Bxstvrd​:

oofscenestlr​:

one thing that’s held through the past few years of dealing with nat is that he somehow always manages to make it about him. she had first hand experience, the constant days and nights when orson would pair them together was like a thorn in her side. getting through scenes was tough, but she tried to stay professional about it. so what if she was a try-hard? she was doing more than half the people here anyway.

“i’m not even gonna try and respond to that fucked up theory. just some advice for you - maybe get your head out of your ass and realize the world isn’t in love with you. in fact, the world has a lot more things going on than falling to their knees to worship you.” she’s bitter, it’s true. and maybe this was a losing fight, but she had to hold her own. she was a perfectionist, that much is true, and if nate couldn’t see there was anything to gain from that, it was lost on him. but trying so hard to impress orson’s ghost? grace had no respect for orson anymore. “have you considered i work so hard to get where i am for myself? and not for the fake validation of some ghost busy haunting our school and the real murderer?”

giving somebody shit for actually caring about something, especially their craft, is the lowest hanging fruit and while nate knows that, it doesn’t stop him from standing behind his words. because yeah, while grace’s work ethic was something fierce, she had generally not been a nice person from the moment nate met her. and in the wake of orson’s death, she still didn’t seem to get it. and maybe she never would. “save me the fucking diatribe about how you’re so different from the rest of us and how much you’ve sacrificed to get here. ‘cause if you wanna compare notes, we could be here all night,” nate takes another long inhale of the joint and closes his eyes.

for a moment he thinks he can feel it — the warmth of this particular strain — but it doesn’t last long. clearly whatever he had going on right now was not going to be solved with just one smoke. 

it’s a small revelation that he chooses not to focus on, so nate turns back to grace instead. “look, did you come outside to just yell at me about petty shit or did you wanna smoke and try to chill the fuck out for once? i mean, aren’t you tired of all this fighting? i know i am. i’m fucking tired, grace.” nate pushes himself off of the railing he was leaning up against and extends the joint to her. things were changing around here — and while drugs weren’t going to fix any of their issues, nate didn’t have it in him to keep throwing insults back and forth. not tonight, at least.

Things I am always down for no questions asked:

-Roadtrips

-Campfires

-Breakfast for dinner

-Hot coffee and good conversation

-Book shopping

-Naps 

ofmadsle​:

— ✶ 

Mads couldn’t help her laughter even if she tried, and he’s right. It paints a pretty picture. She could see Julian going in with it, and the small chaos the three of them could make together. “Imagine how cursed the play actually would be with us. Should we create a conspiracy theory?” She grins, though she was sure there was plenty of that going on. She was just as excited as him. But, she knew she should at least be honest. A witch wouldn’t be a bad role, she enjoyed them as well. Alas, the heart knew what it want, so she may have to break Nate’s just a bit.

“You know, while I can save the ass kicking for a different time, I was actually thinking of Lady Macbeth. Can you picture it? Sexy murder queen in all her 5′3 glory?” She laughs, because of course she has to make light of it to ease her anxiety surrounding such a decision. “Though, I think we should be the witches anyways. Halloween’s passed but it would be fun. Do you think I could grow a beard in time? I bet mine would be magnificent.” 

“ugh, well you know how i feel about lady ‘beth. and as one of your closest BFFs, while i’m selfishly thinking about all the trouble we’d be blamed for...i’m also super happy for you and will be your biggest cheerleader in going after, arguably, one of willy’s most complex female characters. which isn’t saying much, but y’know.” nate couldn’t help but grin at her, proud of mads going for the gold. what did she have to lose? what did any of them have to lose anymore? “mads le as lady macbeth. sounds about right. i mean, i can totally believe you’d conspire to kill a man.” that joke kinda hits different, since a man has actually died, but nate decides not to dwell on it. but he looks up, and they’re just outside the refectory, near where they were a few nights ago. he glances in mads’ direction.

