#and im not doing work although i did get my theatre assignments in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heyheydidjaknow · 3 years

Text

I would’ve posted this earlier but, alas, I passed out early. This is a longer one, but tumblr got its act together so I can post it all in one part. You guys know where the other chapters are, and if you don’t, they’re at the end of the chapter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go eat straight Nutella.

Chapter 10

“I’m thinking about getting some gloves.”

He looks over at you as he laces up his skates. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, smiling slightly to yourself as you look your hands over, trying to imagine what they would look like. ��Like, badass, fingerless gloves.”

He smiles. “Dude, those would look metal as fuck.”

“Totally, right?” Your smile widens. “With studs and shit.”

He gets to his feet, hopping onto the ice. “Hell yeah.” He drops a puck to assault as you go back to your backed-up coursework the best you can—your handwriting has gone to hell, but you are working with what you have.

You flinch at the crack of his stick, the cross of the T ending up underneath the letter somehow. A cheer from Casey tells you the rubber cylinder’s fate.

‘I swear I learned this.' You squint at the basic algebra, the pencil, crudely held in your fist, hovering over the packet. ‘Why can’t I do this?’

“How’s your pile coming along?” Another crack.

“It’s comin’.” You run your fingers through your hair. “Just… trynna remember how to do ne—… subtraction.” ‘Not debate. Negating is debate.’

He laughs. Another crack. “Man, that thing really fucked you over, huh?”

“Thoroughly.” You decide against continuing to torture yourself, having been at it for the past five hours—most of it in the library before Casey invited you to watch him practice some more— and set the large stack of homework back in your bag. “Are you actually making the shots?”

“Casey Jones doesn’t miss shots.” Another crack.

“Pardon me, oh almighty king of the ice.” You stand on your good leg, grabbing the side of the wall to watch as he went back to collect his pucks.

You two have managed to bond over a mutual respect/love of heavy metal and hockey and, seeing as you are staying out of the Hamatos’ hair for a while—not upon request, but out of courtesy—you have managed to spend a lot more time with him than you may have otherwise. Your school has not assigned Biology any big projects yet, so, until you are assigned it, you do not have anything other than your health to stress about.

“Pardon accepted.” You watch his form as he performs another slap shot.

“You…” you trail off, trying to remember what you were going to say.

“What?”

You shrug. “Dunno.” You lean your head on your arms. “I’ll remember eventually.”

He drops the second puck. “Got any plans after this?”

You sigh. “Nope. Probably gonna head home and try not to cut my fingers making dinner again.”

He takes another shot. “Then let’s go out after this. You and me.”

You smile. “What, don’t have any plans either?”

“Nah.” He drops the third. “Dad doesn’t care if I’m home late anyway.”

“True, true.” You have decided against prying into his home life; it is not your place and does not concern you in the slightest. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Wanna catch a movie? Heard there was this new pizza place just a couple blocks down if you wanna try to sneak it in.”

You snicker. “In the box and all?”

“Yes.” He grins mischievously and hits this one off the walls. Some way, somehow, it still makes it into the goal. “I bet your sweatshirt is big enough to stick the box under.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Not in the mood for burns on top of scars, Jones,” you reprimand him teasingly. “That just ain't it.”

“Then you can wear mine under that one and—”

“Your sweat-soaked hoodie you’ve been practicing in all day?” You cringe at the thought. “Over my dead body.”

“I mean…” he licks his teeth, smile widening, “it’s not exactly like you’re in the best—”

You laugh. “So not cool!”

He puts his hands up in defense, gliding over. “I mean, am I wrong, though?”

“That is completely besides the point, you ass.” You balance on your foot, crossing your arms. “Damn. Making fun of the girl with the broken leg.”

He leans against the wall. “Man, you were dying before the crash.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, whatever, Jones.” You lean against your hand. “How’s Johanna,” you sing.

He presses his hand against your face, pushing you away. “Annie is doing fine.”

You grin, steadying yourself on the wall. “Do you feel her, Johanna?”

“I’m gonna tell her you call her that if you don’t quit it.”

“Do you think that walls can hide her? Even when you’re at her window?”

He pushed his arm all the way out. You hop back.

“Her name isn’t even Johanna.”

“But she is Johanna,” you whine in protest, not bothering to hide your mirth. “She has the hair, the voice, the disposition. She’s an ingénue and you know it.” You have been teasing him about this for a while now: the girl in question—Annabelle Halshaw, a year below you two—had caught his eye when he had heard through the grapevine that she was the lead singer in some indie band. When he had shown you a picture and told you the story, you insisted on calling her Johanna for her golden hair and soft, sweet singing voice he had proudly had you listen to.

“She’s not.”

You roll your eyes, sitting back down as you grab your bag. “Lie to yourself all you want,” you goad, “but deep down, you know in your heart that the truth,” you put a finger up, “is apparent.”

He hops off the ice, sitting next to you as he unlaces his skates. “Whatever.” He smirks. “How’s The Don?”

You avert your gaze. “I haven’t seen ‘im.”

“Boo.” He tied the laces together. “Some girlfriend you are,” he ribs.

You go red. “Not my boyfriend. Not even friends with benefits.”

“Yeah, sure.” He sets the skates into his bag. “That’s why you already know his family.”

“That—”

“And why you’ve had him over to your place.”

“If you don’t cool your tits, I’m telling Lucy you’re crushing on her friend.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What,” you simper, “think I won’t?”

He grabs his bag. “If you do, I’ll show her that video.”

You laugh, following him out of the rink. “You’re the worst.” You note how strange it is that he spent so little time on the ice as you two walk out, but you do not say anything about it.

“Hey, you’re the one throwing threats around.”

“Yeah,” you argue, “but my threat is clearly better.”

He rolls his eyes, pushing you again.

You two keep chatting on the way to the theatre about anything and everything, from new bands to upcoming games to the newest blockbuster horror movies. You are not personally on the hockey team, but, as his friend, it is your duty to care. Besides, you figure, it gives you something to look forward to.

The movie is fine. You convince him against sneaking an entire pizza in, you split a bucket of popcorn, and you give him shit for getting freaked out by the disembowelment scene. It is payback for him teasing you about crying during the last movie you two went to a couple of days ago.

