don't look back

rhys. sociology major. haven't cried since '01.

[wickde]

inesbarnett​:

Taken back by his confession, she bit down on her lip. Mulled it over. She sometimes thought about if she had really had her ‘first kiss’ or even actually lost her virginity in the first place. The concept of virginity was, of course, socially constructed. Because of that, Ines supposed she could go without thinking about it so often. But, the truth was that she thought about it a lot; thought about her body as tainted, as the site of a crime. 

“Really?” She cringed at the shock in her voice, tried to smooth it over with a reassuring smile. “Sorry. I just. You’re you, you know?” Shrugging, she averted her gaze back to the couple, still going at it at an aggressive rate. “Wasn’t expecting that, I guess.” 

“It’s so… easy to love. I don’t know. I guess for me it is. Sometimes I worry that I’m always gonna be the one loving and never the one being loved. Does that make sense?” 

it was rhys’s turn to blush, apparently. he shook his head, looking down at his hands, then over at ines again, with just one eye open, squinting at her. skeptical.

“i’m me, alright. that’s, uh. kind of the problem.”

he fell silent then, grateful to listen to the soft lull of ines’s voice. sometimes he wondered how she saw herself. even now, when she averted her gaze from him, or when she ran a hand across her stomach to smooth the satiny fabric, or when she stumbled into a corridor bathroom and saw her reflection in the mirror--what did she see then, in the dim light of a stranger’s commode, four feet away from a yellowing toilet bowl, boxed in by four walls seeming to close in more and more the longer she stood, what did she see and, more importantly, what did she think of it?

i’m writing you a story, rhys thought, amused. i’m writing you a story in my head, ines, but it doesn’t have an ending yet.

“i know what you mean,” he murmured, leaning forward a little, sharp shoulder blades peaking, creating a strange silhouette on the ground beneath them.

“i think you’re special, though, nes. special enough to be loved by somebody someday.”

rhys laughed at himself, at his phrasing, a breathy laugh, a cloudy one.

“i mean, i love you. but if we’re talking about somebody who’s gonna sweep you off your feet, yknow, tell you how beautiful you are when it crosses their mind--yeah, you’ll find that. the world’s not as unfair as people say it is, i think. a girl like you’s gonna get the love she deserves. one day. i believe that.”

[holbrooktm]

“i don’t know why i got so many weird looks for showing up dressed up as an astronaut,” reynold mused, trying and failing to puff out smoke rings.  he was determined to get it right. “paul rudd was clearly the star of that movie.  young leo whom?”  he tried again, still falling short but enjoying the effort immensely.  “the whole tragedy would’ve been avoided if juliet had just gone with paris and that’s that.”

[wickde]

“you’re...right, i guess.”

admittedly, rhys was only partially listening to what reynold had to say. not that that was unusual, given the lack of value rhys tended to find in the thoughts reynold felt compelled to share. at this moment, though, he was distracted for an altogether different reason.

“you’re doing that wrong.”

rhys pointed a limp index finger at the cigarette in reynold’s hand. if this was a couple years ago, and if he was a different person, he would’ve just snatched it away to give the man a visual example. instead, he just waved sort of vaguely.

“turn your lips into an O, like a fish, and puff out but really gently. you’re blowing way too hard. try it again.”

[wickde]

inesbarnett​:

“Drinking is overrated, anyway.” Softly, she smiled. Ines was never one to pester or push people into saying more than they wanted to. Eager to change the subject away from alcohol, she followed his finger to the people below them, leaning her elbows onto the balcony to get a better look. On her tippy toes, it was probably a dangerous position to be in, but she wasn’t exactly alarmed. Maybe it was the bit of alcohol in her system or her overall disregard for her wellbeing, she didn’t know.

