now a days,” Stella shrugged. “And now I’m starting to sound like someone’s vulgar grandma and I’m gonna stop,” she joked.

“Fine arts is pretty cool, wish I was that talented artistically, but a stick figure is hard enough for me to draw,” Stella’s eyes rolled sarcastically. If she could change one thing about herself it would be for her to be gifted in some sort of music or arts. She always admired people with those skills, she had tried when she was younger, but it was never easy for her to pick up. “I’m a junior here, so still got some time to fuck around. I’m a marketing major. Nothing too exciting. You can sell anything as long as you know who you’re selling too and can sell yourself. Marketing seemed like the logical step. If I can market myself to anyone, I’mm in business. Especially in the fashion world.”

Stella walked behind the bar and over to some of the liquor she had set out. “Good to note. Free vodka soda for any whiny ass sorority girl that threatens to get daddy to sue me if I fuck up her drink,” she sarcastically spat out. She took out an empty glass, “now as for these special house drinks on the menu, anything fancy? Or do they just slap some funky names on a typical bar drink? Like what the hell drink is The Limelight ”

     Laughing, Rhys raised a brow, shaking his head at her words. “Ah, don’t worry about it, you’re far too good looking to be considered a grandma,” he teased, pushing himself up to sit on the bar. “But it’s true, why else do we have so many problems in the world? It’s all because other people think they can tell people what to do with themselves. As if trying to figure out your own shit isn’t enough, you have to insert yourself into someone else’s life.” He rolled his eyes, letting out a breath, attempting to release the irritation that was building in his chest. It was one of his pet peeves, having been targeted too many times for his appearance in his life. 

      “Oh, thanks, yeah, I like tattoos and shit obviously. I have a thing for it. I like to design all kinds of crap. Guess it’s just part of me. I have this need to get all this stuff out of my head and into the universe somehow,” Rhys said, gesturing in front of himself with his hands as he spoke, trying to find the right words to express himself. “Marketing if fucking good. That’s some smart decision making right there. Maybe you’ll have to help me sell myself one day, and I don’t mean that in the prostitution way. Really should watch how I form my sentences,” he laughed, sliding his fingers through his hair. “Do you want to go into fashion?”

     Smirking, Rhys reached over, shifting the alcohol bottles slightly so that he wouldn’t knock them over with his elbow. The last thing they needed was another mess. “Pretty much. Seems you have the hang of it already,” he quipped, watching as she moved to prepare a drink. “They’re nothing amazing, no. They just want to make it sound like they are unique. The Limelight is essentially just a Moscow Mule with extra lime. So creative,” he muttered sarcastically, gesturing towards the glass in her hand. “Vodka, ginger beer, lime juice, then put some lime slices in it.”

[rhysrainer-blog]

drown it out || lena & rhys

[rhysrainer-blog]

eliasgoeseast:

The first week back had been an experience for Lena. Not only had classes begun and parties been held, but she and many others had been questioned by police in connection to the professors disappearance, and Hector had been arrested. It was ridiculous to assume Hector actually had anything to do with the disappearance, but still she hoped that him getting off had more to do than just his fathers money. 

She had decided on The Electric Martini as a way to blow off steam, though she had no intention of doing anything but hanging out. Drinking too much this early in the semester was bound to set her on a path of some kind of self-destruction, which she just couldn’t afford this close to med-school applications. 

Rhys was standing at the bar, looking down on Lena expectantly. It was nearly impossible to ignore that blond mop. She laughed along with him, allowing herself to be pulled in the direction of alcohol. “Three martinis is excessive, although if you’re paying, I can’t resist.” 

The pair settled with their first of probably many drinks. “Can you believe they actually arrested someone for that too?” 

     Grinning across at Lena, Rhys shrugged a shoulder, leaning against the bar. “Well, I’ve yet to have to pay for a single drink, so I don’t mind blowing some money now, if it means I’ll have a companion,” he commented, letting out a laugh. He hated drinking alone, but he knew if someone else was getting drunk with him it would certainly up the entertainment value. The Electric Martini wasn’t exactly the place to get smashed, but he didn’t particularly care. All he wanted was to relax, to take his mind off of everything.

