#i stopped there bc i had to stop fucking typing

[etherealily]

ᴘᴇᴛᴛʏ // ɴᴀᴛᴇ ᴊᴀᴄᴏʙꜱ

My other Nate fics, if you have the time.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader.

Warnings : Cussing. Slight NSFW (non-explicit bc it's me). Long but (hopefully) worth it.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Revenge is a dish best served cold-hearted.

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Nate's never really been one for one night stands. Yeah, he knows that he seems like the type, but honestly, he was deathly scared of STDs and shit, and plus, he worried that if he didn't stay with the girl and give her a relationship, she might say some bullshit around about how bad he was in bed. It was pathetic, he knew it, but that's a really hard thing to discredit, because what would he even do? Fuck the entire female population in the district to prove her wrong?

That being said, he was only a man, at the end of the day. Alcohol and women, bro, lethal fucking combination.

So, when his hand finally stopped pressing the side of your face down into the pillow and he finally pulled out, his dread came faster than he did.

He flopped down onto the bed beside you, attempting to catch his breath while curiously watching your back still facing him. "You okay?" He seemed more confused than concerned. Like his dick was the fucking godfather of all dicks, and there was no reason for you not to be anything short of grateful.

You seemed to jerk out of your thoughts then, and turned to him, bunching the sheets up to your chest. "Yeah, no, yeah.", you replied, eyebrows twitching as if unsure whether they wanted to frown or furrow.

"What is it?", he asked, narrowing his eyes as he tossed you your clothes.

The corners of your lips turned down, and you shook your head. "Nothing."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?", he asked, sitting up and stretching for a single, peaceful moment, before he stalked over to his bathroom.

"Like what?"

He scoffed from inside, splashing water from the running tap onto his eyes, before glaring at himself in the mirror. "Like I just hit the second tower.", he called.

You didn't respond as he cleaned himself up, and he rolled his eyes. "What, too dark for you?"

Nate pulled on a fresh pair of boxers after he was done, and stuck his head out the door, gesturing that it was your turn. He stopped you as you passed by him, though, tilting his head down at you. "Did you not come?"

Fuck. You'd been under the impression that he was too drunk to have noticed that look on your face, and now he was just spot-on with the observation? "No, I just, uh..." Think, fuck! "...I feel like I recognize you, from somewhere.", you lied.

He let go of your elbow, letting you go in and clean yourself up as he settled on the edge of his bed, unlocking his phone. "From where?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck, could he not just shut up? Alright, wait. You'd seen dumbbells in his room, meaning he was a gym-guy. So the gym would be a safe option to say, but then again, he had all the shit in his room, why would he pay for a membership? "Football.", you blurted out.

Silence. "Oh, yeah, I'm QB for East Highland."

Sheer, dumb luck. God couldn't help you out in exams, but would have your back with lying to a lousy hookup? Priorities, man, come on.

"Right, probably there."

"So, you from around here, then? Like, what's the deal? Haven't seen you before at my games."

You really wanted to stay in the fucking bathroom, because how fucking awkward was this shit gonna be when you got out? Walk of shame, questions from your Aunt Leslie, shit.

"No, I live in New York. I'm just visiting my cousins and my aunt for Christmas."

He leaned back against his headboard, his eyes illuminated by his phone screen as he typed your name into Instagram. How the hell did you have so many mutuals with him? "Oh. Cool.", he called, cursing under his breath. Of course your fucking profile was private. You had hardass written all over you.

You took a deep breath. It didn't fucking matter, you were drunk. Yeah. You were drunk, you didn't have sex, you were just drunk and roaming the streets. 'Sorry, Aunt L, I just didn't know my limits. Yeah, sorry. I won't do it again.' Good. Alibi prepped.

Biting your hair tie from your wrist and tugging it up to tie your hair, you were just about ready to— no.

A fucking hickey?! Was he a fucking dumbass?

You practically broke the door handle, with how aggressive you were, and you walked out the bathroom to the sweet release of AC. At least he wasn't that much of a dumbass.

He shut his phone off, scratching at his jaw and scrambling for small talk before the dreaded post-coital analysis that was sure to come. "So, who's your cousin?"

With his luck, it'd be Maddy.

"Uh, Rue and Gia Bennett, you know them?"

Whoa. Whoa, whoa, scratch that, his luck was fucking amazing tonight.

A smirk. A shift in the sheets, and he was entirely facing you. "Yeah?"

"You know her?"

"Small town."

You nodded, your fingers picking at the edge of your phonecase. "You close?"

"No."

Once more, you replied with a nod, switching on your phone. Okay, curfew was twelve for you, eleven for Rue, it was ten forty-five. So, you had ten minutes to get back to the party — wait, why had you even fucking left? Like you couldn't have hooked up at the party? God, alcohol should be banned around you, you'd just followed some guy back to his house to hook up, with nothing but a fucking name, and you'd just told him you weren't from here, who your family was— fuck! You were a danger to yourself with alcohol.

