#with: rhys dunsmore.

[ines-perez]

with: @rhysles​​ where: shining ball, outside.

Ines would never consider herself a smoker, but she did allow for the odd allowance. A particularly stressful day? Tick. Drinking socially? Tick. It’d carried through from her days working various bars, standing in back alleys with her co-workers as they share cigarettes, count tips and discussed the types of people they’d served that night (and how many numbers they’d been passed from people fawning over the short shorts).

Thats how she found herself here, lingering outside, unlit cigarette sat between two fingers as she gnawed softly against a red lip. Stealing one from a friend inside, she’d failed to pick up a lighter, and the pickings of people out here were few and far between. 

Yet, any of those people would still be better than the person she found herself wandering slowly towards. Maybe it was the five shots she’d had since her arrival ( or the half bottle of bourbon she’d shared with Theo necked without Theo getting as much as a sniff before arriving ) but something told her this was a good idea. They’d gotten over the awkward stage when he’d literally dropped a box at her feet, had they not? 

( Probably not, but rational thinking was left at the bottom of an empty glass a solid hour ago. )

“Hey.” She murmurs softly, gaze peeking through the mask that graced her face as she attempted to test the water with the person that had become her latest stranger. Maybe it was a terrible idea, but something had drawn her into his vicinity. “You uh, got a light?”

Suddenly, she felt exposed. Too exposed, but she managed to shrug it off. Liquid confidence really was on her side.

[dusty-anderson]

@elliotxdunsmore​

rhys’ backyard, early am

It was cold and late. Or, early. But Dusty’s blurry vision couldn’t really tell the difference between dawn and dusk. Blurry from the copious alcohol and unknown substances he willingly filled himself with. Some party at some house, some dude he remembered from school. Didn’t matter who offered him what, it was taken with a smile. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember his way back to the house he lived in for most of his life. He recognized this one, something about it was familiar.  First, he fell through some shrubbery and rolled over on his back with a loud and pained groan. Then, he stumbled to his feet again and climbed over a fence before falling to the other side with a loud bang. Another groan. “Little houses.” Dusty mumbled softly, cooing at whatever it was he could see in front of him. In his vision, they looked like doll’s houses or lego builds. Cutely stacked up with a little door. Mice house? “Mouse house.” he slurred, taking staggering steps towards them with open arms. He started trying to get inside, however possible. “Looks big enough for me.” he talked to nobody, words slurring together as he could hardly stand. Then, one of the hives toppled out of his shaky hands. And he fell with it, falling forward and eating shit. And then the buzzing happened. A black cloud of wings flying over his head. “Shit, fucking shit it’s bees! Why would you put bees with mouse-s? What the fuck? Bees. They’re fucking bees.” he yelled into the night. “Someone fucking help me, I’m gonna die.”

[strikercannon]

larimer county rodeo and fairground !  ( closed for — @rhysles​​ )

“ well how’s about i give y’ five bucks — “ a crumpled and torn note swiped from the back pocket of some hot-shot that had been sauntering around the rodeo , too big for his boots , was produced from his belt , “ — if y’ can stay on the back of mr . mean longer than i can , “ the huffing bull turfed the ground of which it stood , steam billowing from blared nostrils , eyes glittering merlot-red whenever a dark gaze met the dwindling sunlight . five dollars , to some , may have seemed like pathetic money of which to risk your life ; perhaps that much was true for regular folk , but for a male that often forwent his wages to ensure his brothers were warm , fed , and with a roof over their head , the face of abraham lincoln staring up at him was a once-in-a-blue-moon phenomenon . “ an’ if i win you owe me a drink — a real drink . ‘s all well ‘n good gettin’ through my own supply , but i gotta sell some of that , “ 

[dylandunsmore]

When: May 3 2022, Dylan’s 28th birthday party Where: House in southside, friend of Dylan’s Who: @danny--anderson​