You two stand at the streetlight.

“Dude, it’s like eight,” he groans. “It’s not even late.”

“True,” you agree. “Counterpoint: I still have another week’s worth of work to do by Friday on top of the homework I’ll have to do anyway, so unless you wanna help—”

“Forget I asked.” He pulls his hood up against the autumn wind. “Need me to walk you back?”

“Nah.” You shrug. “If someone mugs me, they’ll give me an excuse to not do my homework.”

“Murdered?

“I’m already halfway there.”

He grins. “See ya tomorrow, Y/N.”

“See ya, Jones.” You wave as he runs off.

The walk home is quiet and considerably easier than it was a couple of weeks ago. Seeing as you now get queasy whenever you get into a car, you have been limited to taking the subway and walking, which, among other things, has contributed positively to your physical strength. You know that you should probably at least try to take the bus or a cab around town to build your tolerance up, but the last time you tried, you had almost tripped and fallen from how shaky your legs were getting out. Oddly enough, you note as you go through the door, you do not have a considerably larger fear of heights than you did before, or of fire, but cars were tripping you up, even though you were the one that crashed it. You feel thankful that, at least, you do not think your fear is crippling. At least, you reason, you can still get into the car.

You lock the door behind you, debating whether you feel like adding to the collection of cuts you now possess— they are self-inflicted, but not intentionally so; you stubbornly refuse to acknowledge the fact that you physically cannot use your hands to cut things. You decide against it tonight, tossing your bag on the bed as you sprawl across it, admittedly exhausted. You allow yourself a couple of seconds with your eyes closed before you pull yourself up with a groan and get back to work.

A part of you wishes that you had the physical energy to stay out longer. You are always trying to find excuses not to sleep, and although the mountain of homework and readjusting your timelines for things you missed is certainly one way to keep yourself preoccupied, it is not exactly what you would consider fun. Then again, reliving your greatest traumas while you sleep is not exactly fun either.

You catch yourself peeling at the newly applied bandages on your fingers, fingernails catching under the crudely applied adhesives. Applying bandages properly requires more dexterity and patience than you currently possess, and you are hardly going to ask someone else for help with something as stupid as that. You have lasted this long without needing too much help. People can live by themselves. You will live, probably. Well? Not your concern.

‘I should eat something.’ Your eyes strain to focus on the piece of paper in front of you, your mind wandering aimlessly as you try to impress the actual importance of finishing this upon yourself, but you find that is an insurmountable feat.

You drop your bag off the side of the bed, reaching down and pulling your shoe off, leaning back into your pillows, the weight of the day practically immobilizing you. Fumbling hands switch the lamp off, bathing your room in momentary, blissful darkness before the gravity of your decision sets in.

“Alright, me,” you breathe to yourself. “What’s it gonna be today? My folks? Bradford? What’s his face? Hell,” you chuckle, “why not all three? I’m sadistic enough, I’m sure.”

You close your eyes. “Give me your worse,” you challenge as you slip into unconsciousness.

Two weeks.

He had kept his distance for about two weeks. It was not as if he did not care or was not morbidly curious what the crash had done to you—his glances through the curtains did not tell him much-- but, after some debate, he had figured you needed time to recuperate before you would want his company. Two weeks, he figured, would be enough time for you to get back on your feet or, at least, for you to start wanting company.

His excuse to see you had come in the form of his brother’s newfound prideful boasting. Feigning insult was as good an excuse as any to go see you; after all, he just so happened to be in the neighborhood anyway, and it was normal to pop in to see someone if you were already just a couple blocks down, right? Sneaking away was easy enough—they would not mind his absence—and he, after much prep work, knew exactly how and why he was going to say the things he would to get in your good favor. The plan, he knows, would have gone swimmingly.

His plans seem asinine when he hears you crying.

His brothers do not cry much. He does not, either; it was a habit that they had all thoroughly bullied themselves out of when they were much younger and, if they still did, he knew nothing of it. His master did not encourage this, per se, but talked, then, frequently about the importance of maintaining a more stoic disposition and not allowing emotions to cripple you in battle. Practically, Donatello was satisfied with that explanation, having not properly cried for more than a year now. To hear the sound again, especially coming from you, was novel.

Novel, too, is how you are crying. The sound is less of actual sobbing and more of you being strangled, quiet gasps for air escaping your lips as you shake on the bed, curled in on yourself and clutching at your chest as if whatever pain you are experiencing is centered and can be relieved by something between your collarbones. His eyes, for the first time, trace the lines on your skin, your sleeves riding up your arms to reveal them to him, tears racing down and along the gash in your face. Everything about the scene, from the soft gasping of panic to your position to the heavy scarring, is completely foreign to him, rivaled only by one or two particularly hard nights when he and his brother were much younger.

He slides in through the window, leaning onto the bed. His fingers flick your lamp back on as he grabs your shivering shoulder tightly, shaking you awake as he mumbles words of encouragement. He is not sure if his help will be appreciated, if snapping you out of it was even what he is supposed to do in this situation, but now is not the time to think of that. You are in pain. He can offer you this kindness. “Wake up,” he pleads, not thinking of how this would look until your eyes snap open to look at him.

Immediately, the reality of the situation sets in, and he scrambles off the bed. ‘Why did I think that would be a good idea?’ Panic. ‘You just walked into her room like a fucking creep. See, now she’s going to—’

“Sorry.”

He blinks, looking up at you from his place on the floor. “Huh?”

You clear your throat, wiping the tears from your eye with your sleeve quickly as you bring your knees to your chest, voice hoarse. “Sorry,” you repeat. “That you… I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for, but I know I should be apologizing.”

He is completely dumbfounded.

Your eyes glance to the open window. “I should probably start closing and locking my window, right?” You rub the back of your neck, voice clearing the longer you talk. “It didn’t occur to me since I’m so high up, but if you guys can get in, The Foot can too, right?”

‘Why is she apologizing?’

You push the hair out of your face. ‘You need something, right? I—uh—need to stop saying ‘right’ so much.” You shake your head to clear it. “’ Sup?”

He hears himself mumble some bullshit out about being in the neighborhood.