     “Three is just the tip of the iceberg, Lena. Have I taught you nothing when it comes to drinking in excess?” He joked, giving her a wink, ordering their first round from the bartender. “Besides, I think it’s wiser to slowly come off of getting drunk every night. A little bit less each night until you’re at one drink every evening.” Smirking, he turned his body for face her completely, his gaze scanning her features.

     Fiddling with his earrings, he rolled his eyes, releasing a sigh, his chained boots clanking against the metal of the stool’s base. “Fear makes you do stupid things,” Rhys responded, pursing his lips momentarily. “It’s clear they are just looking for someone to pin it on so that people don’t panic there is a killer on the loose. I think they just want someone to blame so they can say they did their jobs when they are failing at it miserably.”

[jamesplatt-blog]

art house || james & rhys

[rhysrainer-blog]

jamesplatt:

     “YEAH WE JUST have to be hasty,” James replied. “Like– absolutely no dicking around. We want to go to the beach, we go like… this week. Otherwise we risk a cold front fucking our chances until May.” What he would do for one last trip to the beach before summer faded to fall and then a brutal winter. The winters in Northern New England were quite different than on the Cape; but he enjoyed the change of the seasons, even the massive snowfall and frigid cold. There was something oddly cozy and inspiring about the weather. “Honestly, if you didn’t pack a bathing suit among all that—” he nodded towards the massive stack of suitcases “–I’d probably make fun of you until next year. But I have an extra you can borrow. I swim a lot.”

      There was the air conditioner. It kicked on with a soft hum from months of not being used and omitted a strange, musty scent. He shrugged as his head turned to meet Rhys’s gaze once more. “Oh– I mean, quite a bit. We live at home over the summer and she’s a sophomore here, so we hang whenever our schedules allow. I kinda harass her a lot, though, y’know. Big brother duties and all,” James explained with a smirk. He and Eleanor had their own, unique relationship, and he was so happy she had chosen to go to school here. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he would have been a lot lonelier without her the previous year. He nodded, his brows knit as Rhys explained himself. He could understand, in a way. As much as he loved Eleanor, he knew they’d just step on one another’s toes if they tried living together at school, where they were encouraged to pursue their own interests and make friends. Their passions differed and she would do better in the company of people who shared her similarities and he the same; but it didn’t mean they couldn’t get together frequently and be there for one another. “I get that, yeah. Well, it’s good he’s close enough but not too close,” James stated with a soft laugh. “In proximity, I mean. I love my sister, but I think I’d probably go crazy living with her. It’s one thing to live with her back home, but here. It’s just different, y’know?”

      It excited him that the first housemate to arrive was also a musician. He’d been expecting painters and sculptors and designers; but it made sense the Art House would be a welcome home to musicians as well. “I am. Do you play anything? Sing?” James asked curiously, desperate to know more. All he wanted was to pick apart Rhys’s brain, to learn about his talents, to relate on what type of music they played and enjoyed, to have discussions on the topic he was most passionate about. “Oh yeah, ‘course. Wouldn’t want to accidentally wear the strappy boots on an occasion that’d require chained ones. Silly me. Though, my one pair seems to do the job no matter where I go. ‘Course, those are packed away still. Too hot for that shit. Speaking of- why aren’t you drenched in sweat? I mean you’re not exactly in the most– heat forgiving outfit. This humidity’s going to kill me.”

       James sniggered, rolling his eyes as he turned his back, grabbing another one of his bags to move to his new bedroom. A psych minor. Rhys did look vaguely familiar and given that they were apparently in the same year, he wondered if they hadn’t had a couple classes together. “Oh yeah? I’m a senior, too. Psych major, chem minor. We ever take any classes together? You look a bit familiar. Or maybe I’m thinking of your twin,” James called from his bedroom as he set the bag on his naked bed and propped his guitar up against a neighboring wall. “What kind’ve art do you do? Besides music.” He returned to the living space for his last box and set this one on his desk. He popped it open, peering inside at his speaker and a stack of books carefully jammed in together. He pulled out the speaker first and plugged it in. Several moments later, after a brief struggle to get his phone hooked up with the school’s wifi, he connected to bluetooth and opened Spotify to play his favorite playlist. The first song that came on was a summer hit and it blasted through the stereo. 

       It was impossible not to get into the music as he unpacked his books, moving to the beat and singing along lowly. It wasn’t long before he was dancing- pivoting and spinning, his steps in time with the beat as he shoved books on the provided shelves.