"How far is your house from the party?"

He raised a brow. "Like, two or three blocks."

Huh.

"Why?"

"I need to get back, pick up my cousin, take her home."

"Rue.", he said, maybe as a giddy little reminder to himself.

"Yeah, Rue. I can't let her stay unsupervised at a party. She's a recov—"

"Yeah, a recovering addict, I know. We all do. She OD'd, we thought she RIP'd."

"So did I. Scary."

He clicked his tongue, nodding offhandedly. "Uh-huh, yup. Tragic. Hey, did you actually come?"

"Come where?"

He raised a brow.

"Oh. Uh—"

"Don't lie to me. I'm not a jackass who doesn't know how to make a girl come."

Beg to differ.

"No, you know what, man, it's alright, I really gotta be—"

"We have to remedy that.", he declared, with a barely controlled chuckle of absolute exuberance. "So you can have at least one win tonight before you go babysit Cousin.", he grinned, leaning over to kiss at your forehead, your nose, cheek, and then, of course, your lips. "Don't we?", he murmured, covering your mouth as you attempted to protest. "Yeah, we do.", he continued, kissing down your chest, now, fingers skimming up your dress once again as his mouth lowered. But his eyes stayed on yours, a sort of quiet challenge in them. Amusement, too, if you squinted.

"You're so fucking hot.", he muttered, his teeth leaving another fucking hickey (you were about to stab him) on your inner thigh now. "Sorry I didn't make you come before. Happens sometimes, when I'm drunk. Let me make up for it."

And, to his credit, this time he actually did.

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Fuck. Fuck. "Rue? Rue? Fuck, talk to me, Rue!"

"You're really fucking late.", she slurred.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that— don't pick up! It's your mom, neither of us wants her to hear you like this."

"Is that a hickey?"

"Burned myself on the hair iron.", you replied, adjusting the rearview to focus your gaze on her twitching body.

"Yeah, sure.", she groaned out, shifting around in the backseat as though she were in pain.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I've greened out before, it's not a big— fuck, pull over, pull over, pull over, pull FUCKING over, Y/N!"

The car screeched to a halt when you did, turning to watch her bang open the door to throw up into a nearby trashcan. You briefly wondered if this particular trashcan and her were acquainted, if she actually had greened out a lot of times before this.

"Why did you even smoke the weed?! You said you were just drinking!"

She gripped the bench near the trash can for a moment, before shaking her head and leaping back to retch again. You rolled your head back onto the headrest, running a hand over your jaw. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Rue? Rue, you okay back there?" You couldn't hide the fucking tremble in your voice, and she seemed to notice it, too.

"Yeah, fuck you, man, c'mon, I'm not a baby, I told you, I've greened out before. Drive."

"What if your mother drug-tests you?"

"She won't. Hide that "flat-iron-burn" from her and she'll think you were with me the whole time. Okay? I— wait, wait."

This was not the fucking time for her to be looking at her motherfucking phone.

"Scratch that alibi. Fuck that whole shit, tell her I was with Ali."

"Who the fuck is Ali?"

"My sponsor. She knows who he is. Just tell her he texted and we're fine, and drop me off at this, like diner or whatever. I'll tell you the way."

"Rue, it's Christmas Eve, you're not seriously gonna spend it without us, are you?"

"It's not even real fucking Christmas! Jesus!"

Silence. You grabbed the phone from her, placing it on the dashboard and letting the Maps do the talking for the rest of the drive.

Fuck this night.

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Fuck. Fuck. He was trying to zoom into your profile picture, not fucking request you like a goddamn loser! He'd never requested anyone in his life, save for Maddy, after she removed him that one time. He groaned, running his hands over his face. Yeah, sure he could have un-requested, but shit, he'd show up in the 'people you might know' list, anyway, and the notification might have already— and there it was. You'd accepted. Fucking great.

You followed him, as well. Actually great.

Almost greedily, he clicked on the one post you had.

He scoffed, practically throwing his phone on the bed.

It's always the bitches who post sunsets that you can't get out of your head.

Fine. Whatever. He wasn't interested in your bullshit sunset post and two story highlights full of music or your friends (all girls, good), anyway. He was interested in how you had so many mutuals with him, seriously. Thankfully, with the exception of Lexi Howard (he figured that was a through-Rue-friendship), there weren't any other liabilities. He liked this.

He didn't, however, like the amount of his teammates who sat in that Mutuals tab. Did you just go through football players like fucking tissues? Did he just get a second-hand dicking down?

Okay. Backing up. He didn't know anything about you, for real, he had to chill out.