Chin in her hand, she tried to avoid the blush that inevitably rose to her cheeks, letting out an apprehensive laugh. “Are you gonna mock me if I say I’ve only kissed one person? So I don’t think I’m exactly an expert on the subject.” She scrunched up her nose, the thought occupying her mind was usually reserved for when she was alone in her room, distaste sitting hot on her tongue. What she refused to mention was that said kiss was with her TA and that, afterward, she had squeezed an entire tube worth of Colgate into her mouth. She’d never had a consensual kiss, it seemed. Shaking the thought away, she squinted at the couple. What they were doing didn’t look like love. Or even mutual adoration. They looked frantic. Like they were just going through the motions.

“It makes me sad. You know? The thought that it’s a means to an end, at least to a lot of people… I dunno” Ines shrugged, gave him a small smile, eyebrows raised. “What ever happened to loving other people? It’s a lost concept. Everyone I see on this campus looks like them” she nodded to the couple below them. “Makes me kinda sad. Maybe I’m just sensitive though, you think?” 

rhys appreciated that comment silently, the implication that drinking wasn’t everything. it was hard to find people who shared that opinion--sometimes rhys wasn’t even sure if HE believed that. sometimes he had these moments, split second visions of a parallel universe where he picked up the svedka by the neck (by the throat) and downed it, halfway to hell, the way he used to. flashes of a possible future. the thing that always deterred him was really just the fact that it would be inconvenient. to him, to everyone around him.

“i wouldn’t mock you for that, ines. are you joking?” he laughed, glancing over at her, noting the blush creeping across her face. he didn’t think anything of it, really. instead, he looked back out at the couple, frowning.

“i’ve never even had my first kiss. ever. so.” he shrugged, squinting. changet the subject. fast.

“it’s--yeah. you’re right, though. i don’t think you’re sensitive. if you are, then i am. people don’t love each other right around here. it’s like they don’t know how.”

[wickde]

inesbarnett​:

The warmth of his body was a comfort, a bit of peace amid the seemingly always chaotic environment of Yates. Ines was trying to contain her laughter, but she was never particularly good at staying lowkey, and the stream of giggles bubbled out of her quite loudly. “I didn’t even think of the Syphilis, oh my God. I think he just wanted me to call his dick Hamlet or something. Which–” She shivered dramatically, pretended like she was about to vomit. “Disgusting. Just. Gross. No.” 

Her eyes remained on Rhys as he showed off his skirt, focusing on the flowing fabric. She dropped her mouth in an O shape at his declaration, arms crossing in dramatized jealousy. “It has pockets? Are you joking? None of my skirts have pockets.” Stepping forward, she leaned down to let her fingers graze the hem the skirt, soft fabric against her skin momentarily. “I’m definitely stealing this from you. I don’t think it will fit, granted, but I’ll make it work.” 

Leaning back against the balcony, she bounced her leg energetically, in tune with whatever music was blasting from inside. Her vision stayed focus on Rhys, the sight of him always putting her in a pleasant mood. He was perhaps the only other person who didn’t seem to conform to the general mold of Yates culture. It made her feel seen and like she wasn’t completely alone. He was there, and she felt less weird and more electric.

“I had one drink and I feel like one of those Jack in the Box toys ready to jump into the air. Or like a bunny. A rabbit? I dunno. How do people drink?”

rhys stared out over the balcony, down at the manicured lawn beneath. people, as small as ants from up here, meandered around the yard. he watched a couple kissing sloppily with sloshing drinks in hand, and it made him smile. they looked sped up, the two of them; they were kissing like they couldn’t wait until it was over. he wondered if that was what kissing was supposed to be like and figured yeah, no, probably not. not that he would know. 22 years old, never had a first kiss. it didn’t bother him. not really. not most of the time.

“you see those two down there?” rhys extended a finger to beckon toward the couple in question.

“don’t they kind of look like they actually hate each other? i mean, not like hate-fucking style but like they’re just kissing to get it over with.”

he knew he’d glossed over what ines had said, and bit the inside of his cheek as a sharp punishment, a reminder to reel it in.

“uh--to answer your question, i don’t know how people drink, but i know i always drank as fast as possible. when i drank. so. it was a means to an end, i guess.”

rhys hadn’t yet told ines his reasons for abstaining from drugs, and he wasn’t planning on it. instead, he went back to ogling the kissing couple on the lawn.