     “That’ll be fun to organize, considering how not a single soul made it here on time,” Rhys said with a laugh, arching a brow at James, knowing that they could manage it if they tried but deciding to give him a hard time for the hell of it. He loved the beach, if he was honest. It was the one place he actually enjoyed going during the summer with his brother, if he had the funds for the trip. There were always positive memories any time he thought of it, the hot summer sun beating down, his brother bringing him drinks, the two of them having water fights in the ocean. Admittedly, he was already starting to plan the trip in his mind. “Well, I don’t usually associate school with the beach or swimming, so who knows. But thanks, I appreciate that.”

     Grinning, he rolled his eyes as James talked about his sister and the way that he harassed her, knowing all too well what it was like to have a big brother. “Ohhhh, so you’re that type,” he joked, letting out a laugh as he scratched at the back of his ear. “I’m the younger twin. My brother reminds me of that... oh, ever three minutes, approximately. You know, it would be a travesty if I forgot,” he said, snickering to himself as he remembered just how many times his brother brought up that fact. “You’d probably get on with him well. You can trade secrets on how to make your younger siblings’ lives torture.” 

     Nodding his head, he understood the point that James was making, even though he didn’t entirely feel the same about his sibling. He could see why it would be better to have distance and to allow one another space to breathe, but sometimes he felt strange when he didn’t have his twin around, as though he was always looking for him, even when he knew he wasn’t there. “I get that, but I think I’m more likely to go insane without Tristan, as mad as that sounds. I’m really shit at taking care of myself and he’s really good at making sure I do.”

     Moving over towards his suitcases, he picked up the first two bags that sat sagging on top of his luggage. “I sing, mostly. I’m not fantastic with instruments, but I can do some piano and a little guitar. Though less guitar than I would like. It confuses the shit out of me,” Rhys said with a laugh, shrugging his shoulder to write it off. “What about you?” He asked, as he made his way towards the room adjacent to the one James’ had picked. “I’m used to being hot,” Rhys commented, shooting a wink over his shoulder as he smirked. “And you would be surprised just how much of a difference those chain boots make over the strappy ones. Completely different outfit.” Tossing down his bags, he made his way back out, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

     Narrowing his eyes, he stood there, his hands on his hips as he studied the other for a moment. A trickle of familiarity wormed it’s way into his brain, making itself at home as he took in a long breath, trying to throw his memory back to old classes. “We might have, you look a little familiar too,” Rhys commented, pursing his lips before waving his hand in front of him, shifting to pick up another bag. “I had black hair that was longer my first couple of years. Less piercings. Most people don’t even recognize me half the time, so I wouldn’t be surprised.”

     Rolling a few more of his suitcases into the room he chose, he snapped the gum between his teeth, turning towards James’ room, looking at him framed by both their doorways. “You know, a little of this, a little of that. Basically what they assign so I can get through the program. My own art is kind of like graphic art. I like doing things digitally, though I’m super into tattoo designs. As if that weren’t somewhat obviously,” he replied with a snicker, gesturing to his arm with the most ink. 

     Listening to the music, he smiled to himself, shrugging his shoulder as he began to move to the beat as well. Opening one of his suitcases, the dumped his clothes on the bed, looking amused as it tumbled halfheartedly off the bed. 

[peterhannington-blog]

Fine Cuisine // Peter && Rhys

[rhysrainer-blog]

peterhannington:

Peter looked at Rhys with disdain, his face remaining blank while his mid reeled in disgust.  How full of yourself would you have to be to be so disinterested and rude?  The charming quip about edible canvases was cut off quickly by the boy finding his phone and immediately turning to it.  Apparently his texts were incredibly urgent, since he had become dead to the world around him.  

Peter acknowledged he was self-centered; he clearly operated for his own self-interest.  However when someone needed help, it was the decent human thing to do to at least give verbal assistance.  Any half-assed directions were better than nothing.  Apparently the guy’s sense of decorum is just as sophisticated as his taste in clothing.  Taking a deep breath, he forced a polite smile on his face, about to turn and leave when the neon monstrosity in front of him finally managed to mumble out some reply.  

Perfect.  Not only was he rude he was foreign, a thick European accent choking out of the boy’s mouth.  What was that, Norwegian?  Dutch?  Whatever it was, Peter hated it immediately, the sound akin to nails on a chalkboard and a cat coughing up a hairball.  Gritting his teeth, he looked towards the business school.  