A little more sleuthing, and he figured it out. Daughter of a college scout. No fucking wonder. The guys on his team were shameless. Wasn't the college he wanted, but hey, he'd use the excuse of a career to stay in your followers list.

What did you fucking think about him? He's sure Rue must have got into your head about him — he doubts you've even told her, though.

Either way, the urge to find out was getting stronger.

Since his break up with Maddy at the winter formal, he really had been on one. He wanted to fuck some shit up, do something that didn't revolve fixing shit that was broken ; relationship, family, reputation. He was sick of it.

And hence.

Hey.

??

Nate from Christmas Eve.

Oh, hi.

Mall 2morrow? U + me?

Idk. Idk u that well.

Okay, fair. You were sober, and being rational, not wanting to go out with some guy just because you'd hooked up with him once. Smart. He didn't like you sober, though.

Public place. I'll leave you alone the second you tell me. Promise.

Idk man.

I'll buy u an Xmas/New Year's gift.

For what?

I can't stop thinking about you. I'll be there @ 1 if u change ur mind.

You had hoped with all your heart that you wouldn't run into him when you were dropping Gia off at the mall to hang with her friends, but of course, the universe thought your life was a big fucking joke.

So, you were grabbing an iced coffee to go, and there the fuck he was.

"Look who made it. The path to every girl's heart is a gift, I guess."

Did he think leaning against the counter like a cheap James Dean knockoff was going to have you rushing to get in bed with him again?

"I was doing something else. I'm not here for your 'Christmas-slash-New Year's gift'. "

"Yeah, dropping baby Bennett off, I know, I saw. Why'd you stay, though?"

"What, I'm not allowed to stay anywhere now?"

"Yeah, you are."

A pause as he inconspiciously swatted your hand away, offering the barista his card.

"But staying here with me? That's risky, isn't it?"

"Why?"

Huh. So you hadn't told Rue. Good to know.

He shrugged, taking the card back. "'Cause you know I'm about to spoil you fucking rotten.", he grinned, waving the card in front of your face.

"Yeah.", you scoffed, handing him the money you were supposed to pay the barista before you collected your iced coffee. "No thanks."

He pouted. "Yo. I'm being for real. I had a really good time. And I'm sure you did, too."

You opened your mouth to protest, and probably bring up his worst moment, so he shut you up by wrapping an arm around your shoulder and steering you out of the store. "The second time, at least. Cut me some slack, I was drunk."

"That is a comfort to no one but you."

He glared. "I'm not that bad in bed."

"I'll see you around, Nate."

A scoff. A very publicly inappropriate kiss.

And then, he's towing you to the mall restrooms.

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TWO DAYS LATER.

You could never for the life of you understand why there had to be so many different types of fucking laundry detergent, and evidently, neither could Rue. But, then again. Rue wasn't quite there, to particularly understand it.

A low, mildly-surprised whistle, and both of you turned.

Nate pretended to busy himself and act like he was admiring the bottle of alcohol he was turning around meticulously in his hand, but you knew better.

"Fucking prick."

"What? Who?"

"The guy across the store who just pretended he didn't whistle at your ass. That guy."

"Who is he?"

"Nate Jacobs. Jock, so you know, that's the prick part."

"What? You're gonna give me the big-sister talk and warn me to stay away from him 'cause he's bad news?", you scoffed, allowing her to lead you the fuck away from this liability of a quarterback, to where a new array of indistinguishable laundry detergents sat.

"You just gave yourself that talk. Did she say Ultra Oxi or Ultra Matic?", she asked, screwing open the lid to take a sneaky whiff.

"What's the difference?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to know? Okay, you know what? You ask her, and I'll go get Gia's soda and the baking powder for her birthday cake, yeah?"

You nodded, reaching into your pocket for your phone and looking down at it, rubbing the nape of your neck as you tried to get some signal.

"'Scuse me." A whisper. A lewd, firm squeeze of your waist (so tight it was impossible that no one else had noticed) as he moved behind you, pressing his chest against your spine.

You froze, and you were pretty sure he smirked.

Matter-of-factly, he flicked his index finger twice at the label "Ultra Oxi", before winking over his shoulder. "Make good choices, alright? You've been on a roll recently."

Fuck. Fuck. He'd remembered to taunt you, with your apparently Nate-Jacobs-hating cousin right there.

You moved back to Rue, a couple aisles over, your eyes glazed over.

Did you just get... groped? The aisles were small, maybe he really did need to hold you to move past you?

"I'm wingin' it.", you mutter.

She snorted. "Brave. But I was serious, that guy? He's a headcase." She nodded over to Nate again, who was across the store at the counter, reaching into his pocket to produce an ID from his wallet, presumably.

She said it like it's gossip, common sense, and a Pentagon-level secret all at the same time, and you're not sure how she's managing to achieve that.

"Why?"

"Where do I fucking start? He strangled his girlfriend."

"He fucking what?!"