You sigh. “Sorry.” You close your eyes. “I’m usually up later; I’ve been so tired lately.”

‘Is she serious right now?’ He is completely lost. ‘She was just crying her eyes out in her sleep and now she’s apologizing? Did I miss something?’ You are smiling now, eyes still bloodshot, as if the whole thing is a figment of his imagination, still shivering where you sit.

He rises to his feet, kneeling in front of you on the bed. “What was it about?”

You blink, seemingly confused. “Huh?”

“Your nightmare,” he clarifies. “You were crying. What was it about?”

You avert eye contact. “Nothing too crazy,” you shrug. “Just about the crash. Nothing too exciting.” If possible, he thinks the bags under your eyes are worse than the last time you saw him.

He takes your hands loosely, turning them palms up to look, for the first time, at the patchwork quilt that is now your skin. “What happened in it?” He runs his thumb along the lines, keeping his voice low; he remembers how that used to help when Mikey used to have fits when they were younger. Leonardo and Raphael were never good at that; they took better to being more violently snapped out of their moods, but, then again, they never had this kind of breakdown; theirs were always more driven by loathing, self or otherwise.

You pause, still not looking him in the face as your muscles relax. He remembers, vividly, how he had done something similar when you two had first met, how much better, health-wise, you looked. ‘How long has it been since then? Three months? A little less?’

You take a deep breath. “Just… family shit,” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you trace his frame loosely. “Fire.”

Your gaze is piercing as you finally look at him properly. He feels something catch in his throat as you bow your head.

“It’s my fault, you know.” Your voice is so soft, barely a whisper. “That they’re dead, I mean.”

The air is a suffocating blanket that smothers you both.

“I never told you, did I?” Your focus does not shift as it might have a bit ago. It is locked solely and intensely on him, taking in every detail of his expression. “How I died? How they died? Why I died?”

Hesitantly, he shakes his head. He thinks it best to just be quiet and let you talk. He does not think he has ever heard anyone speak in quite the same tones, ever looked at him quite the same way you are.

You take another breath. “I wanted to try my hand at baking.” You force your eyes to stay focused on his. “I was—still am—not good about sleep. I always slept bad, and never at the right times. I used to take pills for it, to try to get myself back on track.”

He sees where this is going.

“I thought I could still stay up as late as I was used to.” You glance to the side, stealing yourself a second before focusing back on the boy in front of you. “I sat down in my room, turned on a movie. I set a timer. I fell asleep.” You swallow, hands shaking in his. “I can’t smell well, either. I must not have smelled the burning.” Your lips curl in a bitter smile. “Sure as fuck felt it, though, when I woke up.”

He lets you finish.

You try to blink the tears out of your eyes. “They were asleep,” Your voice rises ever so slightly. “I fell asleep at two something. I woke up when they started yelling.” You purse your lips, face reddening in shame as your nostrils flair. “They were trying to get someone out of bed when the roof caved in above them. My door got blocked.”

You feel yourself smile.

“So,” you strain not to cry, “that, Donatello, is why I’m here and why I’m dead, and why I really do deserve to burn again.” You laugh. “Hell, my body count is rivaling some serial killers, so that’s… that’s certainly something.”

He lets go of your hands, face blank.

You lean forward, placing your hands on your knees. “I don’t blame you,” You wipe a wayward tear out of your eyes, trying to swallow the frog in your throat. “Fuck, man, I’d think less of me, too, if it were me.” You nod towards the window. “I get it if you want to leave, but I thought you might want to know why—”

He stops you mid-sentence, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to him.

Your arms lay slack at your sides as you try to process what is happening.

He does not say a word.

You break.

You burry your face into him, tears welling in your eyes as you let out a strangled sob. You hold onto him tightly as you struggle to breathe, body shaking as you wrap your own arms around him the best you can. The sound roars in your ears like thunder, the deafening quiet of the apartment punctuated only by your own cries. He gently holds you there, resting his head on top of yours. Each sound you make sounds as though you are physically being choked by your guilt, and his chest feels as though it is being crushed by an invisible hand as he listens to your pain.

Neither of you knows how long you stay like that.

He considers telling you a story from a long time ago, about some training he and his brothers had back then, but thought better of it; he does not want to upset you any more than you already are, and being in good company with someone like him may not be exactly what you need right now. Granted, he does not know what you do need, but he knows listening to him talk about bashing brains would not help your sensibilities any.

Instead, he stays quiet.

You pull away after a while, wiping your face off again as you mumble out an apology.

“Don’t apologize.” He clears his throat. “It’s good to cry; it releases endorphins.”

You smile at that. “Well,” you giggle tearfully, “if it releases endorphins.”

He smiles back, face flushing. You look good, he thinks, even with your face all red. He knows that, scientifically, there is probably a reason, but he cannot think of it right now.

He stands up. “I’ll get—”

You grab his hand tightly.

He looks back at you.

“Can I ask a favor?”

He blinks. “Of course,” he agrees easily. “Anything.”

You glance off. “Promise not to take it weird?”

He feels his heart rate increase. “Y-yeah,” he nods.

He feels you pull him gently back on the bed. “Can you stay here tonight?”

His eyes widen as they flicker between the mattress and you. “What,” he clarifies breathlessly, “like sleep with you?”

You nod.

“In the same bed?”

You hesitate, nod again.

He clears his throat, face heating again. “Like, actually?”

“If it wasn’t actually, I wouldn’t ask, would I?” You grip his hand tightly. “I just really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

‘Oh.’ He mentally kicks himself. ‘She’s scared. Don’t make her uncomfortable.’

“It’s alright if you don’t—”

He is extremely quick to reassure you that he is more than happy—‘Bad choice of wording.’—to stay tonight until you fall asleep, but that he would not stay the whole night as to not worry his brothers.

You nod in agreement. “That’s fine.” You rub the back of your neck. “Not sure I would be good company when I wake up, anyway; I still have class.”

“Oh, right.” He nods in understanding, pushing himself further onto the bed. “Which side…?”

You shrug. “Which way do you face?”

“I usually lie on my stomach.”

“Then it doesn’t matter.” You slide your sweatshirt over your head after a bit of squirming around, tossing it onto the couch.

