Aldysfool - ❝ ᴛᴏ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ 𝓯𝓸𝓸𝓵,

pvlmer​:

as much as jason hates to admit it, he needs this. he doesn’t want to admit that he was freaked out by the events at the masque. because that would be admitting that he has a reason to be scared. and he can’t let that happen. he can’t let people know that he had anything to do with orson’s death. least of all nate. nate was one of the only people he felt like actually believed in him and he didn’t want his brother to believe the horrible truth about him, that he was an accomplice to murder. 

jason nods as his brother relays his stressful evening. he can definitely sympathize, considering they were all accused of murdering orson. but jason knew that nate wasn’t involved in the murder, he was the perfect one. and besides, he couldn’t picture his bright and shining brother hurting anyone intentionally. jason used to think he wouldn’t hurt others intentionally either, until that night. at the mention of happy pills, jason can’t help but instinctively put his hand on nate’s shoulder. he’s not really sure what he’s trying to convey. maybe that he’s there, even if it sometimes feels like he isn’t. jason feels another pang of guilt when he realizes how scared nate must’ve been not getting an answer from him. “right, sorry about that, i put my phone on silent so i could think,” jason replies with a grimace and an ‘ i’m your brother and you love me so forgive me ’ face. 

“did someone say grilled cheese?” jason asked, with a slight smile. despite the terrible events of the night and the sheer amount of food he had eaten to avoid talking to people, jason would kill for a grilled cheese right now. “that sounds like the perfect meal to take the edge off what happened tonight. wanna postmates and hang in here?”

before jason can finish his question about nate hanging out with him, he’s already ducked past him and entered the room. nate hates feeling like this — when even he can’t laugh the pain away, but he finds some sort of peace when he’s with jason. sure, their relationship wasn’t the best, and nate hated that they were obviously keeping secrets from each other  — but they were brothers. and for every bad memory, there were two good ones in its place. at least, that’s how nate saw it. 

“well i was hoping you’d offer to go with me to the kitchen and whip up some homemade cheezies, but honestly, spending too much money on postmates sounds like a much better idea. i can send you the money, just get me anything greasy and with a stupid amount of calories on top. i trust you.” nate takes off his jacket and throws it over the back of a chair while taking in the suite jason and mathias share. he doesn’t visit often, he realizes. nate finds a seat to plop down in and spread out, the ache in his ankle dull enough to ignore. even though he tries to keep things somewhat light, nate knows he can’t bullshit with jason for much longer. he runs through a gamut of emotions — sadness, anger, confusion — and none of it seems to ever make sense of what he discovered that day with the person standing in front of him. the only brother he’s ever known. his first best friend. his first confidant. it’s heartbreaking to think jason could ever be responsible for  — 

“so. you said you needed time to think, right? ....what about? i mean, if it’s about ice caps melting in the Artic, i’m right there with you, buddy.”

texts | palmer bros.

jason: for once i'm actually feeling kind of okay about my casting

jason: what about you? are you excited to play a witch?

nate: whew, i'm glad u feel that way!

nate: i was def ready to raise hell if you weren't cool w/ it. it's our last show, y'know? we should get what we DESERVE. but then again, i look at ppl like mathias & josie and i'm like .....yikes

nate: um HELL YEAH i am!! a crone who casts spells & cackles at people's misfortunes is in my top 5 other lives i'd like to live. you know this

nate’s social media  — twitter

believe it or not, nate’s got a pretty consistent thing going with twitter. his first love, nate spends a good amount of time retweeting memes, news articles, and hot takes on pop culture. while he isn’t really sure where all his followers came from, people seem to be having a good time and playing nice in the comments. (even if a few thousand of them are bots.) there’s something about spewing dumb shit in one moment and truth in the next that nate really connects with. if his classmates finally agree to that orgy, he realllllllllly hopes they’ll let him live tweet the whole thing. that should definitely get him 100k by graduation.

what's your dream role?

“fuck me, this is a hard one. let’s keep this strictly shakespeare, ‘cause i could riff all day on contemporary theatre and how much tragicomedies speak to me on a spiritual level. so yeah, the dream role would have to go to everybody’s super problematic fave, iago. he’s an enigma of a character - with unpredictable emotions, motives, tactics, and some of the best soliloquys willy ever wrote. he’s fucked up in so many ways, and i wanna sink my teeth into him and take him on. i’ve been craving a puzzle.”

ofhelens​:

Matching his smile with one of her own, Helen laughs gently. “Hell, for sure. I have a feeling that Abigail Williams would have fit snugly in one of Shakespeare’s plays.” Probably played by Zahra. If Orson had his way. If Heidi was casting - who knew? The uncertainty of Alderidge, which had always been such a constant, made her anxious. Nudging gently into him, she nodded in thanks. “I don’t deserve you.”  She wasn’t sure any of them deserved Nate. Had she followed that thought through to its completion, she might have felt guilt that they were the one forced to witness her witchcraft…but as it was, she dropped it; distracted by the mention of Jonah. “No?” Puzzled, she knotted her eyebrows. “Did he…did he do something?”