“I happen to know where that is, actually.  Business major and all.”  He gave him a forced smile, eyes flicking between his face and his phone.  “I wouldn’t want to impose.  You seem a bit preoccupied, and I’d hate to be the reason you missed something important.”  Thankfully the words slipped out of his mouth sounding more genuine than they felt, Peter squinted against the rays of the setting sun as they streamed through the stone buildings.  

“Left then right then food.  I’m sure I can figure that much out.  Thanks.”  The last word came out a bitter habit, a begrudging necessity that sounded a bit more like the biting sarcasm Peter felt like heaping upon the self-absorbed unidentified-European.  The freshman eyed him once more, curiosity turning to interest at how he might react.  If he truly was stuck with his head in the clouds and his face in his phone, Peter doubted he would even pick up on the subtle annoyance.  

     Shifting, Rhys tucked the phone in his hand into his pocket, glancing across at Peter curiously. Lifting his shoulder, he allowed it to fall in an easy shrug, tucking his phone back in the pocket where he’d managed to find it. He knew it probably seemed as though he was intent on the device, but it was mainly the relief, and his desire to meet back up with his brother that drove him to clutch onto it so desperately. 

     “Ah, nah, don’t worry about it. You’re not imposing in the least. I just thought I lost it and that would have been a nightmare. My brother is on campus, so he would have started freaking out if I went a whole day without messaging,” Rhys commented with a laugh, shaking his head as he tried to imagine his brother barging into the Art House searching for him and bothering all of his roommates. Not exactly the impression he wanted his sibling to be giving them on his first week back. “Anyway, all’s well that ends well.”

     Looking across at the boy curiously, he arched a brow, hooking his thumb in the belt loop of his pants. “Sorry, didn’t know you were a business major. Seeing as I just met you this second and all,” he retorted swiftly, licking his lips to wet them. “You don’t look the type, but suppose that’s the point, huh? Not everyone blatantly looks like what they are interested in.” Letting out a laugh, he pushed forward, making his way through the vibrant green grass as it crunched underneath his boots. 

     “No need to thank me, but I think I’ll walk with you either way,” Rhys offered, shrugging a shoulder as he began to follow his own directions, his gaze sizing up the boy beside him. “You never know if you might get lost. This campus is far bigger than you realize. One time, when I was a freshman I was looking for the psychology area... wound up walking in on the girl’s swimming team. Not exactly what I was going for, but not terrible either.” Pushing his fingers through his hair, he trudged along, plucking at the neon tank top he was wearing, trying to get a breeze against his skin. It was hot, far too hot for the start of the school year, and part of him couldn’t wait for the temperatures to drop. Whenever it was hot, he knew all he wanted to do was lay out and be lazy in the sunshine.

     “So, what the fuck made you choose Cabot Creek?” He asked, pushing the sunglasses up his nose, glancing at him discreetly. “Somehow I doubt it was the lush scenery.”

[theclassicsreader]

I am so tired of waiting, Aren’t you, For the world to become good And beautiful and kind?

Langston Hughes, from “Tired” (via theclassicsreader)

[alvieren]

[stellaemerson-blog]

Limelight Shenanigans

[rhysrainer-blog]

stellaemerson:

“Ugh tell me about it,” Stella laughed. “Like half of my paycheck goes towards clothes and makeup. The other half goes towards tuition. I get the struggle.” Stella glanced around the bar. Though it was empty, she could get a good feel for what it was like on their busier nights. “Seems to be a fun place. I’ve only visited a few other times since I’ve been at school here, but I’ve always had fun. At least of what I remembered,” she smirked and shrugged her shoulders. 

“But I know what you’re saying,” Stella nodder her head at Rhys, gesturing to his piercings. “I used to work retail and would get some snobs in the shop every so often. I had a bunch in my ear, and one in my nose. Plus I wore heavy eyeliner. Think I scared half the customers from coming in, and the other half always gave me a side eye,” she chuckled. Stella’s small flashback reminded her of her teenage years and she cringed at the memory of her poor makeup skills. “Luckily I’ve learned how to actually use eyeliner. And the piercings ended up being a lot of work to take care of, and I’m just too lazy.” Stella, almost involuntarily, rolled her eyes at herself. “Anyway, enough about me. Your a student, I assume. What are you studying? Also, have any tips for the newbie?”