His face is now scarlet. “Okay then,” he mumbles, laying down on the side away from the window. ‘Is she going to—no, stop that.’

You look over at him, face down on the mattress. You can almost feel the heat coming off him. “Are you alright there, buddy?”

He nods.

You shrug, laying down under the blanket and curling into him, facing the window. “Mind getting the light?”

He reaches over, clicking it off.

You sigh in content, turning to face him, teetering on the edge of the mattress. “I’m not venomous,” you inform him teasingly. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: of the two of us, you should not be the one who’s a nervous wreck.”

“You dunno that.” His voice is muffled by the bed.

“You’re the strong one,” you argue.

“So?” He turns his head to look at you. “I’m the guy laying in the—I’m just gonna stop that sentence.”

“It’s only bad if it isn’t consensual.” You smile reassuringly. “I invited you to lay with me, right? So, unless I make you uneasy, then we’re all good.”

He breaks eye contact. “So,” he clarifies, “you don’t mind if I move closer to you?”

You shake your head.

He hesitantly slides himself further onto the bed. “Can I move closer than this?”

“You’ve already seen me bawl my eyes out. You’re doing me a service. Move as close or as far as you want.”

He moves to press his side against you. “Is this fine?”

You nod. “Look, how about this?” You rest your arm under your head. “If you do something I’m uncomfortable with, the safe word is pina colada.”

‘We already have a safe word?’ He was not sure if he is on cloud nine or just terrified of you.

You are very confused why he looks so warm. “Do you need me to turn the AC on?”

He shakes his head. “I’m good,” he assures you tightly. Slowly, he reached an arm out and over your waist, pulling you closer. You do not seem to resist in any way, wrapping your good leg around one of his to pull him closer.

‘Conscious touching.’ He glances down at you, trying to act cool. ‘Conscious, intentional touching. She smells so nice and she feels—okay, this is not going to work if you keep being a perv.’

“Thanks,” you mumble, humming softly. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

Cloud nine. Definitely on cloud nine.

“Every time.”

You giggle.

He blinks. “What?”

“Every time,” you note, already nodding off. “Like in that book.”

‘Which one?’ “They wrote it down for a reason, right?” The longer he spends like this, the smoother he feels.

“Totally.” You smile, closing your eyes. “Just know that this goes both ways, alright? If you ever need help like this, you know who to call.”

This is new. ‘Help like this? What, like crying?’ His eyebrows furrow as he tries to understand what you mean. ‘Or he means if I ever need company in my—what did I just say?’

You pick up on his confusion. “Emotional help, I mean.” Your fingers trace the indentations in his shell absentmindedly. “I mean, I know sometimes I didn’t want to go to my family about stuff. I dunno if you have that…” you trail off, realizing that you might be unintentionally bashing his brothers. You sincerely do not want to blow this.

“I mean,” he says after a bit, “I think I get what you’re talking about.” He sighs. “You mean stuff that they’d make fun of me for, right?”

You nod.

He feels his heart melt a little. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

You forgot how safe he makes you feel. “Goodnight, Donnie,” you mumble sleepily.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You pass out not long after that. If he has to estimate a general amount of time, he will clock it in at about five minutes. He does not move, however, until about thirty minutes before sunrise, too busy listening to the sound of your breathing and memorizing how exactly your body feels next to his. As he slips out of the window, early morning air waking him back up completely, he wonders if, someday, he could stay to see you wake up next to him. Not out of necessity, but just because you both wanted to stay like that for a while more.

‘I hope so. It’s a nice dream to have, anyhow.’

Table of Contents

Chapter 9

Chapter 11

40 notes · View notes

shibalen · 3 years

Note

Hiii! could i request a bnha romantic matchup?(jewellerybox, musicbox) Any pronouns, you can call me Gigi, i’m 5’0, and pansexual.

i’m an ENFP, an aries, chaotic good/neutral. i’m very energetic, weird, disorganized, loud, honest, loyal, optimistic, creative, calm, empathetic, emotional, dramatic, active, airhead and aloof, indecisive, talkative, patient, moody. even though i’m vey energetic and talkative i’m pretty calm and can be quiet and bring my energy to a lower level to match other people’s around me.

i like collecting stuffed animals and random objects, i’m pretty competitive and aggressive, i also love competitive games especially just dance and mario kart, speaking of being aggressive i love physical fights(mainly play fights), i ask a lot of questions and kinda doze off a lot, i like to bake and i’m pretty good at it but i’m terrible at cooking, i’m sorta an airhead and out of touch with reality quite often i also get distracted quite easily, i can never tell when someone likes me even if it’s painfuly obvious, i love physical affection weather i’m giving or receiving like cuddles and hugs🥰, in general i’m quite a physical person when it comes to anything i love getting in there and doing things so i can’t stand sitting around and doing nothing unless i’m playing a video game, I really like preforming, loud noises, rain, sunsets, rainbows, music, food and sleep. i love animals especially little ones like frogs, snails, ducks, rabbits and cats, i love thunderstorms, and im really good at comforting and calming down people if they’re really stressed, sad or angry. i love romance stories or just casually seeing two people out on the street in love it just makes me happy. my sister is really hot headed and doesn’t like to admit she’s wrong so i’m used to dealing with her attitude and anger, but my parents and brother are pretty easy going and calmer so i’m also used to that, i hate spiders and the dark. i’ve been told i’m the cinnamon roll and crackhead of my friendgroup and great at giving advice although i suck at giving myself advice. i’m quite chaotic, clumsy, and random and i tend to do dangerous things with out thinking them through. i also love gymnastics, climbing things and obstacle courses. i like sunsets and going on walks or just being outside during them. i also love going on fun “adventures” with people. my cousins and i would make up new games to play all the time. i love snow and sledding but i hate the cold so i’m always bundled up. i procrastinate way too much and usually forget things. i get along with most people and i’m pretty open minded. i usually say what’s on my mind even oft it’s not appropriate for the moment, i’m fairly honest to people, and i love theatre even though i’m not the best singer at least my acting and dancing are decent. also thank you in advance 💛🐌

♡︎ matchup for anon

hi! this was a toughie but i finally came to the best decision (◡ ω ◡) put it under the cut because the request itself is already quite long. i hope you enjoy!!

bnha: i match you with . . .

ochako uraraka !!

