egojock

[egojock]

COMMUNITY (1.04) | SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGY

[egojock]

[egojock]

a look of disgust flickers over nate's face, flitting to the saliva covered straw and then back up to martin's mouth. it looked like the dog had gotten a hold of it. why nate's fine with mouth to mouth kissing but not whatever martin's trying to do is something that would take forever to articulate, so he merely shakes his head. "a nobody is someone who inflicts suffering on themselves by still using paper biodegradable straws even when the turtles are irrevocably fucked." his tone is as dry as his delivery, illustrating that he doesn't really care much either way and nate was merely trying to buy himself some time to filter his genuine answer. it was a broad question that nate didn't really know how to parse. "personally? i think a nobody is someone without a sense of discipline, who does whatever they want without thoughts of consequences or how their actions affect others." he's aware it sounds like he's describing himself — nate's not likely to disagree with that interpretation, either. sometimes you had to call a spade a spade. he gnaws at the swell of his bottom lip with a far-off look in his eyes, shaking his head dismissively. "you're not a nobody or even a fake somebody, martin. you've got real principles. you care about people." he doesn't know why, because nate thinks most people fucking suck and aren't worth caring about, but he thinks it's commendable that martin does.

❛ i always thought it would be better to be a fake somebody, than a real nobody. ❜ @egojock

martin crosses his legs, shoulders hunched over as he sips an ice cold lemonade. it isn't as sweet as he'd like; his mom does it best (although anna was good with lemonade too) but he'll take it in opposition of the summer heat. his arms aren't pink under the sun yet. he extends the drink out to nate, paper straw lightly chewed with habit. "what does a nobody look like?"

[egojock]

Will I always be alone in this house? Reading books that are too hard for me in the long fatherless hours?

let your dad die energy drink - daniel lavery and cecilia corrigan/bob’s burgers, 2011/family line - conan gray/@parentless-suggestions/promises of gold - jose olivarez/unknown/dna - lia marie johnson/i am angry because of my father - halsey/part of me never left that house - mada hayyas/unknown/father - demi lovato/franz kafta/unknown/primer - aaron smith/family line - conan gray/untitled - frank wright

***sorry for all of the unknowns on this one. I really do try to find the sources for everything but I kept coming up empty w these. If you know the sources pls comment/send me an ask or dm and lmk!!

[egojock]

he huffs a breathlessly deep laugh, endeared by joe's wandering attention and hands. their first meeting was rocky and unbelievably complicated in the way that only nate's life could be, but he's delusional enough to think that everything that's come after has been surprisingly easy. being around joe was easy, it felt akin to muscle memory, familiar despite the truth being they haven't known each other for that long and nate never thought he'd trust him as much as he does. "you were in special ed before you dropped out, huh," nate taunts, cocky pretense faltering as soon as joe attaches his mouth to a pebbled nipple as his breath hitches, mouth going dry with want. his breathing picks up, an encouraging palm sliding to the nape of joe's neck to thread into the cropped hairs there, looking down at him with an molten chocolate gaze. he's so frustrating, which is typical, but now he's riling nate in an atypical way. his face heats up, averting his gaze as a tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. "god, please don't be a fucking dick." it's a precursor to the inevitable begging that will occur if joe keeps teasing him like this. he breaks the seal of joe's mouth around him and lifts his shirt off entirely, back muscles flexing as he tosses it aside. nate's hand returns to those short hairs at joe's nape, tugging his head upwards so nate can kiss him breathless, siphon off whatever smokes left in his lungs. he's tenting the denim of his jeans, throbbing with need as he rolls his hips down to grind against the adjacent bulge in joe's lap, hissing at the rough friction when their mouths separate. "c'mon. or i'll decide for you," nate pleads, thumbing the fly of joe's jeans down to stroke the shape of his cock through more forgiving fabric, brows pinched and tongue sandwiched between his lips in concentration.