“but you know what? let’s fuckin’ do it. i’m always down to dress up like a witch on any given day for absolutely no reason at all.” nate smiles, and makes a mental note to go snooping through the costume & makeup dept. later to see if he could get his hands on some beards. “not that i don’t already have an idea, but what made you go for lady m? i feel like a lot of people — gender be damned — might be gunning for that part. hell, the third years might try to show us up. it is the last show,” and the moment nate says it, something clicks. it’s their last production together as a cohort. and without orson. something about it feels super ominous, especially in the wake of the events from the masque ball, but he hopes it’s just his nerves.

do u are have stupid?

hell yeah brother!

 harryzhangs​:

“badass is one word for it,” harry grins. she just can’t get used to the idea that half the school, maybe more, considers all of them to be murderers. as hilarious as it would be to watch josie throw a tantrum and get kicked out of the show, as nate suggested, everyone’s usual antics feel rather tainted by that fact. harry doesn’t know how nate does it, putting on a joking front like this when he was the one to find orson laying there, bled-out and lifeless. he’s got to be a far better actor than her, just for that. “hopefully she’s just really into the irony of it, and not playing some kind of sick joke on us. that would put a serious damper the inevitable rehearsal storm-outs from… josie, you said? my money’s on mathias first.”

nate laughs as he considers the idea that heidi would be capable of putting the fourth years through a psychological thriller like macbeth only to get them busted for actual murder when it was all said and done. “nah, heidi doesn’t seem like the type to put that much effort into a long, convoluted plan like that. ...oh shit, unless she was orson’s other lover and this is her revenge....! dun dun dun!” nate laughs and shakes his head, trying his best to keep a light disposition about the possibility of what any of them could be facing. was there any other choice? after a moment, nate’s mind drifts back to the whole ‘co-conspirators’ angle, and he looks over at harry. he wonders about how much she knows, but more importantly, how much she’s willing to share. “but hey, you’re easily one of the smartest people in this bunch. ...i wanna know what you really think.” nate looks around to make sure no one else might be around, “it’s still wild to even say out loud, but there can’t be an actual murderer among us, right?”

bxstvrd​:

Jonah’s eyes flickered to Nate, and he looked at his roommate, really looked at his roommate, for what felt like the first time. When he thought of Nate, he thought of lightness and air, of loud bravado and effortless friendliness. He almost wanted to fight Nate, wanted to argue with him and insist, no, you’ve never felt like this, no, there’s no way you know what this is like, and yet, he found himself believing Nate completely, without a shadow of a doubt.

It was… surprising, to say the least. That perhaps the feeling in his chest, of waves threatening to overwhelm him, of that not-so-gentle hum of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, maybe he didn’t have to explain them to Nate. Maybe Nate knew already.

“How do you… let them?” he asked, quiet, sincere. Because this, this was the hardest part for him. Somehow, he’d managed to convince two people, Helen and Harry, that he wasn’t just this shitty black hole that consumed and consumed and never gave anything back, and they were there. They wanted to help, and Jonah could not, for the life of him, figure out how to let them.

He wanted to be saved. He wanted to be saved so badly it was killing him. And then, the words were leaving his lips before he could stop them, pure terror infused into every breath, because this was his greatest fear, and he didn’t know why he was asking Nate, didn’t know how he’d allowed himself to trust in less than thirty seconds, but here he was, spilling over and spilling out, and god he just hoped Nate would understand. “What if I let them… what if they try to save me and they can’t? What if every good thing about me has rotted away and when they try to peel back all the bad and find what’s left, there’s just… nothing? What then?”

Jonah had lost his appetite completely, the banana set aside and forgotten. There was no humor that was going to penetrate this, now that Nate had dredged it all up to the surface, like pulling some great shipwreck up from the bottom of the ocean. He was the wreck, and he was somehow also the storm.

“Don’t give me the same bullshit everyone else does,” he said sharply. “The whole everyone can be saved, nobody is too broken crap. Because there are people who are just… born wrong. There are people where no matter how hard you try to be good, it doesn’t take. What are those people supposed to do?” What am I supposed to do?