The detergent nearly dropped from your hand, and she got a funny look on her face, like you were doing a little too much. "Yeah. Maddy Perez. I mean, she's fine, and the case was dropped 'cause someone else confessed, and there was an eyewitness, but h—"

"Rue!", you hissed. "Fuck, that's some mad unreliable storytelling, you know that? Fuck, I thought he did it."

"He did! He got someone to cover up for him, a whole fuckin' alibi, and shit.", she shrugged, giving the Chosen Baking Powder a triumphant, confirmatory tap. There was more she wasn't saying, and you were gonna prod it out of her.

"If the police accepted it, it's probably not without investigation.", you tried, but she just scoffed.

"He catfished my friend."

Uh-oh. It really must be bad if he got Rue to mention Train-Girl.

Sometimes, you wondered whether she was on more than just weed.

You thought this, then mentally shook it off, like... this was Rue you were talking about. Why would she even fucking lie to you?

She sniffed. "And then he blackmailed Jules with the nudes she sent him to testify as an eyewitness."

Jules? Oh, Jules. Train-Girl, aka, Jules.

"He's a fucking plague. I swear, I should get fucking gun and just go apeshit on his psycho ass."

'That won't bring Jules back', you don't say.

"Violent.", you remarked.

"Yeah, he is."

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TWO DAYS LATER.

"Where the fuck were you, Rue?! You scared me half to fucking death!"

"I was at... the mall.", she groans from the passenger seat. You slap her face to bring her back a couple times, but it doesn't seem like it's fent that she's on. Thankfully.

"The mall or behind it with the trapper-junkies?", you mutter, slamming your hand down on the horn and flipping the guy off as you passed by him. "Stopping in the middle of the fucking road?! Are you fucking brainless?!"

Rue giggles from next to you and you're sure you're two seconds away from an aneurysm. "What's so fucking funny, Rue?! You're high on god-knows-what! You know how fucking dangerous that is?!"

"Who keeps texting you? It's like ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-"

You rap your fingers along the steering wheel. "Focus, Rue, fuck! How long does it take to wear off?"

"Like... five hours."

"FIVE HOURS?! We have lunch with our family, Rue, fuck! What are you gonna do?"

She continues giggling.

"Fuck, okay, uh...", you mumble, pressing a couple buttons on the car screen.

"Hello?"

"Lexi, I need you to do me a huge favour. Uh... can you man the phones at your place? If my aunt calls just say we're at lunch with you?"

"Uh, is everything o—"

"Yeah, yeah, just— please just do it, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay."

"Thanks."

You shut the phone off before glaring at her, still giggling next to you. "You fucking happy? Everyone doing your fucking dirty work to cover for your ass?!"

"Please, this is just you relapsing on your stupid I'm-the-nice-sweet-cousin bullshit! You probably hope I flatline so you have a sob story to tell."

"What? I do care, Rue!"

"I thought you grew out of your obsessed-with-me-all-the-fucking-time-phase from when you were six! I don't fucking like you, and really, neither do Mom or Gia! They just need a babysitter for me! Fuck, you can't be related to people without them clinging onto you!"

You glare at her. Oh, fuck her.

"You mean that? Or are you just high?"

"High words are sober thoughts, lil' sis. Gimme a fucking break."

Silence.

"Alright, get the fuck out. Get the fuck out. Go call your fucking sponsor. Go."

"You're such a baby!"

You scoff, driving away for a moment before you actually called Ali. You're not that cruel. "Hello, um, Rue's—"

"Yeah, I know. I saw. I was driving by. I got her, she's in my car right now."

"Thank you."

You groan, your forehead on the steering wheel. You really shouldn't be this sensitive, the world will eat you up alive, but when someone you look up to— fuck! She was right, who the fuck keeps texting you?

Picking up your phone, you squint to look at whatever fucking notifications you were receiving, that were apparently life threatening, seeing their frequency.

Nate.

🔗?

You're about to - about to - just block him and throw your phone out the car with how frustrated you are, but then an evil thought permeates through your brain.

Evil, and petty.

Rue thinks you're constantly seeking her approval? Clinging onto her?

Oh, you'll be clinging onto her worst enemy's dick, alright.

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The ding comes as Nate pants in your ear for what's the third time in this whole week, you might have a serious problem with how far you take your pettiness, but that's a conversation for another time , and his arm immediately shoots out to pin your wrist to the bed, his other hand's grip faltering on your calf as it slips from his hip. "No, no. Don't even think about it.", he grumbles, trying to shut you up with speed instead of words.

A follow-up ding.

"It could be Rue.", you reason, and he shakes his head, covering your mouth as he keeps going.

"Come on, Nate.", you mumble out from beneath his palm.

He huffs, but finally relents, continuing his kissing at your shoulder. "Rue's such a fucking cockblock, I swear.", he grumbles against your skin, among other things, most of which you don't hear thanks to your focus on your screen.

