Do U Are Have Stupid?

if you could trade places with any of the fourth years, who would it be?

“ugh, this is so hard, but lemme just say that i thought a lot about who’d i want to take my place because i could trade places with any of these theatre nerds and have a fuckin’ ball. but who would really benefit from having mine? and that’s how i landed on my pride and joy, jason palmer. is this cheating because he’s my brother? i don’t care. i would want him to just let loose if we traded places; i’ve already done an alphabet’s worth of drugs and broken some laws; like, there isn’t much he could do that would surprise me. i just feel like he’s holding back on me all the time, and...honestly, i feel guilty about that. a lot. especially because i know i wouldn’t be here without him.”

a pause.

“ha. but yeah, if we got caught up in some freaky friday shit, i would totally facebook stalk our old classmates and tell some people off, tell hudson and helen i’m in love with them both to (hopefully) start some drama, audition for the lead role in our last production just to prove a point, call up mom and pops to announce i’m cutting them off and moving to France after graduation, and then snoop in mathias’ room to find evidence that he definitely killed orson so that i wouldn’t have to worry about the watch anymore.”

@pvlmer

chandlerrosen​:

“oh,” chandler uttered, taken aback by his request. it was so much…simpler than she had imagined. she burst into laughter as she heard his cackle, impressed with his commitment to his characterization, even if it was an unorthodox one. “good, very good,” she laughed, nodding her head as she slid into the seat across from him after deciding it was safe enough to do so. “ah, the old de niro method,” she chuckled, unsure how serious nate was about losing his mind - ideally, not very, but with nate, you never really knew.  

chandler took a sip of her coffee as she readied herself to answer nate’s question, “mhm, yeah, i’m really excited, actually. i’ve never played a woman on stage before, and i mean, it can’t be that different, but…” she trailed off, thinking of what josie said earlier. maybe chandler wasn’t cut out for the role of lady macbeth – macduff or king duncan would have been a far easier choice, and likely the role orson would have given her. “i guess i am kind of nervous,” she mumbled as she ran a hand through her hair, letting out a sigh, “but lady macbeth is a complex character, so it’ll at least be fun. hopefully no descent into madness, though.” 

.

nate smiles back at chandler, and for a moment, it’s easy to ignore the weird feeling he gets while talking to her. “i hate to break it to you, but playing the lady of the hour almost guarantees some sort of descent into madness will be happening. i hope you’re strapped in for a wild ride of rehearsals,” he laughs. nate realizes that this very brief conversation might be the longest they’ve had in a while; especially since everything went to shit last semester. would it be weird to ask her how she was doing? if she was having nightmares? if she was a little freaked out the events from the winter masque just like he was? a little heavy for small talk around the lunch table, maybe. but while he thinks of more small talk, he studies chandler for a second and can’t help but see orson. it was hard not to, as much as nate wanted to admit otherwise. 

“you’re totally gonna kill it, chandler. i hope you don’t let some of our idiotic classmates get to you. personally, i love that shit’s changed around here. feels lighter.” nate has a second thought on that comment, so he quickly adds before picking up his tea: “in like, the social dynamics of our class, i mean.”

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.

texts | palmer bros.

nate: j

nate: jasonnnnnnnnn

nate: how ya feelin, champ?

📱 :)

What ringtone my muse has set for yours: 

this chorus for sure.

What contact photo my muse has set for yours: 

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

nate’s kryptonite is a lame convo, so as long as julian keeps it fun, nate doesn’t really care about how he texts. because, let’s be real, nate is in the emoji using-lowercase writing-triple texting-five exclamation points gang. he would have no room to complain.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

pretty quickly. mostly because nate’s phone is an extension of his hand; he’ll respond between scene run-throughs, in class, during a presentation, showering, and sleeping (it happened once). it doesn’t really matter.

How often our muses text:

since they’re roomies, i imagine they text pretty regularly. if not for nate to talk shit about everything going on, then to send julian funny memes.

How often our muses call:

exposing nate in the worst way right now: he hates phone calls, but loves using facetime/video chats. it’s kinda his thing. he just likes looking at people’s faces when they talk, okay? and yes, he will call at the worst times.

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

uh, i don’t see why he would. if julian’s calling, nate’s picking up the damn phone.

