The Most Honest Day(s) Of Them All! 

📱

What ringtone my muse has set for yours:

the palmer boys. (and yes, this is the ringtone.)

What contact photo my muse has set for yours:

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts:

i think nate probably wishes jason wasn’t so serious allllll the time, but he’s happy to hear from him either way.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts:

not gonna lie, nate might not respond as quickly because he’s trying to think of the best answer to come up with? 

How often our muses text:

before orson’s death, i think they spent a good amount of time w/ each other so there weren’t many texts exchanged. now, i think there’s some distance between them (so more texting is involved). and a good chunk of it is probably family related.

How often our muses call:

nate loves a video chat and he calls jason ALL the time when he can. i wanna say that he prefers that to texting because he can never get a good read on jason’s mood via texts. so he has to see his lil’ face.

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours:

before orson’s death, absolutely. things were fine. they were fine. there was no real reason to call him back, right? but these days, that’s definitely not the case. nate doesn’t know what jason might be calling him about. he answers before the first ring is done.

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

[ sent, 8:48 p.m. ] : going on a donut run, wanna join? gotta feed the ladies and then heading that way.

[ sent, 8:49 p.m. ] : also yes, i’m still feeding those cats behind the FAB. they’re important to me, ok? trust me on this.

[ sent, 8:56 p.m. ] : omg pick up ur phone - there’s too many of them back here!!!! i’m trapped & scared!!!!!!!! SOS

[ sent, 10:00 a.m. ] : hey, this is ur weekly reminder that i love u very much, kiddo. i know i don’t say it all the time, but i’m proud of u. seriously. also, call mom back.

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?”

where: the anchor; when: the night after the cast read-through; who: @teddynewell​.

for once, nate makes it through the day without falling asleep in class and/or skipping to smoke some weed, because he looks forward to hanging out with teddy all damn day at his fave spot: the anchor. while it didn’t have the beats and the strobe lighting of a rave, nate couldn’t deny the charm of the place for students and professors alike. plus, nate practically lived at the anchor his sophomore year, so the staff was like an extended family at this point. after ordering two fireball shots, he leans against the bar and turns to teddy. with a grin, “you’ll be proud of me. i haven’t taken a single drug all day - scout’s honor - just so i could get wasted with my favorite drinking partner.” when the glasses arrive, nate order two more and slides the first shot over to teddy. he raises his glass. “what should we toast to?”

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

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.” 

i aspire to be one of those people who are known for always smelling good and treating people kindly

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.