“is that what kissing is, too, do you think? a means to an end?” he gave ines a sideways look, half-amused and half-curious.

“when i see people making out like that, like so aggressively, that’s what it seems like.”

[wickde]

inesbarnett​:

“Well. To be fair. I think he was the gay one.” Ines couldn’t help the laughter that left her, finally feeling at ease in the presence of someone she knew wouldn’t start shoving drinking into her open hands. She let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding in, physically relaxed her body. “So we both gender-bent classic Shakespeare characters. Do you think we’ll anger any conservatives tonight? I hope so, personally. ” Wriggling her eyebrows playfully, she gestured towards the front doors, desperately needing some fresh air in the midst of the suffocating crowd. 

Making her way outside, she continued rambling, just happy to escape the overwhelming environment. “I’m happy to see you. I was about to leave if one more person offered me an unknown substance. One guy–” She lowered her voice dramatically, cupping one hand around her mouth like she was telling a secret. As if Rhys wasn’t the only person within earshot. She did have a flair for the dramatics, if only in the playful way. “One guy not-so-subtly hinted at weird Shakespeare roleplay sex. I had to pretend my mom was calling me to escape him and hide out in the bathroom for an hour.”

The humid air outside was welcoming, like a warm hug on a summer night. Ines leaned back against the balcony, smiled at her friend. She took a minute, taking in his outfit, admiring the stark contrast between his dark attire and the bright colors she was adorning. “I like the skirt. Might steal it from you.” 

“if we don’t, nes, then we’ve done something wrong.”

rhys followed her out the door, grateful for the wind and the quickly darkening sky punctuated with fat, low clouds reflecting back the color of the sunset. it was a beautiful night and there was no getting around that. ines looked beautiful, too. it seemed like she had this way of always picking outfits that accentuated a new feature every time. rhys remembered that the first time he saw her, it was her eyes that caught him. tonight it was her silhouette, her figure draped in soft fabric, like a statue or a portrait or something else with majesty and an antique kind of beauty.

he snorted at the shakespeare roleplay bit.

“what would that even be? wasn’t syphilis kind of a problem when shakespeare was around? i’m seeing a lot of flaws in that roleplay scenario, it’s a no from me.”

rhys found himself leaning into ines’s side as they stood at the balcony, just for comfort. it was second nature to him, that sort of affection with her. he looked down at himself, stretching a leg out to show off.

“yeah, it’s--oh, shit. you’re not gonna believe this.”

he stepped forward, shoving his hands into the pockets of the skirt.

“pockets. it has pockets, nes. this is unprecedented. think of how many items i could store in here. simply imagine.”

[inesbarnett]

“And that’s why the entire concept of societies is just completely white, patriarchial, classicist bullshit–,” Ines gestured wildly around her, trying to talk sense into a pretentious Hastings boy who wasn’t even listening to her, only entertaining her as he tried to forcibly shove another drink into her hands. She’d already had a single vodka lemonade, and that was enough to make her feel her favorite type of tipsy. That is, just inebriated enough that the volume of her voice raised by degree with each word, but still alert enough to know when the neanderthal in front of her began to lower his distance to her cleavage. Just then, someone brushed passed her shoulder, and she used the opportunity to get away from the man in front of her. Giving the dumbass a quick thumbs up– “You know what, never mind!”– she hurried behind the stranger. Only upon getting closer did she release it was not, in fact, a stranger. Ines began to wave her hands wildly in the air to catch his attention amid the crowd. “Hey! Heyy– RHYS!” she caught her breath, finally close enough to push herself onto her tippy toes and tap his shoulder until she had his attention. “I fucking hate it here, these people are demented.” She narrowed her eyes at him, attempting to focus her vision in the dark atmosphere of Hastings, no light but the soft flicker of candles. “That guy–” she jammed her thumb in the air behind her. “Called me Juliet. Do I look like I’m dressed as Juliet?” @wickde