Yo

Pick up

It's about Rue

Unknown number.

"Hey, hey— one sec, man, I need to make a phone call."

"Are you fucking kidding me?", he scoffs, rolling off you to let you sit up and bunch the covers over your chest with one hand as you type out a 'K'.

A phone call almost instantaneously.

You pick up immediately, pressing the phone desperately to your ear. "Hello?"

"Yo, uh, I'm Fezco, you don't know me. Look, your cousin's been — I don't even know where, but she's coming here in about a half hour, and you need to come pick her up right now, alright? I'm not shitting you."

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know, man, she just told me she's on her way, I don't— I don't know. You're her emergency number, I think? She said sm'n like that to me a couple weeks ago."

"Alright, can you text me the address?"

"Yeah. Hey, man, look, half an hour, alright? You come earlier, she'll figure out something's off and bolt."

"Yeah, I know. Thank you."

The call ends, and your hands drop your phone to your lap, in favor of pressing the heels of your palms onto your eyes. "Fuckfuckfuck.", you mumble.

"What? Yo, hey, what happened? She okay?"

You flop back onto the bed with a slight thud, burying your face in your hands as you shook your head. "She snuck out. I thought she was home. Some guy just called me to come pick her up, but he doesn't even know where she's coming from."

You had to go?! Leaving him here with a fucking semi? Oh, Rue was fucking up his life even when she didn't know it. Fuck.

"But wait! Wait, but you're going?"

You scoff, reaching for your shirt to yank over your bra, gesturing at him for the rest of your clothes. He almost looks like he's going to withhold it, but by some stroke of luck, he hands it over to you.

"You're going to an address sent to you by some guy you don't know, because he says your cousin might be there? Ted Bundy woulda loved your ass."

See, what had started as a drunk hookup to a sort of poetic justice type thing against Rue ended with him genuinely liking your company. And that's what scared him. Because everytime he got close with a girl? Bam. Brainwashed to hate him. Like, what was up with that?

Thankfully, though, although it was evident Rue'd said some shit to you that day in the grocery store, you didn't seem to - at least to his knowledge - have taken that to heart. So... yay?

"If I go missing, you know some Fezco guy is the reason.", you snort, as you tug on your socks.

"Fezco? Oh. Oh, he's legit, don't worry." He inhales, rubbing a hand over his face for a minute before nodding. "He's a dealer."

"Of course he is."

════════════════════════════════════════════

30th of December.

"You—", he cuts himself off with a scoff of incredulity, cocking his head and furrowing his brows at you in such a cartoonish way, you almost laugh. He stops running his knuckles down your elbow for a moment, shaking his head. "What the fuck do you mean you won't be here for New Year's?"

"I just won't. I have school, don't I? Gotta get back home? And of course, Times Square New Year's is the best."

"You gonna tell me what happened? Is she good?"

"Like you care if she's good. You two hate each other."

"Mm.", he hums, gnawing on his lower lip, before kissing your wrist. "You guys are close, huh?"

"Oh, fuck off."

He grins. He knew you'd be onto him in a flash.

Laughing, he tugs you closer, into his chest. "Opening up to me isn't going to magically make us 'a thing', if that's what you're worried about. In fact, this is like you venting to a wall with ears. And a big dick. I'll throw in a 'mm, that sucks' every two minutes, too, if you want."

You chuckle tiredly, and he nudges your shoulder. "Come on."

"I just, y'know, she's not sober. Not even nearly, and I feel like a cunt for not telling Aunt Leslie, but it's just gonna cause a blow-up, and I don't wan—"

"You don't wanna cause a rift."

"Exactly! And I also, like, looked up to her a ton or whatever, growing up, and um... she's, like. She doesn't like me even a quarter as much as I like her, and it feels like we're not..."

"Not what?"

"Like, not even familly. Like I'm a personal assistant or, like, an afterthought, basically."

He sighs, moving some hair off your shoulder so he could nuzzle his nose into it. "So what are you going to do?"

"Nothing. Keep fucking her mortal enemy, I guess."

"Good choice."

A pause.

"Rue's a nice girl.", he says.

He's actively formulating a response to the fucking allegations Rue told you about him, and he figures he should play it how she'd least expect it. Instead of fuelling your annoyance at her and using it to his advantage (predictable and boring) , make himself seem like the bigger person. "She just... gets carried away sometimes."

"What?"

"Like, with what she said to you. About me.", he mutters, kissing up your cheek.

"You didn't strangle your girlfriend?"

"No. And there's police records to prove it. The guy turned himself in."

"Yeah, she said you blackmailed her friend Jules—"

"Oh, fuck. Jules? Look, again... we don't know each other that well, but she seems... she's a liar, alright? She likes to play the victim, and maybe there's a psychological reason for that, I dunno."