Dylan had never been happier in her life. Today was her birthday and tonight the world felt like it was celebrating. Or, to be more specific, her world was celebrating. South side had come out to party, filling one of her friends houses with thick crowds who smoke and drank like the world was coming out of war. It wasn’t just a normal birthday for the young Dunsmore but the first since getting her brother back from prison. The party becoming somewhat of a welcome home for him, friends from all over mingled in together. Dylan fed off all the good energy, the well wishes, the dancing and celebrating. Her laugh was often mixed in with the music, her smile shing as she spun around with her friends dancing in the middle of someone's lounge. Today Dylan was happy, and no one could end that, not even Danny Anderson. “I would ask who invited you,” she starts as she stops right in front of him, somewhere in the middle of a hallway full of people “but I’m pretty sure you’re attached to my brothers by the hip. Did you get lost on your way back to them? Did one let go of your hand?” the last part makes her laugh, trying to imagine Danny holding Rhys hand tottling along with him like she did as a child. 

[rhysles]

☆ CHRISTMAS 2022 ― gifts from rhys.

☆ DYLAN DUNSMORE. ( @dylandunsmore )

for dylan, rhys seized the opportunity back in october when he’d spent a few nights over at her place to kidnap her favorite stuffed frog plush, taking it with him so he could send it away to have it very carefully and lovingly cleaned and refurbished. he’s returned to his rightful home in a gift bag, nestled between homemade beeswax candles in mason jars ( a side endeavor he’s been working on, she’s the first to receive them ) and an assortment of candies and snacks like he used to stuff her stocking with when she was growing up. under all of it is another small, wrapped gift ― a photo clearly taken on an old, disposable camera many years ago of the three dunsmore siblings out in the backyard of their old house in the middle of a blizzard as children, dylan up to her knees in snow. rhys made the frame the photo is in out of scrap wood he found in the same backyard where it was taken.

☆ ELLIOT DUNSMORE. ( @elliotxdunsmore​ )

for elliot, rhys spent several months at the beginning of the year collecting wood from finn’s junkyard to repurpose into a bookshelf he built by hand out in the back yard and kept locked away in the shed to hide from his brother for the few more months it took him to build it, working on it for an hour or two here and there when he could. it isn’t wrapped because rhys isn’t sure he wants to fight that battle, but the shelves already have a few books on them, old ones rhys found of elliot’s when he was digging through their childhood things at their pops’ house.

☆ CORA STANLEY. ( @corastanley​ )

for cora, actual days are spent trying to decide on the right gift. christ, he hasn’t had a girlfriend in how long? he’s rusty, and he doesn’t want to make too grand a gesture ( and he’s not sure how well his wallet could manage one ) but he doesn’t want to disappoint her either, because she deserves something she’ll love. he eventually settles on a necklace, something small and simple that she might be able to wear every day if she wanted to — a fourteen karat gold chain adorned with a tiny bee charm. it’s kept in a small box on his person christmas day until the right moment under the mistletoe arrives that evening and he can gift it to her along with a kiss.

☆ EMMA STANLEY.

for emma, a small stuffed bear with a baby blue cowboy hat to match the one he’d gifted her at the rodeo, and it holds an envelope containing a hand-written coupon good for either one afternoon spent playing games with rhys and her mom at snake eyes or one movie night at the drive in as soon as the weather’s warm enough. in light of the gift she gave him for christmas, it doesn’t feel like enough — he’s only a little bit embarrassed to admit that the drawing of the three of them standing on the lawn outside of cora and emma’s house, all holding hands, was enough to make him tear up in the moment when she gave it to him and actually break down and cry hours later in his truck, pulled into the driveway, after he’s left christmas dinner at the stanley house.

☆ ANGEL O’CONNOR. ( @angeloconnor​ )

for angel, a hand-bound leather journal embossed with an ornate celestial design and featuring an onyx stone set in the cover to match the lighter case he got her for her birthday and a set of pens to go with it. the journal is empty, save for a note written on the first page by rhys reminding her that he’s always there to listen whenever she wants someone to talk to, but now she’s got a couple hundred blank pages for when she doesn’t. ( or when she just gets tired of talking to an old man. ) the bottom of the page is filled with shoddy doodles of snowflakes and what were supposed to look like snow angels but turned out more looking like crime scene outlines, and of course, love your brother from another mother, rhys.