.

nate hears jonah, and he can’t help but hear the voice of someone who’s clearly wrestling with a lot of heartache and unresolved trauma. while nate’s first instinct is to make jokes or run away from most (emotional) situations, he chooses to sit in it this time. and it’s hard, because it reminds him of some dark places he pulled himself out from. places he wanted to forget about. nate tries to remember that there isn’t any shame in that  — in fact, there’s a pride he can take in looking back at all the things he’s been through. what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that cheesy shit.

but nate doesn’t say any of that, because again, jonah isn’t in the space to hear it; in this moment when his roommate is being his most vulnerable, nate wants to help him however he can. not because it’s a good thing to do. because he wants to. even if it might not be what jonah wants to hear.

“now, you’re smart enough to know that life isn’t that cut and dry. it’d be boring if it was. there isn’t just good and bad in the world — this shit is complicated and messy and...sometimes it doesn’t feel like it’s worth the trouble.” nate moves to sit at the edge of jonah’s bed and faces him. it was time they got on the same level. “but let’s say you’re right. let’s say...there are some people who are born wrong and have no chance of being ‘saved’, whatever that means. why, then, consider the possibility of opening yourself up to being rescued? that’s some self-fulfilling prophecy bullshit that i don’t agree with. holding the people you love to unrealistic expectations is the quickest way to fuck things for them and for yourself. but if you were honest, you’d admit that you don’t want to push them out. because you hope, at some point, that their kindness will rub off on you.” 

nate sighs, because he realizes he’s gone deeper than he’d like on a post-breakfast conversation, but it’s too late to turn back now. at least they’re talking. “jonah, i’ve been where you are. hell, depending on the day, i’ve been a skip away from spending all day in the bed myself. but expecting to be ‘saved’ is not the answer. you know who needs saving? kittens in trees. princesses in fairy tales. babies, like literally all the time.” nate leans forward as if he’s telling jonah as secret.

“unfortunately, you and i are none of those things. there is no saving us, because life just doesn’t happen to us. we have the means to change things, to work towards something different for ourselves. and guess what? sometimes, we gotta get down and just fight for it. so do yourself a favor, do those people who love you a favor, and fucking fight for y-ourself, man.” his voice cracks for a second, but he doesn’t care.

it’s then that nate realizes his eyes are wet. he wipes them dry with the back of his hands. 

“....shit.”

.

bxstvrd​:

Of course it was Nate.

Well-meaning, kind-hearted, persistent Nate. Jonah half wished it had been Julian who’d come back to the room solely because at least Julian was used to his moodiness, his snappishness, his cruelty. Nate… still seemed to think there was some shred of good in him, and Jonah, who’d be mean to a rock for sport, somehow couldn’t find it in him to treat the other with the same callousness he presented towards the rest of the world.

Didn’t mean he didn’t hate every second of being aware of his soft, incurable heart.

“I’m awake,” he mumbled, barely above a whisper. He refused to let Nate see him, refused to roll over and get up. And besides, even if he wanted to do either of those things, he couldn’t find the energy. “I’m not hungry.”

But he did have to find the energy. He wouldn’t be left alone if he didn’t at least try to assert himself. And so, it was with enormous effort that he sat up, rubbing tiredness from his eyes, before turning to face Nate. “If it’s alright with you, I don’t feel much like talking. I think– I’m coming down with something.” A total lie, but it was easier than telling the truth.

He couldn’t quite meet Nate’s gaze, knew his eyes always gave too much away, before finishing with, “You should go to class. I’ll be fine.”

nate sighs in relief, because while it seems like jonah’s going through a lot of other shit, at least he’s not dead. but he doesn’t look great, so nate attempts something most people don’t dare to do and bursts jonah’s personal bubble to take his temperature. which is really just the back of nate’s hand against jonah’s forehead, but it’s all nate needs to know that something’s up. 