Well, fair, you reckon. That couldn't be too far from the truth, because this bitch had told Rue she'd loved her and she'd be there for her, then taken off in a train and left her to relapse.

He sees you mulling this over. Fucking score. Gently turning you to face him, he raises a brow. "What?"

"She said you catfished Jules and used her nudes to blackmail her into being an eyewitness."

He tries his best to scoff at that and maintain a hurt expression on his face, and he hopes he hasn't overdone it. "I was dating my ex, Maddy the whole time that was even supposedly "happening ". I had no dating apps, and you can check my phone, my drawers, and even my brain. I've never catfished anyone."

Technically, that's true. Catfishing implies that he used a face that wasn't his, or described himself different to what he actually was. He technically didn't show a face and didn't do the latter, either.

"It's all bullshit?"

"Yeah. Jules is... she's troubled. Y'know? First time I met her, she tried to cut me with a kitchen knife, then cut herself and stormed off. I don't even fucking know why."

"She what?!"

He smiles, sadly. "Yeah. Weird, right? I asked her who she was, because this party was my best friend's, and we're not going to have randos come in and fuck up his home. And she just went batshit."

He likes how this is going. He looks like the bigger person, and Jules gets shit on. "And Rue just trusts too easily. So, when Jules found her, I guess... she found someone willing to listen to her bullshit."

Rage consumes you. Fuck Train-Girl.

"I like you. You're willing to listen to both sides of the story. It's rare."

That's his final play. Make you look like the bigger person, too. So you're both 'bigger people' and you subconsciously look at the two of you as a team, and— fuck, he was so happy right now.

"What did Fezco say about me?"

You raise an incredulous brow. "Nothing. Wh— do you have beef with everyone?"

He laughs at that, his cheek resting on your shoulder, now. "Nah, nah, I got no beef. I'm a Nobel Peace prize candidate, on god."

You roll your eyes, aimlessly scrolling on your phone. He watches your feed roll by. More sunsets. More memes.

"We should date." It's not even a statement, let alone a question. It's a declaration, and it unnerves you. "I'm serious. I like you, genuinely. We're similar. The sex is phenomenal."

"And plus, it's fate. Right?" He's scrolling on your phone for you, now, chin in the crook of your neck as your relatively lame social media feed runs past his eyes.

"Listen, if you want a scholarship, you can just ask, I can give my Dad your tapes—"

"Oh, please, I could get into that college with my grades alone. I'm just saying. We're compatible. People fuck us over and we fuck them over back.", he retorts, moving to your camera roll and leaving little to no room for protest, with the way he's firing these words at you.

He's satisfied, relieved, even, with the contents of your camera roll. Flowers and sunsets and you and your family, some girlfriends, no nudes. Not bad.

"How do you figure?", you ask, turning to frown at him to show him how fucking peeved this invasion of privacy made you, but he pays you no mind, as he grabs your jaw, thumb navigating to the camera app.

"We're both technically fucking to get back at Rue."

He kisses your cheek and takes a photo.

"Yeah, but— hey, whoa."

"Would you angry-fuck me if I just...?", he muses, holding your phone out of reach as he makes a show of hovering his thumb dangerously close to Rue's contact.

"No! Nate, I'm not fucking with you! Stop!"

He just chuckles as he shakes his head, safely navigating to his own contact before pressing send.

Fuck. He sure knew how to terrify people to their fucking bones.

"Date me.", he has the audacity to suggest.

"You're an asshole."

"Date me anyway."

"Are you crazy?"

"Hey, you fucked me. Why not make it a regular thing? Exclusive, too, if you behave.", he teases.

You snort. "You're a trip."

"Is that a yes?"

"No, fuck you."

"Oh, come on. Date me, why not? Is it the long-distance? Is it the football player / daughter of a college scout thing? 'Cause, as I said, I don't care about that second-rate college. No offence."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna—"

"No? You're not gonna date me?", he questions, tilting his head almost pitifully.

"I just... I don't think I'm at the right... like, place for it." Okay, he was starting to freak you out just a little bit.

"Mm." It was an 'mm' of derision. Like he didn't quite believe you, or worse. Like he believed you, but it wasn't satisfactory enough for him. Disappointing. Not emotional enough. Not enough of a reason.

"What?"

He raises a brow, as if giving you a chance to reconsider. "You sure?"

"That I'm not at the right place for a relationship- yeah, I am." Alright, he sounded scary now, not freaky. What the fuck was he...?

He shakes his head, sighing. "God.", he tuts, holding you tighter against his chest. You don't notice this at first, but one of his arms is enough to restrict both of yours. And then, he's scrolling his phone, periodically checking to see that your gaze was following his movements.

"This is our chat.", he informs, like you don't have fucking eyes. "And this is my favourite picture of us."