it probably says something about them both that after feeling like shit, they're that much easier to rouse, that much quicker to bend, and it shows. even with the windows tinted by nightfall, and their surroundings predictably empty, nate wouldn't do this up front. unlike joe, he has more to lose; more of a reputation to care about; a family to worry over. but with a curious lapful, and a set of words delivered like bait, joe's priorities reset — consequences tossed out the figurative window. selfish, he exhales, greedy hands surging forth to palm nate's ass over his jeans. their eyes meet, pupils partially blown. "huh?" joe wets his bottom lip, roaming blues dragging then to the part of nate's thighs, the ends of his top occasionally bunched to reveal slivers of hot skin. " — what i have in mind?" he's murmuring, half attentive when his left hand changes route, climbing instead up the enticing hem of nate's shirt. the fabric hooks between joe's thumb and forefinger, riding up higher — higher still. muscled ridges, a characteristic birthmark, a broad chest, moderately obscured. he isn't salivating, but he's close to it — embarrassing as that is. and in the midst of thought, joe leans in, tongue flattening over a pert nipple. his adjacent hand squeezes in tow, enthusiasm spiking when he sucks at the sensitive skin, teeth grazing it ever so slightly.

[egojock]

his heart jackrabbits away in his chest when nate's kiss is met with the proverbial stiff-upper lip, worried he's read joe's body language and banter all wrong. heat rises to his cheeks and nate shakes his head, shy. "weren't you just entertaining the possibility of robbing me if i was more of an asshole? i was distracting you, and hogging the joint," nate defends with a cocky lift of his brows, meeting joe's gaze challengingly. his head whips from side to side, checking the occupancy of the parked cars surrounding them before he takes a measured breath, giving joe another considering little look. high risk, high reward. nate leaps over the console and slides into the passenger seat, his knees bracketing joe's thighs as he dwarfs the boy's smaller frame. "uhuh. you ignored my question. and what'd you have in mind?" this game of cat and mouse was nothing new to nate, but he wasn't typically the one that pursued. he's never had to. the power dynamics between nate and joe changed from minute to minute, second to second. he's hard-headed and a fucking stickler for control, but right now he feels looselimbed, uninhibited enough to be receptive to whatever lowbrow shit flies out of joe's mouth. their closer proximity has his blood rushing south, inhaling the second-hand smoke billowing from joe's lips and getting a contact high.

nate must live off the squabbling, because he's relentless with it — toothy and smug and annoyingly charming in his delight. in an alternate universe they would be set at each other's hair, childish fists pulling at scene specific pigtails with silly repetition. and joe would point this out, if he wasn't momentarily stunned by an abrupt, interjecting kiss. he stiffens in habit, brows practically leaping off his face until the affection melts outward, the press of nate's mouth familiar once again. the publicity of it doesn't bother him, only the eventual cutting off does. joe stares, searching, as the tip of his tongue swipes over a split bottom lip. " — what's that for? tryna' get on my good side after pissin' me off?" nothing about the bark is remotely serious. his gaze flickers though, dips to nate's smirk then up again, maybe a tad admiring — maybe a smidge lecherous. he keeps a steady leer, mouth nipping the joint loosely, the chasing high an obvious second in priority. "y' could try better than that. jus' sayin'." a shrug, blatant in it's teasing.

[egojock]

"I have my mothers rage, and my father's ability to walk away. this, I've learned, is a very lonely combination."

Rose Brik, my father's eyes, my mother's rage

[egojock]

[egojock]

nate shakes his head dismissively, humor sloppily concealed between the pinch of his brows. most people who know nate at school don't think him capable of being humorous. "you both drive on the wrong side of the road, so it's the same shit to me, man. plus i know it gets under your skin." he's unabashed in his belief that it's funny when joe gets pissy, always quick to rile. there's a sadistic streak in him that can't easily be tempered. his gaze goes a bit wide-eyed and glassy when joe starts chattering, the kneejerk reaction to be an asshole and say everything joe's just said is a nothingburger, but he may be on to something. nate thinks of his father's long winded pep talks about football, how to be successful and have a good work/life balance. for good reason, it had gone through one ear and out the other. "why'd you jump straight to gold dusted pizza? already getting the munchies? carbs are the devil," nate chides, watching the halo of smoke anointing the crown of joe's head, gaze flitting back down to his crooked mouth. "i don't disagree." he rolls his eyes at joe's reassurance baked into a threat, feeling fond despite the nature of their conversation. nate's sure he would be more upset at the possibility of being robbed if it were his own money, but that's a tomorrow problem, and he's not exactly the type to care about principals. when nobody else looks out for you, doing things you don't entirely agree with to ensure you can get a full nights sleep is a means to an end. "where'd that money have gone, huh? to less shitty weed?" the question is rhetorical, and he makes sure joe can't answer by sealing their lips together to steal the smoke and breath from his lungs, chasing a contact high as he nabs the joint from joe's fingers. to effectively rob someone requires a distraction. and this shit here, isn't the kind of thing nate does in broad daylight unless he's under the influence. they trade kisses back and forth, a roguish grin dimpling his cheeks when nate looks back at him.

