Harryzhangs​:

ofhelens​:

Class is easy. Helen can do class. She can sit there, colour in her entire copy of MacBeth in pink highlighter and pretend that the world makes sense. That she was supposed to end up with this role. That Jonah was meant to be slighted. That Josie was supposed to play a minor role. (I mean Josie, really?!). Snapped out of her headspace by Nate, she smiles and nods softly. “Sorry, a thousand miles away. Just…thinking about MacBeth. Congrats - by the way. If anyone was going to curse me, I’d want it to be you.” Turning to address his actual question, she slides out a piece of loose paper. “Here - feel free to take these away. Better you fall asleep in Nicole than Sebastian’s class.”

nate bows at helen, making a dramatic show of accepting her notes. “i don’t know what it is, but i’ve just been so tired lately. and thanks - honestly, i think this show is gonna help me reach my final form; i’ll retire to the woods after graduation and start a coven, maybe.” nate grins and motions to her, “but no, an official congratulations are in order to you! i’m sure you never really saw ‘Scottish gentleman’ in your future, but here you are about deliver the best Ross I’ve ever seen, methinks. what say you, m’lady?” he slides the paper into his bag before he turns to helen, moving to leave class alongside her.

texts | palmer bros.

jason: thanks bro.

jason: i mean, he's not as bad as josephine or hudson and he seemed pretty upset about it the other day.

jason: but yeah you're right.

jason: what does getting spooky entail? but it's not like i have anything else planned so sure.

nate: not as /bad/? i love u, but clearly i've left you with matty for way too long. WAIT. ....ya'll aren't...? yknow....👀

nate: i mean no judgment, i just think u can do better

nate: & not much, just having have a good ol' family friendly night of potion making, ritual casting, and maybe a séance if i'm feelin frisky? idk, i just wanna go full on method acting with this shit

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?”

fmk the rest of the fourth years

"am i making this complicated on purpose? nah. but i’ve got opinions.”

fuck: 3some w/ hudson + teddy (texting them both after this, actually); zahra, only because we would tear each other apart if we got married; jonah, because he is tense as fuck; chandler, because i like their vibe + the whole affair with orson was kinda hot, not gonna lie.

marry: hmm, well harry, but then i’d divorce her so she & mads can be endgame; mads, but then she’d divorce me so she & harry can be endgame; lexie, because she kinda scares me and i like that; helen, even though we’d probably be better as besties; julian, because duh, who wouldn’t marry julian?

kill: well grace, but only in self-defense (even though we all know it’s coming); mathias, because no one should be allowed to be that pretty and that self-centered. it’s unfair.

+

k(iss) on the forehead, because he’s my lil’ bean: jason.

chandlerrosen​:

chandler walked into the refectory, copy of macbeth in tow, in search of a cup of coffee. their first read-through was coming up soon and she had to make positive she was prepared. eyes would be on her, and many of her peers could smell fear and insecurity, and wouldn’t hesitate to capitalize on it. grabbing her coffee, she headed for a table near the window to read in peace, when she noticed someone was trying to get her attention. “oh, hello,” she said coolly, smiling a bit when he called her ‘lady ‘beth,’ reminding her of her latest success, “congratulations, by the way, i can’t wait to see you as a witch. i’m sure you’ll make it your own!” looking around the refectory as if expecting heidi to come and scold her for not spending every waking moment poring over the play, she turned her attention back to nate, “sure, nate,” she said hesitantly, sitting across from him with her cup of coffee. chandler was preparing for the worst; though nate was mostly harmless, he had a tendency to say whatever was on his mind, regardless of how it would be received. which is quite admirable, in a sense, but often got on chandler’s nerves, especially in moments when she was particularly vulnerable and emotional. still, he had a good sense of humor, and chandler appreciated about seventy percent of the things that came out of his mouth. “what is it?”

to be honest, nate hadn’t had much personal interaction with chandler. he knew her well enough to understand that she had obviously been through some shit these past couple of months, probably tenfold since she actually still, uh, cared - or cares - about orson. nate had thought about reaching out, but he didn’t know if that would’ve just been weird or if chandler wanted to even be around him. but there she was, sitting down at the table. and now nate didn’t know if he’d have the nerve to say what had originally been on his mind. he stalls for half a moment, hopefully not long enough to notice. “...i just wanted to get your quick opinion on something, actually. take a listen.” he lets out his best cackle, trying to embody the crones and hags of generations before. it’s loud, but just when other students start to turn and look their way, nate stops. he grins, “not bad for an amateur try, huh? it’s all part of my plan to slowly submerge myself in the role until i’ve lost my mind and i don’t know who am i anymore. ugh, can’t wait.”

“you feeling good about lady m, right? 

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.

the most honest day(s) of them all! 

let’s get weird.

📱

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.

what was your first thought when you saw orson was dead?

“thoughts couldn’t evolve into words, just emotion. i was horrified, because i hadn’t ever seen that much blood before. (by the way, zero out of ten; would not recommend.) then there was fear, of what happened to him and if there was some fuckin’ murderer just strolling about campus; confusion, because i found something that put jason at the crime scene and that didn’t make any sense to me at all because he’s my brother and he wouldn’t do something like this or surely he’d at least he’d tell me; anger was up next, at myself and then towards orson. wanna know something? i didn’t call the police right away. seriously debated it, actually. and as fucked up as it sounds, i got a slice of joy out of all of that. the puppet strings had been severed.”