“yeah, you’re comin’ down with something alright,” nate turns towards the food, “it’s pretty common, i think. almost as common as the cold,” he finds two forks and picks up the drink carrier, “and it’s been going around the department these past couple of weeks, so it’s actually not surprising you got it.” nate puts the food on a nearby surface, kicks off his shoes, and sits down on the floor next to jonah. “you know what it is, right?” he pushes one of the warm containers into jonah’s lap and hands him a fork and syrup. 

“just a classic case of bullshit, jonah. and while it’s normally contagious, lucky for you, my immune system is already shit so missing class is common for me.” nate opens up his own waffle container and takes no time to bathe it in syrup and butter, before he looks back up at jonah. “look. i don’t know what’s going on, or why it’s happening today, but i do know that obviously something is up with you and while you’re not obligated to talk to me about any of it, i’m not letting you face it alone on an empty stomach. so. we’re going to sit here and eat these Belgian waffles, because letting breakfast food get cold is a crime i don’t think i’m willing to commit. ...oh shit, you’re not on a gluten-free kick, right?”

pvlmer​:

the entire debacle that happened during the masque had jason a little shaken. of course, he knew he wasn’t a murderer. he didn’t actually kill orson and he didn’t even know who did. but he did know that what the mysterious person said had some truth to it. jason could’ve saved orson and he didn’t. whether that was the right or wrong decision was something that jason was still trying to figure out. of course, it was morally wrong to deny someone help when they’re begging for their life. but is it morally wrong if that person is a dick? the jury (jason) was still out on that one. 

it was a question that kept jason up at night. and specifically, it was the question that was keeping him up tonight. after the events, he fled to his room, wanting to be as far away from the refectory as possible. it was like the person screaming murderer was his own conscience, which just freaked him out a little too much. he was in his own world once he got back into his room, despite his roommate being there. it was like he was alone because everything just faded and he was left with just his thoughts. his mind started to wander and worry. not just about the night where he left orson for dead, but the other members of the program. as much as he felt like he didn’t belong with them, he couldn’t help but feel some sort of anxiety over whether they were okay or not. the anxiety was the worst when it came to his brother. as much as people talked about how theater kids became family, nate was his family.

just as he was thinking about nate, he heard a knocking on his door. he yawned. it was some ungodly hour in the morning, but god knows that jason didn’t sleep at all so it wasn’t like he was getting woken up. he stumbled towards the door, his movements slow and jagged as he was starting to have a migraine from the lack of sleep. he opened up the door to see nate and without thinking, jason pulls his brother in for a hug. “hey, are you okay?” he asks when he lets go of the embrace.

the door opens, and nate drops his phone in the process of hugging jason, because his brother is okay and that is enough to extinguish any fear in nate’s mind. when they hug, nate suddenly feels very stupid, because of course nothing bad has happened (yet), but he also realizes it’s kinda fucked up how triggered he was by the events from the ball. but the hug helps. the hug is warm and familiar and it’s exactly what nate needs right now. as they separate, nate starts to feel a little dejected, but jason asks him a question and he pulls himself out of it so quickly, it’s hardly noticeable.

“am i okay? uh, i don’t know jason, let’s see: pretty sure i sprained my ankle during the fight scene earlier, was accused of murdering our old director, went back to my room and realized i’m almost of happy pills which also stressed me out because my dealer says they won’t be back until next week, then i tried calling and texting you fifty million times; speaking of which, where the fuck is my—”, nate looks down and picks his phone off the floor, shoving it in his pocket. there’s another crack in the screen’s spider web and the battery life is at 3%, but what’s life without a lil’ danger? nate takes a breath. he can feel himself getting worked up and it’s too late (or early, technically) to take any more drugs. he sticks to a strict schedule.

“the point is, sweet brother o’ mine, i’m not doin’ so hot, but we gotta talk. like, now.” nate’s stomach grumbles, and he huffs. “also, i could really use a grilled cheese.”