☆ FINN O’CONNOR. ( @finn-oconnor​ )

for finn, a bottle of redbreast twelve year and a set of four new whiskey glasses. they’re nothing fancy and didn’t set him back too much for the whole lot, but rhys did take one of them in to a very kind older woman who occasionally runs a stall at the rodeo in the winter who personalizes gifts — typically leather or metal, so it was a long shot that she’d even be able —  and found that she could etch a monogram into the glass for him, so it’s engraved with his initials and a shamrock, and he’ll always know which one’s his when any of the rest of the south side hooligans come to bother him.

☆ DANNY ANDERSON. ( @danny--anderson​ )

for danny, a crewneck that still remains wrapped in his living room, a gift he’d gotten danny before their fight. he hasn’t seen him since, and fuck if he doesn’t miss his best friend, and he’s honestly tempted to just show up on his doorstep with the poorly wrapped, vulgar sweatshirt as a way to start to try and mend things with him.

☆ DJ ANDERSON. ( @dougie-anderson​ )

for dougie, a copper japanese tamagoyaki omelette pan. it’s small and strange looking to rhys, who hasn’t the slightest clue about cooking, but he knows he did see a youtube video of a guy rolling an omelette with a very similar pan and talking it up, and it seems cool, so he goes with it anyway, pairing the gift with a six pack of a citrusy IPA and a note that he’s gotta break the pan out next time they do brunch or something... is brunch too fancy for the southside? rhys doesn’t know. it’s just an excuse to drink at his favorite meal of the day.

☆ DUSTY ANDERSON. ( @dusty-anderson )

for dusty, rhys didn’t actually have a gift planned and was probably going to offer him a six-pack of beer. until the drunk bastard stumbled into his yard and smashed his beehive one night not long before christmas, that is. in return, rhys decides to get him a small breathalyzer on a keychain so he can carry it around with him and make sure to stay the fuck out of rhys’ yard when he blows a little too high.

☆ SOFIA SILVA. ( @sofia-silva​ )

for sofia, a handmade wooden boot rack for her mud room that he built over the summer and has spent the past several months trying to convince himself not to give her early because he’s actually really awful for that. it’s hand-delivered to her house with a bottle of wine and a hug a few days before christmas, and a promise to come visit her even more in the new year.

☆ STRIKER CANNON. ( @strikercannon​ )

for striker, a carton of marlboro reds and a twenty-four pack of beer that he picked up on sale at the liquor store. it ain’t much, but rhys knows it’ll at least be enough to hold him over long enough to have a couple of good nights. or maybe one really good night, knowing striker.

[danny--anderson]

𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 - self para

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be over later.” Danny’s voice was as determined as it could be to his brothers, who were already hauling ass to the Dunsmores. His face certainly wasn’t welcome but he wasn’t telling anybody that. For starters, what was the point in creating more of a show over something that was so irrelevant? What started as a disagreement turned into a full blown distaste between Southside bonded brothers. On top of facing Rhys, Danny would have to face Kenzie and Hunter all in the same room. No thanks. He’d have to face his son who had those same blue eyes that haunted him every time he closed his own.  Tattooed hands splashed the cold water over his face and then quickly swiped it away. It was these moments Danny hated the most. Those quiet moments in the bathroom where he would catch his reflection for the fraction of a second. All of the scribbled on designs and writings suddenly were markings of his mistakes. The ‘dream’ scrawled over his temple suddenly spelled out ‘failure’. Each tiny doodle of creative expression were suddenly like dream catchers, locking in every misfortune to his skin. The dagger on his cheekbone was the same blade he stabbed his own back with, stabbed others with. Every lie he told was scolded into his skin, every broken promise. Every desperate cry for attention, every loss of motivation. Every morning he’d wake up and wonder why he was even breathing. Every question of his sanity. Every question of his ambitions, and every search for them when they were lost. It was all there staring back at him, crammed into the milliseconds of his eyes glancing to the mirror. It would all flash at him like being plunged into ice water, and when he was alone he would gasp out for air. This was how he started every morning and ended every evening. Those same empty yet overwhelming moments where he would have to face himself.  He emerged from the bathroom just as he heard the engine turnover of his truck, that clearly the boys were borrowing without his permission. Guess they expected him to walk there. Maybe they knew and weren’t expecting him to show his face at all.  The tiny Southside house stood eerily in silence, just the faint sound of some dumb cartoons playing in the background. Danny walked straight out into the usual mess and suddenly his brain fall into a quiet. It didn’t even cross his mind as a coherent thought. Just a vision. Keys. Bike. Road. And he did it without a single doubt in his mind. The rubber screeched out on the road loudly as Danny hit the speeds he found the most freeing. Denver wasn’t far, but it sure as Hell would buy him some time until he figured where he could go next.

