#euphoriaroleplay

[fucknathanieljacobs]

Nate Jacobs & Cassie Howard: In The Dead of Night

Nate had never held Maddy, he had never truly held anyone, he had no desire to. What was the point of a momentary pause, a disruption rather, slipped between much more potentially lustful actions.The concept of physical intimacy outside of sexuality bored Nate to the point that he’d previously never cared to experience something so seemingly undesirable. Perhaps that disdain stemmed from the utter neglect of affection that burdened the pivotal years of his adolescence. In fact, the majority of his previous gestures in courtship had been feigned emulations of tired romantic standards or of tropes popularized by films and television; meaningless boxes of chocolate, hastily selected bouquets, or lingerie which was without a doubt more for his selfish pleasure than his partner’s. Even his dialogue choices within his relationships seemed to fall off the pages of scripted, tired Hallmark movies, mimicking empty lines he’d heard recited before. He would go through the motions vacantly, incapable of feeling a truth to the “love” he had convinced himself was present.

That was however, until he witnessed Cassie Howard cry on New Years Eve; the small of her back pressed tightly against the frame of the door, her baby doll eyes wide with the sheer terror of a circumstansial possibility that had yet to even happen as she desperately searched his gaze, pleading silently with him for guidance as the gentle warmth of her cry began to cascade down upon flushed cheeks. There was danger in the moment and not simply from the pounding fists of his impatient ex girlfriend booming upon the opposing side of the wood of the door; one hasty movement, he felt as if he could crush Cassie entirely as her delicate, nearly angelic head rested between the calloused skin of his two palms, heavy hands instantly softened as his thumb lightly began to stroke the damp flesh of her porcelain cheek. In front of the boy who felt nothing was the girl who felt everything. Nate was entirely fascinated by Cassie; how could something so fragile exist in such an unforgiving world? There was a strength in her that his emotionally stunted youth would forever prevent himself from comprehending fully but he felt deeply privileged to witness her as she was truly art.

  He felt a sacred power in familiarizing himself with her fragility and knew without hesitancy that from that moment onward, he would go to any length to protect her exquisite vulnerability. 

Any length including facing the demons head on that his father had left scattered in his wake. Laying to rest the inherited shame of his past enough to attempt to dig out any fraction of a heart he had buried under his aggressive, guarded exterior in order to allow Cassie in would be essential to embarking forward into this new chapter with her. Perhaps to an outsider, seemingly spontaneously moving this girl into his home cloaked in the dark shadows of the midnight hour would be an act of extremity but to Nate, it was strategically calculated planning, the culmination of his unconventional personal redemption arc and above all, it was the next logical step in protecting her. She belonged to him, that he knew from the moment she smiled in his direction from the moonlight stained passenger seat of his truck that fateful night, but what was completely uncharted territory for the football star was that for the first time in his life, he felt as if he irrevocably belonged to another in return. 38 missed calls later and he had not recoiled from her affection, and be it Maddy, he knew his phone would have been thrown across the room after berating her for her impatience. He needed Cassie  close, all of her, in every form and as her palms frantically pushed against his brawny frame, he knew what it felt to yearn to hold another, to simply exist in the peace of the aftermath of the skepticism and judgment and pain they had trudged their way through to end up there in that moment, alone together in his bedroom, or rather for the foreseeable future, *their* bedroom. His eyes fluttered to a brief close, cherishing the rarity of this experience he felt he had waged a lifelong war with himself to reach. Nate’s lips fell upon the crown of her head, pressing a deep, lingering kiss upon the golden strands of her hair, trailing his lips downward to land steadily upon her forehead. As he seemingly towered over her, his body slumped slightly to match her height, his arms remained enveloped around her petite figure, holding her, *actually holding her* without the thought to rush forward to whatever came next. He needed her to feel safe and Nate Jacobs ached to be her safety. Replacing his lips with his forehead, he ran his palms upward, tracing over the fabric of her clothing until they settled into place upon her cheeks, his gaze immediately taking hers. 

“I…think you may be my fucking world, Cassie.”

His tone was low and gruff yet inquisitive, almost as if he was discovering the depth of his emotional attachment as he spoke.

“I’m not a good person, Cassie, that is no secret. It’s always been me against the world but for some fucking reason, I need you by my side. I’ve done things you couldn’t even begin to fathom….but the way you look at me, this blind faith you have in me…I have this desire to do it all a little differently now.”

The last letter of his sentence lingered in the settled quiet of the room and he searched her expression for any concept of her reaction to this hurricane they had found themselves in the eye of. 

[artofroleplaying]

logged into my three-four year old roleplay tumblr to see that my plot bunnies are STILL getting notes... i’ve been out of the tumblr rp community forever but... i’d like to come back? i’ve lately been really into hbo’s euphoria and i’m always down for some good ol korean idols rp?? send me a message if ur interested!!!

[fucknathanieljacobs]

Nate Jacobs, Little Boy Lost.

An overwhelming calm crept over the shadows of Nate Jacob’s bedroom, slithering into every corner, every crevice, blanketing the air like a heavy, crippling weight as he lay upon his back, fixating his gaze to a particular swatch of peeling paint that had somehow become painfully obvious to his keen eye despite the surrounding darkness.

