Chandlerrosen​:

pvlmer​:

the mood feels weird to jason. even as someone who’s normally adaptable in most situations, he can’t help but feel a little uneasy. and he can’t quite put his finger on it. he figures it was because of nate’s mood shift, that’s what’s putting him off. hes’ so used to seeing his brother crack jokes and be the life of the party, but this mood on him was seldom something jason saw. he wonders if it’s a mood that nate keeps hidden from others, kind of like how jason keeps parts of himself hidden to certain people. jason tries to focus on the lake, rather than how creepy everything is. he remembers his therapist telling him focusing on one thing can help alleviate anxiety. he’s not sure if it’s working or not. he hears what nate says. so he settles on: not. 

“i only told them stuff i thought was relevant to the case. i mostly told them that i didn’t think anyone here is capable of something like that but they kind of pressed me so i did say someone’s name but it was more like just a theory, you know?” a couple moments pass before what nate had said really sunk in for jason. he was mostly talking about the police investigation and didn’t even register that nate had said he was trying to keep the cops from suspecting jason. “wait…why would you want to keep them from looking in my direction?” he gulps. because deep down, he knows the answer. but he can’t tell nate what happened that night. how he laughed in the face of orson as he bled out, how he liked seeing him suffer. the guilt of his actions and of keeping this from nate have been heavy on jason, but not as heavy as knowing that his brother would never look at him the same again. “nate, i…don’t know what you’re talking about.” his voice was unconvincing to even an ordinary person, so it certainly wouldn’t be enough to convince his brother. but he couldn’t, he couldn’t let nate see that side of him. the side that got lost in the shadows and became the darkness within them. 

.

nate winces at jason’s words. for so long, he had tried to be the best brother - or at least, the best brother he knew how to be. in their household, nate had learned specific lessons about patience, kindness, and empathy. all of which he never had to really use with jason, because things had been easy for them for a long time. now in hindsight, while trying to analyze his brother, nate felt that familiar pang of guilt he always managed to push down. had things only been easy because nate didn’t try to work on their relationship? how much was there that they hadn’t talked about, simply because they didn’t think it was necessary? had nate pushed jason away, somehow? the answers to those questions were hard to think about. 

but he couldn’t let jason shut down on him this time; the stakes were too high. “who’s name did you say? is that so much of a secret you can’t even tell me?” nate looks out past jason, out towards the rest of the campus through the thick of the trees. he thinks about the police, about the investigation, about orson’s body and - “jason...i love you, okay? i’d gladly give you a kidney, a lung, a part of my pancreas - if they were healthy, that is.” nate steps closer to him, “my point is that i’d do just about anything for you. but i need you to trust me.” nate knows he’s handled jason with kid gloves practically their whole life, so this feels especially weird for them, but he has to see this through. no matter what the answer might turn out to be.

“tell me the truth”, nate signs with a mixture of nostalgia for their ‘secret’ language as kids and fear of what jason might actually reveal to him. “did you kill o-r-s-o-n?”

📱

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?

text → nate & zahra

zahra: thank you ❤️ i'm really happy. it's not macbeth but it's still better than i would've expected tbh

zahra: i would've killed to be a fly on her wall when she read your text

zahra: sorry, is it still too soon to use that expression? fuck, i would've *loved to be a fly on her wall

zahra: completely sold on crime noir. macbeth meets "the big sleep"! i'd look so good in a giant fedora & trench coat

nate: well it's a good thing heidi isn't that hobbs fella. she actually knows what talent looks like. oops

nate: kill 'em w/ kindness, kill 2 birds w/ 1 stone, kill time, & curiosity killed the cat are all great expressions and deserve more, so no, pls live your life w/ no fear

nate: tbh i think we'd ALL look good in a giant fedora & a trench coat. plus if those detectives ever come back, it'd be one of these

nate: [ spiderman pointing at spiderman meme ]

scenestlr​:

grace’s lines were circling in her mind throughout most of the day. she knows her role well enough, has studied in her free time ever since learning who she’d play, and really, prince escalus wasn’t a difficult role. what she didn’t prepare for was that terrible feeling of returning to alderidge and being around everyone once again. she feels stares everywhere she goes, and she knows that after she goes on, it’ll only increase.