"Favourite and only."

"Yeah.", he nods, his lips now glued to your temple, forceful enough to slightly push at your head a little. "Will you date me?"

"I just told you I can't really— you okay, man? You— I'm not trying to make you mad."

"I'm not mad, I'm kissing you, how can I be mad?"

Okay, yeah, that tracks. You nod.

The picture's downloaded. He sprints over to his camera roll to check that it is. And then, he moves to SMS. And there's only one person you can think of that's blocked him everywhere but SMS.

And then, you're struggling to move from his grasp, but his hand just presses your arms further into your own chest as he sends it.

"NO! What the FUCK?!"

He grins as your phone immediately dings with about twenty fucking notifications. "It could be Rue.", he parrots, the exact same tone as when you'd said it before the whole Fezco ordeal.

He's a fucking bastard. Of course it's fucking Rue.

"How are you ever gonna look Rue in the eye again?", he asks with mock concern, and it's a valid question.

How were you gonna look her in the eye again?

[attractthecrows]

man i cannot stop thinking about Revallen finding the bones of his father. cannot fathom why the inquisition would be in coastal Nevarra. but it would be SUCH a gut punch not only for Revallen but also Dorian (the bones of a father that gave his life for his son(isn't that what a father should be?)) and the other companions to a certain extent (you've never seen the Inquisitor this haunted)

I see Revallen recognizing a landmark and just freezing. he doesn't move a muscle for like a solid minute, just staring at [whatever]. the companions are confused and concerned, if Cole is there he starts wigging out. someone asks what's wrong and instead of answering, Revallen takes off in a new direction, leaving the companions to catch up. he's practically barreling through the vegetation, completely ignoring the cries of slow down and Amatus!

Eventually they catch up to him, because he's stopped at the base of a massive, gnarled tree. Hell, it's not even one tree, it's a tangle of several different ones, roots embedded into what looks like a collapsed, rocky hillside. Some of the roots are blackened and sick, dark tendrils reaching up the trunks of the trees twisted together like thread. It's absolutely massive, and Revallen is standing at the base of the rooted stones, staring up towards the canopy. His eyes are hollow, haunted. when they ask him again what's wrong he turns his head to look at them for just a moment. then, wordlessly, he reaches out his hand, and places it on one of the thicker taproots tangled in the stone.

for a long, tense moment, nothing happens. then the taproot starts to move. a few pebbles fall. smaller, thinner wisps of root begin to smoke, resisting Revallen's mana, and then withdraw. Slowly, haltingly, the roots release their grip on the stones, revealing not a hillside but a collapsed cave entrance. Revallen pulls down one of the stones, and the rest follow, lacking the tension to hold them in place. then he steps into the cave.

there are signs of an old fight. darkspawn weapons and armor, and their blighted bones. against one of the cave walls is a semicircle of clear ground, roots reaching towards a skeleton in the center, clad in rotting Keeper's robes.

Revallen heads straight for the skeleton. He kneels next to it, and the companions enter the cave to his whispered elvish prayers.

They hang back, uneasy. One of them tentatively asks what happened here. Revallen reaches forward and picks up the skull from where it had fallen off the neck, holding it in both hands to peer into its empty sockets.

"During the Blight," he says quietly, "Keeper Dirennen made his last stand here. Darkspawn were starting to appear from this cave, from a single connection to the Deep Roads. Dirennen baited them, and when they were focused on him, he collapsed the entrance and sealed it. He was a gifted adahl'eralan - that tree outside was his doing. He gave his life to protect his clan."

"How do you know this?"

"I watched it happen." He shifts the skull to one hand to count on his fingers. "I was... 16 at the time. The last thing he did before this stand was carve my vallaslin."

"Your vallaslin? He was your Keeper?"

"No," Revallen stands, still holding the skull as if it were made of spun glass. "He was my father."

Then he turns and exits the cave.

do they follow? I mean, they must - he's the Inquisitor. but this is so sudden, so private. Dorian, at least, follows without question. he's never seen Revallen like this, and it worries him.

outside, Revallen is digging a hole at the base of the twisted tree, clawing through the dirt with his bare hands. His father's skull is set beside him on one of the taproots, watching the proceedings with its skeletal grin.

Dorian kneels beside him and places a gentle hand on his back. Revallen starts a little, but relaxes when he sees who it is. "Are you all right, Amatus?"

"Yes," Revallen says automatically, "no. I don't know. I never expected to set foot here again." He sits back, his filthy hands in his lap, and stares at the skull for a long, heavy moment. Then he lifts it tenderly off of the root and sets it in the hole, facing the sky.

"Is there anything we should do for him?" Dorian asks quietly.

Revallen sighs, rubbing an eye with the back of his hand. "Normally, we bury our dead with oaken staff and a branch of cedar, to help them on their journey and keep away Fear and Deceit. Then we plant a tree over their grave. But I have neither staff nor cedar branch, so this will have to do."