     “Oh, you don’t have to tell me about that,” Rhys commented, letting out a laugh as he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I think I would pick buying clothing over rent any day of the week, so it’s probably good that I live on campus,” he said with a laugh, rolling his eyes at himself. “I would say that I remember most of my visits here as a customer, but that would be the biggest lie I would have told this century.”

     Wrinkling his nose, Rhys sighed, his head shaking as he felt for Stella. He knew all too well the kind of comments that could get thrown at you when you didn’t conform to what was considered the ‘norm’. He wished people would mind their own business sometimes. “If they were scared of you then they fucking had some problems. I think that’s always so stupid. No one should look at someone and tell them who they should or shouldn’t be. All this shit is is a form of self expression. No one with piercing or heavy makeup is more likely to rob you than the next person,” he muttered, waving his hand to dismiss his complaints. “Ja, I’m a student alright. I’m a fine arts major, actually. This is my last year. That probably really cliche, isn’t it? The person into self expression is all about art,” he joked, smiling across at her. “What about you? What are you studying? My only tip would be to take your time while you’re learning the ropes. If anyone gives you a hard time for that, then offer them something cheap for free.” 

[penypen]

[mypenleaksiridescence]

[jamesplatt-blog]

art house || james & rhys

[rhysrainer-blog]

jamesplatt:

       “WAS JOKING, bro,” James teased while playfully smacking Rhys against the shoulder with a wide grin. “The beach? Hell yeah. Giving me ideas already. Let’s set up an Art House weekend trip before it gets cold. Think we got another couple weekends where it’d be more than bearable. Beach is what? Less than two hour drive?” Life on the Cape provided James with some of the best beaches in New England; the waves desirable for anyone who enjoyed surfing or just riding the waves sans any boards. He’d been a lifeguard for a few summers and lived for the sane between his toes. It was nice to hear his first housemate had something in common with him already, besides a love for some sort of art and the pair both sporting tattoos and piercings- though Rhys had far more.

        James found himself near-envious of the way Rhys spoke about his brother. They had a bond most would never obtain, no matter how hard they searched, and without even seeing them together, it was evident in the way Rhys talked about the other. He smiled and nodded. “Honestly? That’s fucking… great. I’m pretty close with my sister, but we have our differences, y’know?” he asked, shrugging. “Anyway. Surprised you two aren’t– getting a place together? Unless he’s going to live here, too?” Part of him hoped so. He wouldn’t mind seeing that kind of bond between brothers, wouldn’t mind observing and studying that kind of relationship that seemed to know few bounds; but another part of him wasn’t sure how that kind of pre-existing bond would impact life in the Art House. Relationships could be messy, especially living with other people, and James was hoping to avoid any kind of negative confrontation. 

        “You a musician?” James asked, noting the way Rhys talked about music. People that weren’t musicians didn’t just say that kind of shit; though, this was the Art House and artists could be a touch otherworldly. “I’m the same way, though. With driving. Can’t survive a long drive without one’ve my playlists.” He held up his iPhone with a smirk. “Helps pass the time. Plus, I get lost in my thoughts. Though, I did get to drive with my sister. We didn’t have half as much as you brought combined.” James teased, nudging the other with a bump of his leg against his. 

      James squinted towards Rhys, not quite catching what he meant. “What are you saying there, kid?” he asked, prodding the other’s shoulder. “You calling me hot? ‘Cause I will have to agree.” He tapped the button on the thermostat, decreasing the stifling temperature. “Anyway. I’d like to set up my instruments and toss my clothes into a dresser, at least. Feel a little better about myself that way. Then maybe find something a little more exciting to do.”

       He picked up one of his boxes and nodded towards the hallway. “I’ll just take the first one on the left. Seemed standard enough. Let me just throw my shit in there. I have a speaker. Can set it up and we can jam out while we get our shit done? Hey, what’s your major, by the way? And year?”

     “I’m completely aware of that,” Rhys said with a laugh, pushing his elbow into the other’s side after his smack. “You think we’ll have enough time for that before it starts to get cold? It always seems to shift over so quickly here. One moment it’s hot as Hades and then the next it’s cold enough to freeze your piss.” While he enjoyed the cooler weather, there was something about the hot summer days that he wished he could dwell in longer. There was a freedom beneath the stifling heat of the sun, the thought that one could lose themselves in a single blissful moment where the waves were crashing and laughter permeated the air. “I don’t know how far it is from here, I’ve never gone to the beach around these parts. I don’t know if I even thought to bring a swimsuit alongside all my leather jackets.”