[wickde]

it was...one of those nights, y’know? the kind where rhys had to peer into the mirror, peer hard, and say to himself, “alright, you’re gonna have a good time tonight. you look good, you feel good. you’re allowed to feel good. to feel. you know that?”

it sunk in like a shallow stab wound, which is to say that it didn’t sink in much at all but it certainly made him bleed. appropriate, though, given his costume of choice. rhys didn’t know much shakespeare, but he knew macbeth well enough to throw something together. it was a good excuse to wear a skirt.

he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been looking for ines tonight. ines acted like a lighthouse for him sometimes--someone he could trust to drink only a little bit, to partake but not so much that it would tempt him, someone whose voice hit like a breath of fresh air--especially in this moment. ines had found rhys just as he was charging through the crowd of bodies, attempting to remind himself why he was here, to forge some kind of reason at all. the panic was beginning to set in.

and then there was ines.

“oh my god. thank god. holy shit.”

the words spilled out in a supercharged flurry. he glanced in the direction of ines’s thumb motion and sneered.

“no, you don’t. i’ve never read the play but i’ll be goddamned if i haven’t seen the iconic leo dicaprio shitstorm adaptation. you’re, uh.”

wow, he really didn’t know the names. this was embarrassing, maybe. should he know shakespeare? like, is that a thing he should know?

“the...gay one. i’m sorry. the one who dies. i mean, they all die, right? don’t make fun of me for this. i’m so happy to see you.”

[wickde]

rhys luna as ... lady macbeth

“to bed, to bed. there’s knocking at the gate. come, come, come, come, give me your hand. what’s done cannot be undone. to bed, to bed, to bed.”

[jakegyllenhaal]

[lifeinpoetry]

God, I just want to be important. I just want to be someone real.

Ritapa Neogi, from “Marine Biology,” published in Alien Mouth (via lifeinpoetry)

[wickde]

(DOMINIC FIKE, GNC CIS MAN) - Have you seen RHYS LUNA? RHYS is in HIS SECOND year. The SOCIOLOGY MAJOR is 22 years old & is a TAURUS. People say HE is GENTLE, UNABASHED, AIRHEADED and SHALLOW. Rumors say they’re a member of WINTHROP SOCIETY. I heard from the gossip blog that HE IS A FORMER DRUG ADDICT. (merc. 21. est. he/him.)

yeesh alright hey im merc, i have not participated in tumblr rp in like 3 years so please let me know if i make any etiquette/formatting mistakes, im relearning all this stuff!

anyway this is rhys. i’m gonna direct you to the biography i wrote in his perspective, because i’m proud of it and it’s very telling i think (TW: light child abuse mention, drug addiction mention, general self-loathing). i’ll also drop some bulletpoints for fun tho!

he’s a sophomore sociology major in winthrop society. the houses don’t mean a whole lot to him, though, and he tends to disregard them for the most part

one of those assholes who’s, like, just the nicest person you’ve ever met. ray of sunshine type, unfaltering kindness, would die for a stranger. for real.

the source of his kindness is his lack of self preservation. he’s......not a huge fan of himself, so he channels all of his energy into making other people’s lives better

hates being perceived or Known. he’s incredibly private

has never been in a long term relationship. he’s never even really had a best friend before

his mother was emotionally abusive, although he’s not fully aware of that

he is currently 3 years sober! he’s a former drug addict now in recovery. he was in rehab at 19, self-admitted. he does not share this with anyone

he doesn’t share almost anything with anyone about his past. he feels a lot of disdain for who he used to be, so he does his best to ignore that

the sobriety does in fact mean that he doesn’t drink or smoke or anything like that. that’s subject to change depending on where the story goes

the man loves rodents

he sometimes paints miniatures for fun, even tho he has Chronically Shaky Hands

he’s bisexual and gender nonconforming but doesn’t care much for categories like that in regards to himself

his favorite mode of transportation is trains

msg me to plot stuff if u are interested in that! otherwise im totally good w writing on chemistry alone too :) im excited!

[hagologist]

[locussolus-blog]

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