she can’t think about how she feels like the stares were becoming less and less about her and chandler. so she ignores the looks and heads outside. away from the police and everyone else in the refectory, the music fading into the background. she appreciates the night chill as it settles into her bones, her footsteps light upon the cobblestone. she lets out a small breath, and for a moment feels at peace. right until she hears his voice, reciting a soft line from the play. and of course, nate palmer had to be out here at the one spot away from the rest of the tiny bubble that was alderidge. she considers poking fun at his running of lines but lets the comment die in her throat. (does she say anything? does she keep walking past him like she didn’t see him? what do you say to someone who found a dead body?) 

she moves towards the backdoors again, careful in her steps, but stops when she realizes the detectives have patrolled to their side of the room now. great. she wasn’t guilty, she knew that, but she didn’t want any interaction with them and whatever they wanted to find out. she turns back around, striding quickly towards the outside and where nate was smoking. she couldn’t handle the detectives and stares, but she knows she can handle nate palmer. “wow,” she intones as she leans against the outer wall, now concealed from the doors. “i didn’t mean to, uh, interrupt your serious rehearsal time. apologies.”

there are just some people in the world who don’t want to see others happy, and at this point, nate is convinced that grace ishihara is one of those people. he knew it was practically impossible for them to not see each other again ─ with such a small class size and the loom of orson’s death hanging over the department like a nimbus cloud, there was a high probability that he would have to talk to grace again before they graduated. which, honestly, couldn’t come any sooner.

nate laughs, because he always does, but this one is short and dry. “no worries. i’m just taking a page out of your book, y’know? trying to be a serious actor who cares about his craft for once. but, i gotta admit,” nate turns to face her and flicks his lighter open, “it’s as boring as it sounds.” the end of the joint burns, and nate looks back at grace with his best poker face.

there are plenty of things he could say right now that would probably be unnecessarily harsh, so he keeps his mouth shut for once. he has some sense of self-control, after all. instead, he takes a quick puff and asks, “those detectives are here for you, right?”

pvlmer​:

jason follows nate into his room. despite the fact that they’re seen to a lot of people as twins, they had never really been all that alike. but for some reason, it still worked. even though there were times when jason couldn’t help but wonder what it would’ve been like if he were an only child, but he always tried to keep those thoughts at bay. because nate was his brother, and it was wrong to have all of those thoughts. even though he had them. 

“oh, right, the kitchen. i don’t think my grilled cheese can come anywhere close to the ones we get on postmates,” jason replies with a shrug. going to the kitchen to make them himself hadn’t even occurred to jason, because he always figured that no one would want anything he made – not his cooking, not his acting, not his love. “greasy and lots of calories.” he orders from his phone before sitting down next to nate. it almost feels like they’re back home, how they both used to sit on the floor and talk. they didn’t seem to do that much anymore. that was mostly jason’s fault, he had always kept certain parts of himself hidden from his brother. not because he didn’t trust him, but he just didn’t want nate to feel bad about anything. it wasn’t nate’s fault that he was more talented than jason, and that their parents loved him more. he never wanted his brother to know about the darkness that lived within him, his brother was a golden light, he didn’t deserve to see that. jason laughed at nate’s joke, despite the fact that the night had been heavy, he could always count on nate to make him laugh and take the weight off.

“i mean…just everything that happened at the winter masque. i couldn’t imagine anyone from our program killing orson so it was really weird to hear someone accusing us of killing him.”

jason hated lying to nate. he also hated how easy it was. maybe it was because he had had so much practice. so many years biting his tongue and pretending like he wasn’t angry, so many years pretending that he wouldn’t do anything just to get a fraction of what his brother got. but he had to lie to nate. he couldn’t let his brother see who he truly was, nate was one of the only people who loved jason and once he found out what a monster his brother was, that would all go away. he couldn’t corrupt his brother’s mind. so he lied through his teeth, like he had done so many times before.

if nate was honest with himself, he’d admit that jason was in his blind spot. 