• there are a lot of points to make but the biggest of them all is that how comfortable you would make each other feel. you have several similar traits such as bubbliness(?), honesty and positivity. in addition, with Ochako there's an endless stream of compliments, little favours and soft touches that assure you you're never alone.

• asdfghjk that was the first bullet and i'm already in love

• i think there is something very special about having a s/o that reacts to things the same way you do. it creates a bond without neither of you having to exchange long conversations. usually these are during moments of happiness or excitement that the two of you just click.

• the trust between you and Ocha is simply otherworldly. you're so open with each other, able to talk about almost anything and knowing you have someone who supports you regardless of anything.

• i am convinced she was crushing on you, her best friend, for the longest time. everything about you and what you did was mesmerising. Ocha stopped counting how many times she caught herself in a daze, staring at you with warm cheeks (´･ᴗ･`)

• you were so oblivious to her feelings though she wanted to cry. luckily there was Mina who called together a whole operation featuring most of class 1-A to get you two together!

• they worked so hard to get you alone or hint Ochako's feelings for you. it was almost comical how badly they failed each time though . . . when she was bummed out about the series of failures sitting by herself you asked her what was wrong.

• obviously she was too embarrassed to tell you but you began worrying that it was something much worse.

• "Ocha, you can tell me anything but i understand if you don't want to. i'll give you some space if that helps you feel better."

• The next second she leaped up, grabbing her hand in yours. "no, Gigi! it's not that."

• "i love you, Ochako. i will keep all of your secrets."

• "wait. . . you love me? like 'in love with me'?"

• "well. . . yeah"

• and so you ended up accidentally confessing instead ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Ochako almost faint and had to lie down but all's well that ends well.

• your energy and dramatic acts never fail to make her laugh. it's so infectious i swear both of you end up rolling on the floor and clutching your stomachs in laughter over something stupid.

• just because you're literally the most wholesome couple in existence doesn't mean you'll have any mercy on the other in any competition though.

• playing mario kart? banana peels and shells, this is war and we die like Daichi (oops wrong fandom—) on a brisky jog? y'all run a marathon just to win. though you probably simultaneously end up getting distracted by a cat or a rainbow aww

• if you can't take care of yourself Ochako sure will. she'll give you her best advice and remind you of your deadlines. she's not below taking away your cuddling rights either, don't test her >:(

• Ochako is the softest person to cuddle with! after an exhausting day of working of assignments she holds to close to her while you're both bundled in a blanket and snacking.

• whether you're chatting or watching a movie she usually ends up making you cute little hairdo, like piggytails or just putting colourful hairclips in your hair.

• your dates include sport dates which means just doing anything active like going climbing or long walks, going to theatres (usually nearby ones to support the local associations), chill movie nights which may or may not turn into tickle fights, and late night adventures ♡︎

♫︎ music box

— Gimmie Love by Joji

— Crush by Tessa Violet

— Bubble Tea by dark cat

— Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles

— we fell in love in october by girl in ocober

𑁍 jewellery box

— favourite memory with you

when both of you forgot the key to your dorm rooms so you slept on the common roo sofa for the night. it was before you got together so Ochako had to pretend she wasn't super nervous about the whole thing. then you thought she was cold and inviteed her to sleep on the same sofa so you could cuddle. surprisingly, Ochako did relax as you talked. it was the moment she became determined to confess to you.

— favourite activity to do together

going on small adventures together is enough to fill her to the brim with joy. it can be something as simple as going grocery shopping or running errands, really. with you she feels like anything can happen, that even the daily life can be full of small, wonderful things.

— favourite place to kiss you

it's not really a kiss but i'm telling you she can't stop blowing little raspberries on your arms. it starts out with cute kisses but eventually she can't resist herself. if you're alone in your room it might just escalate into a tickle fight.

— favourite nicknames for you

'Mochgi'. wait, don't go yet i can explain! you were eating mochi together when she asked you to pass her some more. she wanted to say "can you give me some more mochi, Gigi?" but it came out as "can go give me some more mochgi?" because her mouth was full. it became a thing for you to laugh about but actually Ochako kind of likes it now because it suits you.

— favourite thing about you

your open-minded approach to the world and your empathy. all Ochako ever wants to do is help people and make them smile—you seem to do so naturally without even trying. admittedly, she wishes she could be the same and deeply admires those traits in you. you have to remind her that she's perfect the way she is. in return she will likely refuse to let go of you for the rest of the day.

♡︎ runner up: Katsuki Bakugo (istg i was this close to matching you with him but i couldn't get the concept of Ochako and you out of my head)

i think i'm gonna have to give up on trying to schedule my writing because i fail each time. this took forever but thank you fpr being patient! happy new year and stay safe ♡︎

#len's matches #matchups #bnha matchups #dear anon

5 notes · View notes

ajokeformur-ray · 5 years

Note

ok so for the match up thing!! name is loren, im 20, a 5'2 tiny goth kiddo who looks always grumpy and has a dark sense of humor i guess. i study philosophy and i write for a theatre company because i don't have the guts to act!! im,,, a shy mess. never dated before although i had some casual sex but really it felt so empty that i choice not to have it anymore unless im in love honestly. i own a typewriter! and im always dancing in my room because it feels good and it helps me when im manic!

also I have BPD and I cling too much to people, like really depending by em if they’re my fave at the moment and im very jealous and have anger issues but I try my best to be nice or polite at least!! i love cats, snakes and ravens. i love cozy days when you do nothing at all except for laying under a blanket and watch the rain or little things like this! i like to cook and being Italian, i can cook very well. i have glasses but i hate how I do look with em so I don’t ever wear em.

i love arthur fleck so fucking much i literally would die for him because he needs to be spoiled and cuddled and just thinking about him makes me cry so loud- but i love the joker as well, of course, being the smug bastard he is!! and daydreaming about him helps me going through the day which it’s not always so easy because sometimes it’s just too much, you know

ohhhh I forgot I wear a shit load of make up like literally I look like Robert Smith most of the time and I don’t give a fuck about people opinions ai literally go to lessons dressed like a gothic doll most of the time

i’m also a night owl

Arthur Fleck (I know he’s angry in this GIF but fuck he’s hot)

word count: 1, 131

We don’t know Arthur’s real age, but Joaquin (the gorgeous man that he is) is 44, so let’s assume the same for Arthur for a touch of realism, shall we? That being said, this means that Arthur would be so hesitant to even talk to you because of your age. You see him staring, though, you see him following you sometimes wearing that thin yellow hoodie he seems to love, and so you decide to approach him. He’s instantly smitten.