joe snorts, offending elbow returning with double the effort. "how many times i gotta tell ya i'm not english huh? got sand in yer ears or summin'?" the irish brogue pours in with emphasis, a tipped grin offered then to meet nate's wistful one, as snappy quips fill the quiet a little easier. neither of them have much experience with this: honest conversation, vulnerability exchanged and shared; not with family, not with anyone. so he smokes, eyeing nate in glimpses, before he's shrugging, shoulders lifted in belated response. "maybe everyone's a lil' rotten 'nyway. they jus' pretend it's not there. all caught up in — work — n' cheatin' — n' eatin' fuckin' gold dusted pizza or summin' to think 'bout how shit they are." how rotten can they be when they've seen and known worse? joe tips his head back, a pool of smoke seeps out overhead like a halo. and swivelling south, his brows set in a furrow, blown pupils meeting nate's own. "maybe it matters feck all. 'sides — i woulda' picked yer' pockets clean if y' were that bad."

[egojock]

nate's not sure where the admission comes from. a rare moment of self-awareness and clarity amidst years of deluding himself he can be something he's not. he changes where the goalpoast is, whose cheering for him in the stands, but he always ends up right back to where he started, as conflicted and misguided as ever. sometimes, it felt like he was suffering without anything to show for it. his voice, even his internal monologue sounds grating to his own ears, and a figure that's shaped a lot like his father overlooks this exchange, clicking his tongue derisively and concluding nate shouldn't act like such a bedwetter. it doesn't inspire confidence. his gaze warily flits to the joint, brows pinched as he considers it before finally bringing it to his lips and taking a drag, cheeks hollowing with the inhale. "and it's not the devil's lettuce swaying your opinion on that?" he quips, a self-effacing smile tugging at his lips as he passes the joint back, exhaling plumes of smoke alongside tension. nate's muscles are still sore and strained from practice, reaking of menthol and camphor thanks to the tiger balm applied to his skin. there's too much lactic acid in his body right now. maybe he's morose because he's not at his best. "it's a good thing you're so normal and well-adjusted. i draw less attention to myself in your company." it's tongue-in-cheek, but despite their abrasive first meeting nate finds that he means it, he feels more calm and composed in joe's company. nate wants to think of himself as a fixed, strongly rooted tree that bends for nobody, but he's quite mercurial. "don't worry, downton abbey. i don't take it personally that you have to be stoned out of your gourd to appreciate my company." he huffs a little laugh, hints of mirth dancing in an inky gaze directed at joe's broody profile. he looks like a pictorial when he smokes, a real marlboro man.

— ❛ i realize you can change the people, change the scenery, but you can’t change your own rotten self. ❜ @egojock

nate's come round enough that joe's gotten good at picking out the sincere comments from the full of shit ones. sometimes he likes to be ridiculous for the sake of it — moan over an itch he'll forget the following hour — but on occasion, once in a sensitive blue moon, he will mean every word. his heart will pour out of his chest like pungent gasoline, and nate will hate the admission more than anyone else privy to it. this time, joe's senses suggest this particular confession one of the latter. (the truth is in the details: the discomfort, the impatience, and the self-flagellation.) he's learned to adapt to both extremes, and it's highly convenient then that his cheeks hollow around a joint. he sucks it red, and with a shuddering sigh, holds the rest of it out for nate to pinch. "...c'mon now." there is no rolling set of eyes, no scoff nor condescending sigh — only a quiet look and an impending high. the words aren't alien anyway, they echo with unbearable reason. joe elbows him once more. "dunno. yer a'right sometimes."