nate took pride in being able to separate the truth from the bullshit on a regular basis, but he had never ever been able to get a solid read on jason. and yeah, he knew it was painfully ironic that one of the closest people in his life was also the main person nate sometimes felt like he knew nothing about. and that freaked him out on occasion ─ probably because he still held onto a lot of guilt from their upbringing. but fuck, he was tired of playing that tune. one of these days he’d quit party drugs cold turkey, go back to his weekly visits with dr. june, apologize to his brother, forget about orson, and get on with his fucking life. that day, unfortunately, was not today.

nate looks at jason longer than he should before it becomes noticeable, but nate really wants to take him in as long as he can. when he sees jason, he sees the shy kid who tagged along on (most) of his adventures. he sees a sweet, kind brother and son. he couldn’t be capable of actual terror, could he? had jason been developing into someone else this whole time and nate had been too selfish enough to notice? nate flashes a grin with his shrug, and hopes that it’s enough. but he wants to nudge at the issue, if even just a little bit further.

“i don’t know j, you never know who’s capable of something like that. you might be their roommate. their friend. hell, their brother. the claims had to have some truth to them, right?” nate sighs, “i’m just glad i don’t have to worry about you.” 

bxstvrd​:

DATE & TIME: Monday morning, week of auditions LOCATION: J²’s room AVAILABILITY: Taken @aldysfool​

Jonah was already thirty minutes late to his first class of the day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d woken up with a weight on his chest that wouldn’t move, a panic in his heart that left him debilitated, immobile. Mustering the strength to get out of bed seemed impossible, and he’d lay there, silent, pretending to be asleep, as Julian had got ready and left for the day, had tried not to notice the way his roommate had been hovering, as if questioning whether to wake Jonah up so he wouldn’t be late.

He made the right choice and left. Which meant Jonah was alone.

Numbly, through the fog of his mind, he recognized that he should call Harry. If he called Helen, he’d have to explain why he was like this, and he just… he couldn’t do it. But even reaching over to grab his phone seemed impossible, so he just lay there, festering like a wound, curled in on himself, trying to minimize the damage. When he was left alone, like this, painfully aware of his own existence, all he could think of was Orson, which turned into William, which turned into Des – all of the father figures who failed him, or maybe he failed them, and maybe every single one of them was right: there was nothing wrong with the world. There was something wrong with him.

And just like that, tears were welling in his eyes, staining his pillow. He curled in tighter, wrapping his arms around his knees, muffling the quiet hitches of his breath, not hearing the sound of the door of his dorm opening over the weight of his own agony.

contrary to what most people would assume, nate loved mornings. so much so, that he often just stayed awake to watch the sun rise; it’s a beautiful sight that always manages to bring him some comfort. had he always been this prone to insomnia? nah. was it something that had developed over the past couple of months? nope. would he admit it was getting worse every day? of course not. this morning was just like every other morning he’d had the previous week, except he was basically running off of caffeine fumes and a sugar rush, because mondays fucking sucked, but nate was not going to let the gloom of another week take the reigns of his morning. he couldn’t afford it.

so nate decides to spread the love with breakfast food, because hey, it’s his favorite meal of the day and not one student in the history of alderidge can deny the impressive spread the refectory boasts each morning. balancing two containers of waffles, a sack of fruit, and a drink carrier, nate tumbles through the dorm: “good day, my fellow thespians! let us gather and be merry and...talk shit, or whatever!” it doesn’t take him long to realize that no one’s listening, and for a moment, he’s a little bummed that j&j are nowhere to be found. nate checks for julian — nope. so he turns his attention to jonah. nate almost reconsiders checking on him, but he calls out anyway, “jonah, you up? i’ve brought sustenance." nate doesn’t hear a response, so he shrugs and sits the bags down before he drops all of it. nate knows he’s there, but tries to rationalize that maybe he doesn’t want to be bothered. ...but then it starts to bug him, so nate tries again. he needs to hear some kind of response, or else his mind will start to jump to wildly ridiculous conclusions.

“...i didn’t bring any burnt toast this time, so that’s a plus. right?”

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.”