You have a dark sense of humour and so does Arthur, so this is perfect for his ego. His comedy is a sore spot, it always has been, because no one supports this precious boi in anything he does and it’s really fucking sad. When he cracks a really dry, deadpan and dark joke and you burst out laughing, love just blooms in his chest and he falls in love with you a little more. How are you real? He’s convinced you’re a delusion he’s concocted sometimes, but he dares not question it. Anything is better than the truth. Anything.

You study philosophy, so your intellect is definitely above Arthur’s. His handwriting is really bad (in the cutest way? Imagine handwritten letters from him that are filled with smiley faces and words scribbled out like 1000000 times because he can’t spell it right until he gives up and uses a word he does know how to spell) and because of how impoverished he is, that suggests that he’s uneducated. As such, when you write an essay or an assignment or you complete some other work, he’d want to read it but he wouldn’t really understand some of the more technical stuff. He’s not at all stupid, he’s very clever, and I think sometimes he’d ask you a question late at night about the thing you’re studying just so he can go to sleep to the sound of your voice. With his weary head cushioned on your chest, your heartbeat in his ear, your voice and your hands in his hair, he’d be asleep in no time.

I feel like Arthur would really love the fact that you’re shy because that means it’s easier for him to assume the protective role? So, like, he’d find your shyness frankly adorable and if you ever got shy over him then it just becomes a circle of shyness before Arthur bursts out into uncontrollable laughter and you have to comfort him through a fit. Just squeeze his hand, patiently wait it out, and reap the rewards when he can breathe again and his lips are on yours as a thank you.

You love to dance and this… Oh, this is a quintessential part of your whole relationship. When it’s late at night and Arthur is listening to music on the radio, he’d approach you, his body already swaying to the beat, and his hands would find your hips and he’d dance with you, doing that really fucking attractive shoulder thing he does. It ends up with the two of you in the bedroom doing a different kind of dance, if you get my meaning ;) Arthur understands how simple things can help you when you’re feeling a certain way, so when you’re feeling manic it’s almost 1000% guaranteed that he’ll just start dancing with you until you’re so tired you don’t want to do anything anymore.

You have BPD and you cling to people, which would actually really reassure our boi. He would need near constant reassurance that you’re real, that you love him, that he’s not hallucinating your entire fucking existence, that you’re not going to leave etc, etc. In return for all the coddling you (gladly) give him, he would do anything for you. And I mean anything ;) he would let you cling to him in any meaning - physically, mentally, emotionally. Anything. “You’re my Loren, it’s my job to take care of you.” and he’d do it so well you’d be ruined for anyone else in your life. Ever. He’s a jealous boi and though he’d take you at your word, if someone wasn’t getting the memo he’d have to step in.

You both adore and live for cozy days inside his apartment. He has a special blanket that he likes to curl up under with you. It smells like the two of you and when either of you are missing the other because of work, studying or whatever else, then you huddle under it until the other returns. You can cook well, which is perfect because the best Arthur can do is really cheap microwave meals. He’s worryingly thin, not only because of the seven medicines he’s on but also because he just can’t afford to eat. It’d be really hard for him to even put any weight on, but at least you keep him regularly fed.

When you told Arthur that you would actually die for him and that you love him so much it just makes you cry sometimes, he’d be astounded. He’d just sit there, blinking for a few tense seconds before his throat rips with loud, intrusive laughter which is so hard and so uncontrollable that he can taste blood in the back of his throat. You’d hold him, love him, support him and cherish him and that right there means that he’s never going to leave you. Not ever. Sex with him reflects this. He’s so gentle, so tender and so loving that it makes your heart bleed. It’s not uncommon for one or both of you to actually cry during sex because you’re just so, so in love with each other that it hurts in the sweetest, most precious way.

You know who you are and you know what you want and you don’t give a fuck what people think about you. You wear what you want when you want and that’s such a fucking mood and Arthur would be so proud of you and he’d totally offer to do your makeup for you using his own work supplies! He’d be so careful and he’d giggle against the way your nose wrinkles when he’s a bit too careful with his brush and he’d want to kiss you again and again, ruining your makeup purposefully so he can stay closer to you for just a little longer and…. oh, I’m actually gonna cry writing this wow… (spoiler: I did.)

In the grand conclusion because wow I’ve rambled: you and Arthur have the sweetest, most precious relationship. It’s full of love. There are definite challenges, there are some arguments because things just get too much for the both of you sometimes and sometimes there’s more taking than giving on either side because that’s how it can be, but you never leave each other. Never, never, never.

Joker (fun fact when this part showed in the cinema I was with my mum and i legit went “Oh, fuck me” as in I properly moaned AND SHE HEARD ME. two weeks later and she still hasn’t said anything but I know she heard me)

word count: 1, 522

Whereas Arthur struggled to even think of talking to you because of the huge age gap, Joker really isn’t all that bothered. You’re a fully consenting adult who knows her own mind, so what’s the harm, right? So long as you’re both happy and comfortable with each other, he couldn’t care less. That being said, you’re 5′2 and Joker is 5′8 so there’d be some height teasing going on. He would put things up on a higher shelf in the kitchen just so he can come up behind you and ‘accidentally’ (on purpose) press his crotch up and into your bottom as he retrieves the item you’re after with a cocky grin on his face and fire in his eyes. Sexual teasing is a very normal part of your relationship and it’s a serious warning sign that he is not okay if he doesn’t do anything like that towards you all day.