He scoops a handful of dirt into the makeshift grave. Dorian nods and does the same, and together, the pair of them bury the skull of Revallen's father.

"Hahren na melana sahlin," Revallen murmurs, pushing his fingers into the loose dirt, holding a seed. "Emma ir abelas. Souver'inan isala hamin, vhenan him dor'felas. In din'an na revas. Vir sulahn'nehn, vir dirthera. Vir samahl la numin. Vir lath sa'vunin."

A pulse of mana flows from Revallen's fingers into the seed, which sprouts, pushing up through the loose soil and growing rapidly to the size of a ten-year-old tree.

"Now that is an impressive bit of magic, if I do say so."

Revallen stands, brushing the dirt off his knees. "I'm not as good as my father was."

"He sounds like quite the man." Dorian looks up at the twisted column of trees, towering over the silver birch Revallen just sprouted. "What was that you called him earlier? Adahl..."

"Adahl'eralan."

"What does that mean?"

Revallen considers his answer as he digs some of the dirt from beneath his fingernails. "I think it'd be 'xylomancer', mage of trees. He could make the trees walk. In places where the Veil is thin, he could even make them sing."

"That's incredible. I wish I could have met him."

Revallen looks at him, then reaches out to stroke his cheek with the back of his finger. "I think he would have liked you," he says with a gentle smile.

[biblically-accurate-dca]

super disorganized sketch page because i do what i want

[boarloved-art]

i LOVEEEE idol aus so bad because none of these fucking characters would be caught dead doing any of this shit. your blorbo is NOT doing aegyo on stage for a paycheck! your blorbo is NOT singing and dancing!

[necrotic-nephilim]

Hey there, are you ok?

hey! thank you for checking up on me, this was really sweet!

i SWEAR i did not die. i just got a bit busy doing SladeRobin Week (which i will finish so help me god-) as well as things in my real life. i'm still trying to find the balance of like. fandom creation and working. i am very lucky to have the living situation that i do rn, but it is the sort of schedule where i do have to be ready to watch a baby at really any given point so. it's a tricky balance right now, but i'm going to be active here again! maybe not as many asks answered a day as before, but i want to try to answer like, a few a day and whatnot.

i also think i got briefly overwhelmed, in that i got more asks faster than i answered them. which is the opposite of a problem and something i'm very lucky for! but it did make it difficult for me to keep up and know what to answer next. (this is *not* a discouragement to sending asks! i love them all and pls send as many as you want! i just am a little slow sometimes so i appreciate the patience! <3)

so! i'm back and i'm good, ty for asking! we are back to the regularly scheduled programming <3

[journal-three]

I'm getting hit in the nostalgia but the Jaffa Factory 2 series feels just like watching YogLabs, or SOI, or Tekkit, or any of the other lore-driven Yogscast Minecraft series and I couldn't be happier about it. It's amazing that they haven't lost their spark after all this time.

I have to imagine some of it comes from them bringing old fans onboard bc it feels just like the old stuff without feeling like it's trying to be like the old stuff.

[mcytegg]

man can mapicc stream or smt i am like so close to crashing out for no reason LOL

[josephtrohman]

i was so overcome with emotion today i cried my eyes out in a parking lot before hitting the highway, but not even because i feel sad…like im sure the sadness will hit me later that it’s over and 2ourdust in general is Over, but that was probably the happiest cry i’ve ever had in my fucking life about how fall out boy even remembered what somerset went through and CARED enough to make it up to us by giving us the most insane best show fucking ever last night ☹️❤️❤️❤️❤️ fall out boy forever and ever and ever and ever and ever if you even care

[asyipyip]

hey gang? hey gang? this was the craziest build ive ever played in my life

[an-urgent-appeal]

monitoring by deco*27 could be a soldierspy song if you just give me 12 hours and 5 cans of monster to explain

[maounteighn]

adding to "he would not fucking say that" by extending it to "his therapy would not fucking work like that"

[cosmogyros]

.

[bonestrouslingbones]

now realizing that i haven't seen an edgepuff fic any longer than a oneshot since fucking. 2022. and not even a oneshot since 2023. god.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[alwayscobrakai]

THIS SHOW IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS

[coolspacequips]

I gotta give black sails it's flowers for having multiple bisexual poly relationships, mmf AND ffm at that lol

The first was such a delightful and unexpected twist that really puts a new light onto the entire thesis of the show, and then the second was literally one of my fav dynamics in the entire series, they were my favs and all got together??? Usually this only happens in indulgent fic, but not this time!!

(also something high-key funny (in a sad way) that it kinda starts as 'I'm so co-dependant I need you to hold my hand while I hook up with someone else that I was dubiously cheating on u with 🥺' and then they became a power throuple)