     His gaze skated over James, taking in the genuine expression on his face as he revealed how close he was to his sibling. He knew it was weird for people who didn’t have a twin --- difficult for them to understand --- but his new roommate seemed to be trying. It was always complicated, trying to explain their connection, because so many individuals had strange preconceived notions about what twins were like, especially identical ones. “How much do you see your sister?” Rhys asked curiously, cocking his head to the side as he observed him. “All siblings have some amount of difference, but I guess it’s just easier with my brother because I know where he’s coming from. It’s strange. But no, we’re not getting a place together, at least not yet. I don’t think we’d do well off campus. He’s kind of a social butterfly, you could say. He likes hanging around people. I don’t know where he’s ending up. I told him to pick what he felt comfortable with and didn’t ask. Even though I know he wanted to be with me at school, I feel like I kind of dragged him out here, so I don’t want to crowd his space.” Shrugging simply, he dragged his fingers through his curls, unsure if his statement seemed to contradict his others. He knew that he would wind up spending plenty of time with his twin no matter where he ended up, so that was part of why he wasn’t particularly bothered.

     “What gave me away?” Rhys asked with a grin, his fingers fiddling with his eyebrow piercing. “I’m assuming if you can identify someone who is one, you’re a musician as well?” Laughing, he rolled his eyes, bumping James’ knee in return. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know, everything that I brought was essential. How do you expect me to go on with my life if I have to leave behind a single pair of leather boots? Some have chains, some have straps, you really don’t know what the occasion will call for,” he joked, snapping his gum between his teeth. It felt good to try and forget about everything else for awhile. For him to be able to focus on someone, allowing him to get out of his own head. 

     “Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. You’re quick on the uptake, aren’t you?” Rhys teased as he pushed himself up from his spot on the loveseat, stretching his arms over his head, causing his shirt to ride up. “Well, then I’ll take the first one on the right, ja? I’m majoring in fine arts and minoring in psych. This is my senior year, actually. Which is a shame, because I like getting away from home. What about you?” 

[rhysrainer-blog]

drown it out || lena & rhys

     The first week back at school had already been a flurry of activity --- crazy parties, laser tag, and already an investigation into a murder followed swiftly by an arrest. It felt as though life had taken a dramatic swerve to the side, shoving them all off track as thoroughly as it could.

     It hadn’t taken much to get drunk every night that week for free, event after event making the perfect breeding ground for booze at every turn, but Rhys wasn’t ready for it to be over. Even if he had to pay for his own cocktails, even if he had to force someone else to have fun with him; there was one thing he was certain of: he was going to get smashed if he could. 

     Tugging Lena by the arm, he let out a laugh as she stood there, raising both brows in her direction. “Come on, Lena... I’ll buy you three martinis if you drink with me,” Rhys offered, giving her a smirk as he took her hand between both of his own. “Pretty please? Don’t make me pout, you know I’m going to win if I do, so you might as well save me the trouble,” he joked, rocking back on the heels of his books. “Besides, I think we could all use a drink after being investigated for murder. Can you believe they think someone here did it? Please, as though someone would come back to school if they killed a teacher.”

@eliasgoeseast

[stellaemerson-blog]

Limelight Shenanigans

[rhysrainer-blog]

stellaemerson:

Stella slightly laughed, she was a bit relieved that someone came to her rescue. “Oh shit well, I guess I can feel a bit better over the broken glass, not sure how prepared I am to break up a fight though. Don’t get me wrong, I can take a bitch when I need to, but I’d prefer not to be in the middle of all of it,” she shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “I’m Stella,” she took a few steps to the side and plopped herself on a stool, hoping to catch her balance and her composure. 

“Limelight, well,” Stella looked around the empty bar and thought for a few seconds. What did make her choose the bar? She never really thought about if she belonged there, it always just seemed to be the right move. “I’m not cut out to work at some fancy martini bar, no experience and pretentious assholes aren’t my scene. And the dive bar is fun to visit, not sure about actually working there. I hate clubs, and any place infested with a bunch of underage means less tips, so Limelight is my happy medium I guess,” Stella smirked. “How long have you been here?”