You have a dark sense of humour and you look grumpy a lot of the time, which means that, often, Joker will practically bounce up to you and use his index fingers to make you smile. It wouldn’t take long for you to actually smile from his actions, though, and that’s exactly why he does everything that he does; because he knows you can’t resist him, the smug bastard. Oh, but you love him, and he know the depth of your love for him. He’s so very honoured by it, though his way of showing it is sometimes to murder someone who irritated you last Thursday and not ever telling you about it. He’s a strange one, but he’s so free that you find yourself not minding. Just so long as he’s happy; when Joker is down, it means that something is hugely wrong and it reminds you so badly of Arthur that it hurts and you might have to crack out some of his own jokes just to cheer him up. For example, if you handed him an actual human heart and said, “I love you, Joker”, he’d burst out into loud and genuine laughter and would end up smudging his makeup from kissing you so soundly. Isn’t he gorgeous?

Joker isn’t political, religious, or anything of the sort. He tells you and others that he doesn’t believe in anything. But there’s one thing he believes in. Just one. It’s the love you have for each other that he vehemently believes in. if anyone even dared to suggest that your love isn’t as strong as you say - she’s just scared of being killed, that’s why she’s with him, or what a freak! How can she stand to kiss him? - then he’d go fucking apeshit. The last person he overheard doubting your love for him ended up swallowing several bullets in quick succession. Overkill? Perhaps, but he doesn’t care. No one gets to doubt your love for each other, not even yourselves. He’d be very supportive of your studies and I have no doubt that, if you ever got a shaky grade, it’d be changed very quickly by a shaking tutor who can’t quite look you in the eye. The smiley face on the whiteboard which looks like a child did it clues you in hugely, though. His actions are wrong but it comes from a very heavily guarded heart of gold.

Where Arthur finds your shyness cute and he would immediately adopt Protective Mode™, Joker would just relentlessly tease you just to see how deep your blush goes. “That’s an interesting shade of red, Loren. Where have I seen it before? Ah, yes…” *Twirls and fingers the hem of his red tuxedo* Be warned, though… Only Joker gets to tease you about being shy. If anyone else dared to tease you for being shy or for stuttering or for tripping over your words and oh god shut up, he’d rip them a new one. Only he gets to tease you. He does, sometimes, wind you up on purpose, just to see how far he can push you before you snap and want to punch something. He finds it incredibly amusing. Deep down, though, he’d be just as protective as Arthur and would find himself doing things for you that you’re too shy to do; in whatever means you need! ;)

You dance because it helps you when you’re manic but also because you enjoy it. Just like with Arthur, this is absolutely essential in your relationship with Joker. A lot of the time when you’re dancing, he’d step in flawlessly and you’d start dancing together like Fred and Ginger, with him dipping you, spinning you around, lifting you up with surprising strength, and it’s one of his favourite ways (other than makeup sex) to apologise to you. “Dance with me.” Immediately would his hands grab you, spinning you, his intense green eyes never leaving yours, that damned smirk on his lips as he sees that blush rising on your face… Again, like with Arthur, you do several modes of dancing together; some are more preferable to others!

When you’re out and about together in public, you’re basically glued together. Your hands are held so tightly by the other that you’re not sure whose hands is whose and, are your fingers getting a bit numb? Both of you have jealousy and anger issues for slightly different reasons; Joker because it’s borne from a place of deeply set abuse and abandonment issues, and you have your own reasons that he may or may not know about. He finds it baffling that you get jealous over him, though. So many of Arthur’s neuroses still live on in Joker, despite his bravado. You try to be polite, but Joker makes no such efforts; he will destroy someone for even glancing at you in the street.

You both live for cosy days. These are the days during which Joker will relax his persona. He will cuddle with you, watching shows on TV, his fingers grazing along the underside of your breasts or even dipping under your underwear. You can arch your hips into his touch all you want, he’s not gonna give you what you want unless you’re patient. He loves foreplay more than the act itself; to him, anticipation heightens everything deliciously. You cook very well, and Joker would love to watch you cook. He enjoys the heat you summon into the bedroom, and he loves bending you over the counter, sweeping the dirty plates into the sink with a noisy crash (and you have to buy new plates at least once a week), and fucking you until you’re only upright because of his arm wound tightly around your waist.

You once told Joker that you often think of him when you’re not with him, just because he offers you comfort and support from wherever he is. Just knowing he’s somewhere in Gotham wreaking havoc or even waiting for you to get home makes you feel like you can conquer the fucking world, and he was flattered. He did get a little upset, though, when you confessed that you would actually die for him if you had to. He kills for you, and sometimes because of you without a thought, but turning that idea around onto you makes him feel hot in all the wrong ways. I actually think Joker would crawl into your arms that night, needing to feel that you were there, and real, and even now he’s wondering how you could possibly love him knowing all that he has done and will continue to do. He would make you promise to never keep your word on this topic, because no one is gonna be dying in this relationship. You and him are forever a ride or die. For better or for worse.

You stand together at the bathroom sink putting your faces on. Your shoulders are touching, which means sometimes your elbows bump into each other and one of you makes a mistake with the makeup. “Oh, would you look at that? My makeup’s ruined,” Joker would hum, “what are you going to do about it, darling?” There’s only one answer to this, and it’s the two of you kissing each other so passionately that you have to wash your faces off and start again. Who knows, maybe you don’t get to leave the bathroom that day. Makeup is one of the biggest expenditures in your small household, even with Joker knowing where to go to get the good stuff.

In conclusion: dating Joker would be so very different to dating Arthur, but there is love, compassion, trust, adoration, so much sex you’re surprised you can still walk most mornings (he can and will go multiple rounds with you in a day; he’s a horny fucker, is our Joker), and there are definitely more emotional challenges than there are any other, but you’ve learned to stick it out with him over the years, You’d never leave him for any reason, even if he murdered everyone in Gotham (and a lot of the time he’s sorely tempted to burn the city to the ground and start all over again).

#rebs-doom #Requests closed #requests open for joker 2019 #matchup #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #joker #joker imagine #joker x reader #joker (2019) imagine #joker 2019 imagine #joaquin phoenix #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix imagine #phoenix!joker #phoenix!joker imagine #phoenix!joker x reader #todd phillips

319 notes · View notes

ask-shakespearehigh · 5 years

Text

Q&A post with the Mods!!!!