it was one thing to banter with helen about heidi or the play, but then just like that, nate decides to switch up the conversation on her - a part of him wondered if it was the right time. but when would this opportunity come up again? he raises an eyebrow for a moment at helen’s response  - did jonah do something? well, damn. it’s not like it’s any of his business, but in nate’s experience, that kind of question only came from someone who, even in the slightest way, had already assumed he was guilty. it was a nicer way of saying ‘what did you do?’ and - shit, now he’s definitely reading too much into it. nate shakes his head, “nah, he didn’t do anything. it’s just the week of auditions he had a really...rough morning, and i might’ve cried and tried stuffing his face with waffles, and i was just curious if you had heard from him. that’s all.” nate shrugs and then tries to offer helen another smile to diffuse any of her worries. “even though we live together, i feel like we’ve been like two ships passing in the night.”

bxstvrd​:

Jonah sometimes wished he’d just… left Nate there. It was a cruel thought, an intrusive one, and he could never manage to take himself to the end of that thought exercise, always snapping himself back to the reality where he’d sat with his classmate, cup of water in hand, staying the night until he was sure, sure that Nate would be okay. To this day, he had no idea why he’d done that. No idea where that kindness had come from within him. In the time since, he had decided, with a bitter sort of finality, it must have been a fluke. There was nothing else he could point to concretely that proved otherwise.

“Then let me ask a different question,” he said, finally meeting Nate’s gaze and leveling him with a sharp stare. “What’s in this for you?”

He took a deep breath, flicking his eyes back down, and he began picking at the threads of his duvet as he spoke. “People don’t just… do nice things. Not in my experience anyways. I helped you because I didn’t want to have to contend with the guilt of what could have happened if I didn’t. Not because I care. Not because I’m a good person. Probably because I’m a categorically bad person who cannot handle yet more evidence of that thrown back into my face. So, on top of being an ass, I guess I’m also a coward.”

And then, if only to make sure that Nate wasn’t going to have him committed, he added, “This happens before every audition. It’s normal. I promise.” Or at least, as normal as the crushing weight of his own depression, sitting on his chest like a ten ton gorilla, could be.

His stomach grumbled. Reluctantly, he took the banana, peeling it from the butt end and breaking off a chunk before popping it into his mouth.

nate thinks for a moment, because jonah asks him a good question, and he just doesn’t know if what immediately comes to mind is the right answer. he wants to go back and forth with jonah about how there are people in the world who just want to help. how some people actually accept their faults head-on and put in the work to become better versions of themselves. how some people are just good. end of story. but the more nate sits here and listens to jonah, the more he thinks none of that would matter. especially coming from him. so nate finishes his waffle and reaches for the bottle of OJ.

“y’know, i don’t think anybody’s a good person. i feel like most people are just trying their best not to fuck things up on a daily basis. and depending on the day, hour to hour, we’re lucky to get by.” nate shrugs.

“and i used to feel like you do. all the time. and spoiler alert, no amount of party drugs or vodka could help chase those thoughts away; in fact, they might’ve induced an episode or two. or three,” nate sits in the memories for a second, although they’re uncomfortable to him now; they feel a lifetime away. “but i let the people who were in my corner fight for me. take care of me. ...they saved my life.” nate takes a deep breath, because it’s hard to think about the person he used to be. the person he still is. the person he wants to be.

and now, looking at jonah, nate can’t help but wonder if there’s some alternate universe where they’ve switched places. because if nate didn’t have his parents or even jason, he’s sure he would be in a similiar position to jonah. and it scares him to think he wouldn’t be strong enough to last this long. but then he imagines a silly, happy jonah and it’s weird enough that he chooses to focus on that instead. nate grins.

“but you’re right. we’re not close. not even friends yet. .......and we won’t ever be, if you keep eating bananas like that. it’s a phallic fruit, but we’re not in the seventh grade, jonah. embrace the phallus and eat it like a fuckin’ normal person, or i’m never eating breakfast with you again.” 

📱

What ringtone my muse has set for yours:

this shit is bananas, b-a-n-a-n-a-s.

What contact photo my muse has set for yours:

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

nate loves how mads texts. never a dull moment, and he appreciates that.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

pretty soon unless he’s sleep. if he’s getting a text from mads, they’re 99% talking shit, 1% making plans to talk shit. and nate is a messy bitch who lives for drama.

How often our muses text:

i’d say every few days or so  — probably in bursts? like, tons of texting on wednesday and then not another burst until saturday. but that’s because nate calls.

How often our muses call:

often! nate doesn’t think texts truly encapsulate mads’ voice. so he facetimes her, especially if she hates it.

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

nah, but then he forgets to call her back. every. single. time.

Last text sent from my muse to yours:

[ sent, 10:39 p.m. ] : wanna get fucked uuuuuuup tonight???

[ sent, 10:42 p.m. ] : or u could keep me company while i make some edibles. i’ve got a fancy brownie mix & a lot of shit to get off my chest.

texts | palmer bros.

nate: j

nate: jasonnnnnnnnn

nate: how ya feelin, champ?