     Grinning at the Stella, he nodded his head, knowing that it could get intense when it came to angry drunk people. “Ah, don’t worry too much about it. Just grab security if it happens, that’s what they are there for. Best not to get too involved unless you think you can deescalate it by offering them a round of drinks on the house. It depends on how far into the fight they are,” Rhys commented, remembering one time when it had gotten out of hand, several customers having gotten caught up in the brawl while attempting to stop it. 

     “I can’t stand the pretentious assholes either,” he agreed, shaking his head at the mere thought as he got a wet cloth to wipe up the floor in case their were any smaller shards of glass left. “And they probably wouldn’t appreciate me all that much either,” he said, gesturing to his piercings and tattoos with a smirk, knowing how easily the upper class seemed offended by them. “Well, I think you’ll like it here, it’s got a good vibe, honestly. For the most part people are respectful and the music is good, which is a problem I find with a lot of places like this. If you play just one type, it alienates everyone else, but I digress,” he muttered, finishing wiping up, tossing the towel in the sink to rinse it after. He leaned his hip on the counter, considering her question. “I’ve been working here for about two years, this will be my third. Needed a way to make some extra cash. I spend way too much of it on clothing.”

[zwei-herzschlage]

[wnq-writers]

the strongest ones bleed in silence. have no one applauding their growth. have no one watching their healing process. they bloom in silence.

iambrillyant  (via wnq-writers)

[rhysrainer-blog]

melodybaxter:

She had arrived at Cabot Creek university, a lowly, nervous little freshman with no idea what on earth laser tag was and in her first game, she had been slaughtered and had all but begged for mercy. Over the years she had come back to the arcade with her friends and learned the game, becoming better with every virtual kill and more competitive every time she had stepped into the arena. Her size, which most would see as a disadvantage, was actually her greatest weapon and she was always sure to wield it.

Eyes skimming over the figure of the man her had turned too, and a smirk played across her lips. Platinum blonde hair and more piercings than she could count, he looked effortlessly like a rockstar with soft brown eyes and a wide, cheeky grin that she couldn’t help but return. “He always prattles on and on, but I know for a fact that no matter how much ‘explaining’ he does, you don’t learn a thing until you step into the arena” she said, using her fingers to air quote the word ‘explaining’. “Oh, I am more than ready” she grinned, cocking her eyebrow and slapping her gun into her palm. “I have been waiting for this all week”.

Her eyes lingered each member of the opposite team, sizing up each one with a small smirk playing on her lips. “Nice to meet you. Warning, I become really competitive, you may be about to see a particularly ugly side of me. I’m little, but people forget to look down and focus straight ahead, so I am, always missed” she told him, making sure only he could hear her. She grinned, “I say let’s bring him to his knees” she winked, just as the doors opened to the arena, one door for their team and one for the opposing team. They would have only a few minutes in the arena to get themselves into position.

     With a laugh, Rhy nodded his head, readily agreeing with the petite brunette about the situation. Laser tag wasn’t a game where one could easily follow a set of rules to win. There was far more to it than that, a certain amount of strategy and an understanding of the way other people’s minds worked required to win. It was rare that you could go in shooting blindly and expect to take down all your competitors, those were the types of people who were taken out in the first few seconds of the game. They gave themselves away, were too ruthless, too quick to pull the trigger, which meant to Rhys they were the least dangerous of them all. It was always smarter to go after those attempting to be stealthy, to take out the players that rarely drew the eye.

      “It’s true, the arena is a war zone and only the seasoned survive,” Rhys retorted with a smile, taking out his beanie from his pocket, pulling it on to disguise his platinum locks so that they didn’t stand out in the darkness. Shooting her a wink, he gestured towards it. “Always best to know your weaknesses before your opponent points them out for you.” 

     He turned towards the crowd of people, standing out like a tree among a throng of shrubbery. “No worries there, nothing like healthy competition to get the blood flowing,” he responded, waiting for the doors to open so that they could go in. “I say we stick together as a team, ja? Better to have someone watching your back for you, less likely for either of us to get taken down then. There’s a spot in the far left, I usually like to occupy, it gives good cover for someone of my height as a starting point. That is, if you’re game?” Grinning at her, he moved forward as the groups of students surged in, everyone rushing to try and find their own havens.