Last text(s) sent from my muse to yours:

[ sent, 3:28 a.m. ] : uhhhh i just tried humming while plugging my nose - almost blew my brains out? i think i popped a blood vessel??? my feet are numb????? am i dying??????????

[ sent, 4:52 a.m. ] : hey thx again for not makin me in2 a nate kabob the othr night during the r&j scene. ur a professional & i <3 u

[ sent, 7:24 a.m. ] : breakfast run, buckaroo!!!! u want anything? if jonah doesn’t txt me back in 10 min i’m bringing him burnt toast & a lemon wedge.

@juliansbennet

cause of death: boredom 

📱 better late than never! hehe

What ringtone my muse has set for yours:

um, this was obvious, right?

What contact photo my muse has set for yours:

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

nate thinks teddy is adorable, so however he texts is adorable by association.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

v quickly — nate’s phone is important for all drug & sex-related activities.

How often our muses text:

maybe not as often as you’d initially think  — i’m sure they lots of each other throughout the week! (again, drugs & sex)

How often our muses call:

again, maybe not as much as you’d think. i mean, they’re too busy doing other things these days, so. (other things = you guessed it, drugs & sex)

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

nope! nate answers those late-night calls reaaaaal quick.

Last text(s) sent from my muse to yours:

[ sent, 2:28 a.m. ] : u up? 

[ sent, 2:32 a.m. ] : so what’s the verdict on inviting hudson in for that 3some? yay/nay?

[ sent, 7:55 a.m. ] : sorry, i was definitely KIDDING. .....................unless????

text → nate & zahra

zahra: first witch! that's HOT

zahra: you've already cursed josephine in the group chat, so i'd say you're perfect for the role

nate: fuck yeahhh! hey congrats to YOU btw - how ya feel about banquo?

nate: lmao i mean, did i lie?????

nate: also, what do u think about macbeth as a crime noir? a 60s psychedelic trip? a pirate fantasy? cause i have FEELINGS

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.”

harryzhangs​:

as enjoyable as harry finds the winter masque every year, even she needs a moment away from the crowds every now and then. tonight, it’s reached beyond a simple need for some fresh air– the constant presence of the detectives, making her paranoid that they’re watching her every move, has caused a nervous stir within harry that makes it difficult for her to keep her usual composure. she should be worry-free and having a great time catching up with her friends, but instead she’s worried about suspicion and fractures among her peers and the can of red spray paint wrapped in a plastic shopping bag under her bed. 

she exits the refectory and slips off her heels, stretching her toes against the wet grass (that’s the funny thing about washington– everything is always rain-soaked. harry’s californian sensibilities still aren’t used to it). it’s cold, but in a bracing, refreshing way that harry doesn’t really mind at the moment. she takes a small wander, eyes fixed on the stars above her (the ones she can actually see through the clouds, at least), hardly noticing she’s coming up on nate until she’s just a few feet away from his back.

“two such opposèd kings encamp them still. in man as well as herbs– grace and rude will. fuck, i skipped a line, didn’t i?” harry grins, folding her arms against the chill. “well, i guess that spoils that i won’t be playing friar laurence tonight.”

when he hears harry interjecting with more friar lines, nate lets out a breath of relief. while he hadn’t necessarily gone outside to be alone all night (just a quick sec to catch his breath), nate had a split second of worry that whoever joined him was going to kill his vibe before it even got started. harry wasn’t one of those people. with the friar’s weed soliloquy replaying in his head, nate considers that he’s done his best to stay away from the alcohol tonight - this performance was too important, given the circumstances  - and he should be rewarded before he has to go change into costume. fuck it.

nate laughs and turns to face harry, “aww, that sucks. well, please know that i’d pay good money to watch you transform into the friar any day. monastic tunic and all.” when the lighter ignites, nate rolls the joint between his fingers until the flame bites into the paper. at the sight of the burn, nate slips his lighter into his back pocket and glances over harry. before he raises the joint to his lips, he motions to her bare feet, “your night must be going as well as mine if the heels have come off,” he takes a hit and then extends the joint to her. harry looks like she could probably use something to take the edge off. it could be a long night.

“you want it in? i don’t have cooties. pinky swear.”