[cowboybumblebeebop]

THREAD SCENARIOS + rhys dunsmore.

YOU CAN’T BEE SERIOUS / contrary to popular opinion, many bees don’t just die off in the winter — in fact, they often retreat to the hive where they’ll rest and deplete their stored honey until spring. sometimes, the bees might even seek out somewhere warm to establish this hive. much to your muse’s misfortune, a colony has taken up lodging for the colder months in their home, whether in a basement or an attic or a crawlspace. whether they know rhys personally or just happen to have a friend who knows a guy, suddenly there’s a man on their doorstep with a cardboard bee hive and a shit-eating grin, ready to help.

DEMOLITION DUO / alcohol tw the southside might not be known for having the nicest homes, but damn if rhys o’connor isn’t determined to single-handedly prove that false. well, maybe not single-handedly. with the promise of beer and takeout ( and a little bit of stress relief ) to compensate, rhys has asked your muse to come help him tear down a couple of walls and fixtures to speed up the renovation process. and yeah, it might be a bit of hard work, but there’s also something real cathartic about swinging a sledgehammer full force through a bathroom wall, ain’t there? maybe save the beers for after, though. maybe.

[dougie-anderson]

closed starter, rhys’ home with @rhysles​

Don’t ask DJ why it has taken him so long to have this thought. Two years too long, to be precise. He boisterously appears in Rhys’ front yard, a determination etched into his expression that is otherwise nowhere to be found. “Dunsmore.” he calls, eager and excited as he marches with a profound bounce in his step. One hand waves out to beckon his friend, another additional brother to the not-blood line that continuously grows beyond any control. He realises how loud his voice has boomed and once he is close enough, he sucks in his lips to try and steady his excitement and obvious yelling.  “How much do these guys make?” he points to Rhys’ house but ultimately is referencing the bees on the other side of the building. “The bumblebees.” he says and blinks at the emasculating choice of words which contradicts his sturdy stance and wave of hand. “Like how much honey they make...like how long will it last?” he asks in circles because DJ, like his brothers, is not the best with his words. He grows frustrated with his own lack of vocabulary and shakes his head, the stray curls swaying with it. “What I’m trying to say is like if the diner...if we bought honey from you would it like...be often? How much could I get out of an order? And how often would I have to buy again? Or could buy again?” Does he make sense? To himself, maybe.

[angeloconnor]

Status: closed @elliotxdunsmore​

Location: Some sidewalk in Southside 

“Do I look like I need a fucking babysitter? I don’t need a fucking baby sister – sitter,” Angel laughs at her own flub, her words running into each other. She walks her bike beside her, convinced it’s the only thing keeping her tethered to the sidewalk. That’s the kind of night she’s having, one fueled with the sort of happiness that comes in a bottle – both pill and liquor. She’s not picky. And truth be told, if she had to bump into any Dunsmore on her way home and in this current state she’s in, she’s glad it’s Elliot. Dylan’s nagging and Rhys’ disappointment are the last things she wants fucking up her night. Right now, she’s in a world of her own design and living in it happily. Blurred vision no amount of blinking can bring back into proper focus. Breaths taking a more mindful effort while she becomes hyperaware of the way air physically expands her lungs. Clumsy, stumbling steps carrying her along, veering her right without precaution. Suddenly, the world is tilting. Did she let go of the bike? Shit.