[egojock]

❛ i don’t want to be good, no matter how hard you wish it. ❜ ( also from winnie bc dare she try to be a good girl for him…. )

"i don't want you to be good either," nate confesses quietly, running his hands absentmindedly through long locks of auburn hair, gaze softly sweeping over her features. nate doesn't trust good. anything good he's ever had, he's crushed in the palm of his hand like butterfly wings. he doesn't know his own strength, but this was less of a concern with winnie. she had power of her own, one that was supernatural as well as just a quiet inner strength. winnie wasn't dependent on him, she's been a loner for even longer than he has. nate being apart of her life didn't make or break her existence, and because he's wired the way he is, not having that control scares him. but his father had always told him that pain and discomfort was a sign of progress. nothing worth having was ever easy, or comfortable. cal jacobs had been an impulsive fuckup, but there are some life lessons that remain in nate's playbook. "how about being a good girl for me? but maybe you mean something else," he teases, brandishing her face with a palm before he leans in to kiss her tenderly, thumb sweeping over her cheekbones. if she's alluding to the blood on her hands, nate doesn't care. the rest of the world could operate with their reductive black and white worldview, but nate and winnie were fine with living in their shades of grey.

[egojock]

he bites back an indignant huff, soft brown eyes flitting over cassie's face as if it'd give any extra insight into her flawed point of view. she was always searching for validation and words of affirmation from other people, which nate can't really fault her for. usually, from a certain male demographic, but that wasn't a stone he could really throw from his glass house when he was chasing tennis skirts around. in a way, they were both starved for affection, and despite his brusque attitude, he empathized. "evidently, you weren't. do you really see a future with mckay if he's gonna buckle under the slightest amount of external pressure?" sure, that pressure happened to be nate this time, but these thoughts and doubts were already in mckay's mind. perhaps in cassie's, too. things were easy right now, but the pressure would really be on once mckay went off to college and prioritized going pro. nate shakes his head, offering her a placating smile. "if it's any consolation, you weren't the only one humiliated tonight. my dad thinks he's a seasoned football coach despite never having played," he says, sounding resigned. even saying this much felt like he was giving too much away, which is why nate preferred not to talk at all. nate didn't trust his dad enough to allow himself to be known, nor cassie or even maddy. maybe he was setting himself up for a lonely existence, but having some semblance of control has always been a priority for him. a tired hand scrubs over his face. "fix it how, cassie? tell him you have my stamp of approval and he's missing out?" theoretically, he could do that but he's not sure why he should when nate had his own relationship to work on fixing.

cassie does not know why she is here recounting such personal information about mckay to his best friend. yet the truth is she needed an outsider perspective and.... who better know her boyfriend then his best friend? she has nothing against nate. when you know, he is treating maddy correctly. but she is not brave enough to speak up on their relationship. everyone is scared of nate but.... cassie just finds him... predictable in a way, like she knows him and maddy will always be on and off and is that not exhausting? but still things she would never say. plus nate owes her for sabotaging her relationship in the first place with his stupid question. cassie could feel annoyance forming along with the stark insecurity every guy installs inside of her at some point. she is always thinking of a way to win the wandering men back but she is also questioning nate's words and who wouldn't? she's heard first word about how manipulative and assholish he is. " well, can you like fix it? you started it and i don't even know why, we were fine until you said anything. " her arms cross over her chest expecting him to do something like he had the answer to everything.

@egojock

[egojock]

when his elbow is subtly nudged and martin makes his retreat to the stairs of nate's bedroom, his cheeks heat when the exchange draws the stares of his family. nate clears his throat with a small shrug, placing his cutlery down on a picked-at plate. "i'm pretty sure he's on the spectrum. special needs. he's harmless. nice guy, though," and that's all nate is willing to relay to his family about martin, alongside his actual opinion of martin. cal burned the bridge of being trusted with the people nate cares about a long time ago. nate held martin in high esteem, but they'd be none the wiser. he doesn't acknowledge his father and offers his mother a perfunctory smile and thanks her for cooking dinner, then he high-tails it outta there. when he makes it up to his room, he leans back against the door and sighs, eyes fluttering shut. fucking kill me now. nate spots martin perched on the foot of his bed, and he moves to take the seat beside him before flopping onto his back to stare at the ceiling, despondent. "i hate being here," he says very quietly, as if it's a confession not meant to be heard. small, child-like. nate doesn't know how to feel right now. his brows furrow, warm browns flitting over martin's features in search of any give. "what's your angle here? trying to see if the apple really doesn't fall far from the tree?"

