Ofhelens​:

what's your dream role?

“fuck me, this is a hard one. let’s keep this strictly shakespeare, ‘cause i could riff all day on contemporary theatre and how much tragicomedies speak to me on a spiritual level. so yeah, the dream role would have to go to everybody’s super problematic fave, iago. he’s an enigma of a character - with unpredictable emotions, motives, tactics, and some of the best soliloquys willy ever wrote. he’s fucked up in so many ways, and i wanna sink my teeth into him and take him on. i’ve been craving a puzzle.”

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

📱

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 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.

the most honest day(s) of them all! 

let’s get weird.

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​:

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.”

nate’s social media  — twitter

believe it or not, nate’s got a pretty consistent thing going with twitter. his first love, nate spends a good amount of time retweeting memes, news articles, and hot takes on pop culture. while he isn’t really sure where all his followers came from, people seem to be having a good time and playing nice in the comments. (even if a few thousand of them are bots.) there’s something about spewing dumb shit in one moment and truth in the next that nate really connects with. if his classmates finally agree to that orgy, he realllllllllly hopes they’ll let him live tweet the whole thing. that should definitely get him 100k by graduation.