[stevie-adler]

closed with @rhysles​ the phoenix -

‘how many of you are there?’ stevie knows she has asked this question many times while knowing rhys, but the dunsmores seemed to be multiplying. ‘this place should be called dunsmore springs.’ she speaks tunefully, wiping down the bar and slinging the rag over her shoulder when she was done. she walks to stand opposite rhys, an eyebrow raising as she smiles. ‘you should form a band called the dunses.’ she knows she’s funny, but she gives the joke to rhys seriously to see if he plays ball.

[dusty-anderson]

@rhysles​

NYE Party

Dusty made himself at home in a chair, still a shirt down but a poncho gained which was a win all round. He had to squint one eye to see properly, noticing the red haired friend that he owed a heartfelt apology to. Even though Rhys’ bees tried to kill him. “Hey-o.” he slurred and waved Rhys closer, because he didn’t have the sobriety to move from the seat. “Whys-thebees?” he added, thinking he made perfect sense. “Some home guard? Whys not a dog?” Dusty flipped the poncho like he was a wizard in a movie, sinking into the chair because he couldn’t keep himself up. “Hm? What...do.” A burp. “Do you have to say for yourself?”

[strikercannon]

CANNON CHRISTMAS 2022

striker doesn’t have much money , and so he’s forced instead to think of fun and out-the-box ways of showing those he loves how much they mean to him . thank you to the below inhabitants for putting up with this strange and slightly smelly man for as long as you have .

CASH CANNON . ( @cashcanncn​​ )

he actually did the laundry . no joke . sure , some socks are a little pink and that nice sweater feels slightly too tight , but it’s the thought that counts . the middle brother better not get used to it , though — this domestic side of striker certainly isn’t here to stay . 

DODGE CANNON . ( @babycannxn​​ )

there’s a case of their favorite beers with dodge’s name on it in the trailer . the boys will all enjoy the drink later on, a treat from the leftover money that won’t be spent on rent for the next few months. a toast will be raised to their mother — wherever she is — and they’ll all drink to her memory , hoping that someday she’ll find them out there up against the colorado sunrise . 

DYLAN DUNSMORE . ( @dylandunsmore​​ )

on the doorstep is a fresh ( ish ) cherry pie , to replace the thanksgiving treat that ended up smeared over the majority of his face. sure , it’s a little stale when biting into it , but it’s fresh ... enough . what more could you expect from a free handout from bradford bakes ??

RHYS DUNSMORE . ( @rhysles​​ )

luckily for striker he makes up where he lacks in the looks department with his strangely silver tongue . after a few choice words with the rodeo , he managed to score them a slightly more professional masterclass in riding the bulls . hopefully , next time , a few top tips will save striker from further injury . 

DANNY ANDERSON . ( @danny--anderson​​ )

draped over the door handle to his trailer are a pair of fuzzy handcuffs , for those moments late at night where he misses the shackles of a night in the jailhouse and striker is too far away to cause trouble alongside him . i don’t know what’s going on between those boys , but it’s probably best not to ask . 

ESMERAY KAPLAN-JOHNSON . ( @esmeraykj​​ )

on the doorstep of her home is a fresh , full bottle of whiskey ( that may or may not have been illegally obtained ) to re-fill the liquor cabinet of her parents’ house . attached is a sincere , albeit very badly spelled , apology note . the whiskey is , of course , tennessee’s finest — jack daniels — for what ex-clarkesville inhabitant would settle for anything less ??

TIZIRI SADAOUI . ( @tizirisadaoui​​ )

who even has a tape deck anymore ?? well , that much is irrelevant — nestled in the hay ( abandoned from his last job at her home ) there’s a cassette tape from all those years ago , a gift he created and yet never exchanged . scrawled on the back of the tape are a few songs that they used to listen to on those long drives . she always complained about his honky-tonk music , but there had never been a better time than now to at least attempt to vocalise his feelings . 

SOFIA SILVA . ( @sofia-silva​​ )

on her desk is a receipt for a pair of good quality gloves , to prove to his boss that he did , in fact , purchase them with his own money ; it’s an unspoken promise that , from here on out , he’ll take better care of himself , to ensure at the very least that he’s around to tend the ranch a whole lot longer . 