"yes, it's nice to meet you mr. jacobs, mrs. jacobs." he smiles plain and harmless, hand extended to secure both grasps in the exchange. aaron doesn't seem to bother, but martin finds himself subject to a shared curiosity then, all parties (nate included) seemingly uncertain as to why this spoken fact is true. the inquisition hovers unasked. instead, they relocate, perusing glances interrupted by a calling for dinner. martin tails them to the kitchen, though he disperses when nate comes into view. their eyes don't meet; it bothers him. he stalls — patiently grabbing food for his own plate, then pursuing polite commentary, however brief. "the food looks very good, thank you." and then, with a quick nudge of an elbow against nate's side, martin turns to retreat up the stairs, climbing to his room then without invitation.

[egojock]

@carminekings: [ GIFTS ]: sender arrives at the receiver's house with gifts for the homeowner themselves

when martin shows up to the jacobs household with gifts for the entire family, nate is dumbfounded, to say the least. thought out and considerate gifts, too. martin is detail oriented and has taken everything nate'd told him in confidence into consideration, offering marsha a bouquet of fresh flowers and aaron a smiley-face keychain. he looks befuddled, but grunts an affirming "thanks," before retreating back to his room. "so you're the kid my son has been hanging around." cal is assessing martin, and nate's stomach feels like it's full of lead as he stands there beside him, so nate opens the door to allow him inside. his cheeks heat, accepting the nfl chargers mug martin's gifted to him to inside and promptly fill it with whiskey. nate takes a swig, his expression pinched because the night hasn't even begun and he already wishes it was over. it was nothing against martin, he just didn't like involving people he cared about with his family. it always ended disastrously. "mom says dinner's ready," nate says, trying to provide an out or an alternative conversation escape route as his gaze flickers over to martin's face, then back to the family-style buffet spread. salmon, roasted parmesan aspagarus and cheesed cauliflower. he hurriedly makes his plate, avoiding eyecontact.

[egojock]

[ PARTY ]: sender arrives at the receiver's house to attend a party that the receiver is hosting. ( rue duh )

knock knock prompts ! ( accepting. )

nate beams when he opens the front door to see rue standing on the front porch, giving her a cocky lift of his brows. he'd always thought it was the darndest thing that despite not being his biggest fan, rue never failed to show up at one of nate's parties. or mckay's, but they were pretty much nate's by proxy. he steps to the side to allow her entry, gaze roaming over her petite frame. if she happened to be clean right now, it might not stay that way for long. "rue. glad you came. we needed someone whose a master at her craft," he greets, and it's almost amicable aside from the insidious implication. rue was great at partying. nate was too, but he had different vices -- he couldn't numb his feelings with anything other than alcohol when he was being piss tested for PEDs. he'd have to toss back some vodka redbulls and call it a night. nate would allow himself to blow off steam because it was all a balancing act, but he was always thinking about the big picture. life after east highland, when he was out of cal jacob's kingdom into one of his own. alcohol numbed some of nate's issues with control, made him feel less inhibited and like he actually had autonomy over his own life, up until that illusion boiled over into something tumultuous. they were both familiar with putting their bodies through extreme things if it meant that their minds would be quiet. there wasn't anything nate wouldn't do for that feeling of peace, that illusion of safety. "what can i get you?" to drink. she's already got a guy for the other nefarious shit she likes to do, and nate would really rather not think about it nor waste his breath trying to categorize their ambiguous relationship.