There was nothing comforting about this calmness, this stillness that seemed to stop the flow of time between the four walls of this generic bedroom of a high school quarterback, the only decor being trophies of past victories that seemed to blur together, insignificant and nearly meaningless in the hindsight of it all. No, this was an ominous tranquility, as if a soft, uneasy whisper was rising up from beneath the silence to hint that it was all just beginning.

"Nathaniel, your whole fucking life's a secret. A mystery."

His father’s targeted words shouted so pointedly amidst the slurred speech of his drunken bender as his brawny frame swayed upon the perfectly manicured stairwell of the Jacobs household a mere hour before scraped continuously at the back of Nate’s mind like a dulling knife, looping, clawing against the confines of his sanity. As his thoughts began to spiral, his calloused hands tugged upon the fabric of the sheet beneath him, balling his knuckles into tight, tense fists.

"Who knows about you? I have lived with you. I have raised you, I am your father. I know nothing about you. That's not true, I know that you're angry."

How dare his father not see that this emptiness, this vacancy of youth, of substance, had been bred and perpetuated by his own doing. How dare he speak of freedom from a life he felt so burdened by without taking ownership of ruining his son. He had raised a little boy lost; so devoid of affection and true guidance that the only remainder of humanity in his pivotal transition into manhood was too far cloaked in layers of trauma and ever present anger to truly surface. In his isolated quiet, Nate tried to source his memories for before the numbness set in, before the day to day auto piloting and emotional emulation became his normal behavior, perhaps a time of innocence that hadn’t been filled with faux laughter and forced smiles. Did those moments ever truly exist for him or were they only displayed in media he consumed, this unattainable idea of a healthy, doting family dedicated to the wellbeing of their children. His father had even managed to rob him of the potential concept of family trauma bonding; a moment that could have perhaps mended any possibility of a family environment finally without the presence of his father, an aspect of mutual affection that could be shared in the wake of his emotional destruction but, no. Nate had already known his father’s secret, a secret he had kept locked tight for seven years that wreaked such havoc and developmental destruction upon his adolescence that he had dissociated from forming any concrete personality just to keep, his sacrifice amounting to absolutely nothing now that his paternal figure was so carelessly choosing to scream about his closeted queerness in the foyer, hardly scratching the surface of the loaded layers behind his confession. Within his ramblings, his drunken narcissistic father failed to mention his graphic collection of homemade, male centric, violent pornography with predominately underage teens Nate found as a mere eleven year old child, but no, why would he focus on how he threatened his own son into silent submission, leaving behind a vacant shell of a blooming boy, when he could instead victimize himself in his self inflicted chaos and once again inform Nate that it was his son’s fault for not allowing him in.

Interlacing between the echo of his father’s slurred speech was the voice of his ex-girlfriend, his Maddy, the words bouncing off a moonlit memory from the night before as she asked in earnest if he’d ever felt loved by her, the whites of her puppy dog eyes searching his stoic demeanor for any ounce of true emotion to cling onto. “I don’t know” he remembered responding, his gaze fluttering closed momentarily, tearing away from the peeling paint as his gut wrenched upon the most honest moment he allowed himself to have in recent memory. How could he possibly know love? There had been no love within his father’s insatiable desire for violence or the distance his mother put between her and the bouncing baby sociopath she knew they’d inevitably bring into the world their second time around. He searched so desperately to know even the smallest aspect that breathed hope into the sensation of love. He could almost see the brightness of love dancing upon the golden strands of Cassie Howard’s hair when sunlight trickled delicately through the blinds in the early hours of morning. He could almost feel the heavy pang of heartache attempting to break through when Maddy’s tough exterior had cracked before him in utter desperation to save any remainder of their relationship. There were seconds where his heart began to beat faster and slower all at once but as quickly as the sensation came on, it seemed to be ripped away.

A muffled buzzing abruptly vibrated upon the wood of Nate’s bed-side table marking the first sign of life for hours that penetrated the darkness of his bedroom. Almost in a reflex, Nate’s right hand immediately shot up, clutching the vibrating device, swiftly throwing it across the room where he lay, a loud huf accompanying his violence, his body jolting upward and forward, as he watched it land safely in one piece near the doorway. He couldn’t even destroy a Goddamn phone when his father had so effortlessly destroyed an entire family.

In a sudden burst of aggression, Nate allowed his lips to part in a scream, a piercing yell that came from the depth of his belly and rose the veins of his neck to the surface, his flesh immediately turning rosy with his rage. A large breath to catch his anger followed as he threw his muscular frame back upon the mattress, another full body scream piercing the air as he rocked his figure forward and backward continuously slamming himself upon his queen sized bed. Feel something, you fucking asshole. His subconscious screamed. Feel fucking anything.

[fucknathanieljacobs]

After about a month, I’m finally back and steadily writing. I would love to build connections and send starters to any who are interested. A bit about me; I am a single muse (Nate Jacobs, Euphoria) writer, multi-paragraph to novella writing, discord banter friendly, mature themes and 18+ writers only. Writing samples can be found on my tumblr. Please message me here or on Discord for storyline development and starter requests. If we’ve spoken briefly before, please don’t hesitate to reach out and refresh my memory!

Discord:ShyGuy118#6626