LYRA NELSON . ( @lyranelson​ )

striker bought her a little set of art supplies . they aren’t quality by any means , but it’s a silent thanks for her drawing of his mother , and an attempt at provoking more equally thoughtful art pieces from his jukebox friend . although it may have only seemed like a choice encounter , something random and irrelevant in hindsight , her kindness sure made a mark on the eldest cannon . 

[dylandunsmore]

DYLAN’S DELIVERY - FAMILY AND CO

All of these gifts were delivered face to face, all but Becky’s on Christmas Day.

Dunsmore Brothers

For her brothers Dylan commissioned Lyra to make items in her shed. At first she’d thought about getting them cool daggers because that’s the type of knives she would like but with some better guidance with Lyra they fell upon pieces that both Rhys and Elliot could use.

The first is a pocket knife for Rhys. The design includes juniper wood on the handle, a tree found in the area they grew up in. At the hinge a bee design has been worked into the metal - something Dylan was adamant a bee had to be included upon the piece. The knife comes in a slim wood box but can easily be thrown into Rhys’ pocket - it’s in the name after all. She paired it with two paintings where Dylan has very carefully used remains of Rhys’ beehive’s honeycomb as stamps so he will always have a piece of that hive with him. @rhysles

The second, third, and forth piece all go together and are for Elliot. After realising giving her ex-convict brother a weapon could come out poorly if crossed with the wrong cop, Dylan and Lyra reassessed. The pair settled on a set of shears that he could have at work; a set that was distinctively his. Dylan started talking about how Elliot had found a confidence in his work as Lyra pieces together a design that would reflect that. After a few ideas were drawn up Dylan realised how perfect the set would be and the pair made a deal. The three shears each have a unique floral design in their hand and an ED engraved along the blades outer side. They come in a leather wrap for protection and safe keeping. @elliotxdunsmore

Cora and Emma

Not knowing what to purchase a woman who seems to have everything she needs Dylan settles upon making something. It certainly helped her bank account out. Taking a photo of Cora and Rhys that her brother provided Dylan stuffs the photo inside a clear ornament. She then adds white little pieces of paper to make the appearance of snow then tops the piece with a gold ribbon. It’s wrapped rather poorly - lots of sticky tape trying to keep the paper around the sphere.

For Emma Dylan does in fact purchase something - in fact every kid she’s gifted to received new items, no second hand or hand made gifts. Dylan shows up with a box and asks to set it up in Emma’s room, disappearing to complete the job. Once ready she reveals a mushroom tent which she has strung lights up inside so Emma could chill out in no matter what time of day it is. Dylan in the time setting up had found some cushions and blankets to stuff in there so Emma could nap in there as soon as she liked. @corastanley

Dawson

Dawson’s gift gave Dylan the most stress. She didn’t know what to get him, he never really needed anything. She had to start thinking more sentimental and realised how there was no photos of her and Dawson together in his home. Unlike her gift for Cora, Dylan goes out to purchase a nice frame for the photo. The photo she uses is one from the art show where his arm is around her and they’re laughing about something long forgotten. It was the first photo that had been posted on them, the start of their journey. Additionally Dylan buys a big fluffy blanket for them to cuddle under, thinking it was the most useful item she could purchase them. @dawson-x-young

Roommates

Dylan will deny that she bought Ophelia and Becky’s gifts for herself, but realistically she totally did. After Aly introduced her to the wonders of specialty candles at Bath and Body Works she’d purchased six candles in total. Split down the middle (three each) she’d gifted each girl a Christmas themed scent, a floral scent, and a food scent. All six Dylan approved of and looked forward to being used whilst she is home. Additionally, throughout the days leading to Christmas, Dylan leaves them cake and hot chocolate bombs that were left over from baking with Cora. @beckymorrisxn @opheliaxfraser​

[rhysles]

☆ THE DUNSMORE SIBLINGS.