[egojock]

@depictedblue: "i tried to be good. am i no good?" // perhaps... season one nassie?

nate resists the urge to smile, because he knows she's going to hang on his every word regardless. both mckay and cassie were so malleable, easy to manipulate. he'd taken every word about cassie's past promiscuity to heart, but in a way, he was also only trying to spare mckay some of his own pain. he knows maddy has been unfaithful to him, which is why he doesn't feel as guilty about having wandering eyes. an eye for an eye makes the whole world go blind. "nah. you're great. maybe he's just not ready for a big commitment right now, he's got a lot on his plate," nate reasons, awkwardly rubbing the side of his neck because this was by all means, horseshit. it's a half-hearted attempt at making her feel better. he doesn't actually have anything against cassie, aside from the fact that she's the kind of girl he'd be nervous to take home out of fear his dad may try to fuck her. if she was a saint, capable of immaculate conception like fucking virgin mary, then it might have been a different story but instead he resents her promiscuity. he doubts she's the kind of girl that stays faithful. nate's just doing them both a favor, really. "but it's better you know now rather than later, right? seems like you didn't know, uh, that you were just chillin'," nate recalls, huffing a little mean-spirited laugh.

[egojock]

KNOCK - KNOCK PROMPTS.

listen i recently became obsessed with the amount of television shows that have a mystery person knocking on the protagonist's door as a major finale cliffhanger, and it got me thinking, and now we have this list that a few immensely talented people helped me with! that said, we know the drill by now. DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST OR CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN! IF YOU HAVE IDEAS FOR MORE PROMPTS SEND THEM TO ME AND I WILL ADD THEM!

[ KISS ]: sender shows up at the receiver's door and impulsively pulls them in for a passionate kiss that punctuates a lengthy slow-burn between the two.

[ WOUNDED ]: sender arrives at the receiver's door with considerable injuries, in dire need of help and emergency care that only the receiver is either trusted enough or convenient enough to provide.

[ TEARS ]: sender shows up at the receiver's door in tears and in need of comfort after a long day (or week, or month…)

[ DEFEATED ]: sender arrives at the receiver's door after having lost a considerably important battle (metaphorical or literal) and needing a place to recuperate from the loss.

[ FUGITIVE ]: sender, having just become a fugitive from the law, runs to the receiver's home in the hopes of finding shelter and safety with them.

[ GIFTS ]: sender arrives at the receiver's house with gifts for the homeowner themselves.

[ APOLOGY ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to apologize to them for a past wrong-doing (specify if you wish!)

[ DATE ]: sender arrives at the receiver's house to take them on a romantic date.

[ HANG OUT ]: sender arrives at the receiver's house to hang out with them for the day.

[ GO OUT ]: sender heads to the receiver's house to take them out for a day of fun/relaxation.

[ COLLECT ]: sender shows up at the receiver's house to collect something that the receiver has either purchased for them or borrowed from them.

[ DELIVER ]: sender shows up at the receiver's house to deliver something to them that either the sender borrowed or the receiver requested from them.

[ CONFRONT ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to confront them about an on-going problem between the two of them.

[ FAVOR ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to ask them for a favour.

[ RECRUIT ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to recruit them for an upcoming task that the sender is unable to do alone.

[ ROOMIE ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to move in with them.

[ COMFORT ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to comfort them after the receiver has a difficult time or experiences a significantly difficult event.

[ HELP ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to help them with something that the receiver is either procrastinating or unable to accomplish on their own.

[ LEISURE ]: sender goes to the receiver's house for a movie night or a game night.

[ WARN ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to warn them against doing something that they suspect the receiver is preparing to do.

[ THREATEN ]: sender goes to the receiver's house in order to threaten them.

[ REUNITE ]: sender returns to the receiver's house after having been away for a while, intending to reunite with them.

[ GOODBYE ]: sender goes to the receiver's house to say a final farewell after learning they're due to leave town, possibly for good.

[ SECRET ]: sender sneaks out to the receiver's house to meet with them in secret.

[ BAD NEWS ]: sender arrives at the receiver's doorstep to deliver some bad news to them (SPECIFY THE NEWS).

[ PARTY ]: sender arrives at the receiver's house to attend a party that the receiver is hosting.

[ NEIGHBOUR ]: sender, having just moved in next door, arrives at the receiver's house to introduce themselves.

[ ENGINE ]: sender's car breaks down in the same street that the receiver lives on, leading the sender to knock on their door to ask for help.

[ PRETEND ]: sender knocks on the receiver's door to ask them to pretend to know them for the sake of a cover story.

[ VISIT ]: sender goes to the receiver's house for a casual visit.