WHO: elliot + dylan ( @elliotxdunsmore + @dylandunsmore )

WHERE: pops’ house, thanksgiving

☆

          ❝ jesus h. christ, it gets colder every year we come out here, ❞ rhys swears under his breath as he ducks out the back door in a huddle with his younger siblings, shooing them out in front of him so he can steal one last glance over his shoulder at their father. and he’s exactly where they expect him to be, knocked out cold in his recliner in front of the television after a couple of beers and an impressive feast of a meal laid out by dylan and d.j. ( that danny is nowhere in sight in spite of his brothers’ arrival comes as a relief to rhys, and with it a pang of guilt he tries to push away in favor of focusing on the moment at hand. ) hands are shoved in the pockets of his hoodie the second the door’s shut behind him, and the trio are quickly en route to their usual spot tucked into the corner of the back porch. and to be fair, rhys doesn’t do this often — as a matter of fact, thanksgiving is just about the only day of the year anymore that the eldest dunsmore can be convinced to smoke, but the three of them sneaking out after dinner has become just as much tradition as their dad carving the turkey or someone spilling a drink at the table, and rhys can’t imagine the holiday passing by without it. taking a seat on the edge of the railing, rhys fishes around in his pocket for a second before retrieving a small bic, ready to toss. ❝ which one a’ you needs the lighter? ❞

[rhysles]

☆ ELLIOT.

WHO: elliot ( @elliotxdunsmore​ )

WHERE: rhys + elliot’s house, around 11 pm

☆

          rhys dunsmore is a patient man. christ knows, he’s got more patience than most. he might act bristly half the time, but he seldom means it — it takes a lot to well and truly frustrate him. to piss him off. he can feel himself growing close as he sits at one corner of his bed, surrounded by textbooks and workbooks and worksheets, all illuminated by the glow of a laptop with too many tabs open, none of which seem to be the least bit helpful in this moment. why the hell did he think he could do this again? several minutes are spent arguing with himself as he shoves the papers into neat piles, flips books shut and stacks them together. it’s late, he can just go to bed, try again tomorrow. only, how many nights has he said that this week? the real test is going to be coming up sooner than later. a lot sooner.

          rhys groans, drags a hand over his face and swears under his breath as he lifts the books and the laptop and kicks away the blankets so he can climb out of bed. he pauses in the hallway just outside his bedroom, and the sound of the television in the living room downstairs, the flashing lights splayed across the wall answers both questions he had. elliot’s still awake, and he’s not in his room. ( not that rhys can blame him, it’s always warmer on the first floor this time of year just because of where they have to place heaters. ) fuck, alright. he’s going to do this. he has to. he needs help, embarrassing as it is. and it sure as shit is, being fully grown and not being able to make sense of high school language arts and social studies ― fuck the math, he can’t... he doesn’t have the capacity for that tonight. that’s a problem for another day.

          ❝ that shit’s gonna rot your brain, i swear to christ, ❞ rhys chuckles as he shuffles into the living room, more to make his presence known to elliot in an otherwise dark room. and then, more hesitantly as he shifts the armful of books in his grasp, ❝ but hey, uh ― you got a sec you could maybe help me with somethin’? ❞

[rhysles]

HAND-ROLLED CIGARETTES  / a rhys dunsmore playlist

satan, settle down! keep your trousers on. you can warm the globe, but leave my wretched soul alone. i don't know you, and i don't owe you a thing, but the children lose their minds in such uncertain times.              a children’s crusade on acid // margot and the nuclear so & sos.

do you really like being alone? // manchester orchestra □  lost in my mind // the head and the heart □  baby shoes // bad books □  little lion man // mumford & sons □  i am a cage // right away, great captain □  bad moon rising // creedence clearwater revival □ pride // manchester orchestra □  nights in white satin // the moody blues  □ nightcall // london grammar  □  when i met death // right away, great captain □  house of the rising sun // the animals □ when the man comes around // johnny cash  □  rusted wheel // silversun pickups  □ mesa, az // bad books  □  a children’s crusade on acid // margot and the nuclear so & sos □  man of constant sorrow // home free □  in hell, i’ll be in good company // the dead south □  oh no, i tried // right away, great captain  □ human // rag n’ bone man