This is going to be a long one oh boy

How strict is the delineation of creative control vis-a-vis characters/plays between the mods? (@pedanticlecturer)

We generally have the plays split up along lines of “what we know”— we have a list at the very beginning of the blog. Sometimes we’ll draw the others’ characters (mostly me drawing some of Star’s…) but even then the final say on characterization is up to the “main” mod for that play — mod aster

what aster said -- mod star

What is your favorite play? What is your favorite character in terms of how they were written in the source material? (@pedanticlecturer)

I think my favorite play overall is Macbeth, just because I like the vibes (and the fact that I too could kill Macbeth), the fact that you don’t say it’s name in theatres, and the fact that it’s a play I did a full read through and analysis of in class. Favorite character? Puck from Midsummer. — mod aster

uhhhh,, hmm. ive always had a soft spot for midsummer since i saw it with aster esp bc of how fun the costumes were. of the comedies it has the largest potential to be the most visually pleasing bc of the concept of fairies,,,and im gay and dramatic so i love that. id die if i got to costume design for midsummer,,,or be in it,,,yeah. fav character. hmm. probably mercutio?? i recently saw a version of romeo and juliet where mercutio was played by a woman and oh my god it was amazing!!! not to mention mercutio’s portrayal in baz luhrmann's INCREDIBLE version of r n j!!! (I based my mercutio design on him) he just spends the entire time making dick jokes. love that. -- mod star

How do you answer asks so fast? I mean it's great but I'm impressed 😂 (Anon)

Personally, it’s a mix of: notifications on, quick drawing speed, and using the blog to avoid my class work — mod aster

aster is fast and (as you can see from all of my answers) im lazey -- mod star

Are there any elements/characters of the plays you're covering that you would have liked to work into this blog's plot, but couldn't due to the constraints of the setting or the synthetic nature of the blog? (@pedanticlecturer)

I wanted to make everyone gay but unfortunately due to plot constraints we have to have some hets but that wont stop me from making it lgbt as possible. -- mod star

I did want to make The Tempest more of a central play, but it just didn’t translate well. Similarly, other supernatural elements like the witches in Macbeth. This isn’t so much a constraint mentioned, but my own time/energy means that I want to show the Macbeth backstory, in a specific format, but I can’t right now— mod aster

Is there a hierarchy of import when it comes to each play's individualized impact on shakespeare high's general arc? If so, what plays are crucial to the foundation of the story? Which ones did you do mostly for shits and giggles? (@pedanticlecturer)

This is phrased like an ACT question and i might not answer it right so sorry in advance but: mod aster and i only selected a few plays for each of us to do given we dont know all of shakespeare’s works, but we tend to put more emphasis on the the more well known. But it also comes down to 1. How much we have plotted out for each play and 2. What the followers ask about most. Our two most popular are hamlet and macbeth bc people are familiar w those but around march caesar always becomes relevant again. I didnt even have designs for some of the characters until someone asked about them. -- mod star

I would say the same as star— it generally comes down to what people ask about. I will say that the overall plot is sort of separated into “has happened” and “is happening”. Like, the human potion of Midsummer, Julius Caesar, and Macbeth are all in the “aftermath” portion, while Twelfth Night, Hamlet, and Romeo and Juliet, among others, are happening. We’re trying to incorporate as much as we can, and I don’t think any of them were really put in without some thought.— mod aster

What personal significance does shakespeare hold in ur guys' lives? (@pedanticlecturer)

I go to a theater school rn and so ive dealt w shakespeare (although not all of them) it also helps that i was in loves labours lost last year as moth and that i read hamlet and r n j. Theres also a theater in my state that always does One Big Shakespeare per season and they always do them super well!!! My love for shakespeare probably started w seeing midsummer at that theater w mod aster!!! So. Theater kid rights!! -- mod star

To be honest, I got back into Shakespeare Because of the blog. I’ve been friends with some people that got really Pretentious about Shakespeare, and it kinda put me off of it. I did have a book of abridged plays (the plays’ plots written out in prose, basically) that I read as a kid, which is what got me into not only the plots of a lot of the plays, but also the idea of having them illustrated. And, same as star, the theater in state does the One Big Shakespeare— and they tend to do some really cool things with the costumes, setting them in diff time periods. I haven’t been able to see any lately since I’ve moved, but they still slap. — mod aster

🥰😘💙🥰🥰💜💟🥰I 😍💗💚😍😍LOVE🖤🖤 YALL ♥️♥️🧡💛💚💝❣️💕💘💖💗💓💞💝❤️💛💜 okay now i have a question i swear— how long have the two of you been doing art??? and what were your first shakespeare plays??? (@hellaghosts)

Uhh i started drawing when i was like idk 12 and i have the giant boxes of sketchbooks to prove it!!! I moved to digital art at abt 14-15 but mostly stayed traditional until this yr when i got a Neat New Tablet so some of my sketchbooks are sitting abandoned rip. My first shakespeare was either romeo and juliet or midsummer nights dream and i love both of them v much!!! I have a very old piece of art that i did for r n j for my freshman class assignment on it and it hasnt aged well alsdjfjafd circa 2016 i think??? -- mod star

Oh man. I started drawing when I was about 10, but it was Bad. I don’t think I got much into drawing again until I was about 14? Sometime around the end of middle school/beginning of high school. I would say I started getting into drawing as more than doodling/coloring edits sometime around 2015-16? I would draw on my iPad with my finger, then I got a tablet for my computer, and now I pretty much stick to my iPad with an Apple Pencil. My first Shakespeare play was….. uh…… probably Midsummer???? I have No idea. We would go to plays when I was little, so I honestly don’t remember if I saw others before. It may have been Romeo and Juliet— I had that book where it was the original and the “modernized” with the little dog that explained things— which, if you know it makes sense, but if you don’t is probably a bonkers answer. — mod aster

Do you think this blog has like? An overarching thesis (be it b/c intentionally or simply b/c ur own take on the world has bled thru to the point where u believe it’s central to the piece at this point)? (@pedanticlecturer)

Not gonna lie, I had to read that like three times AND dm you to figure out what you were asking from us and all I have is “be gay, respect women, write your own happy endings”. — mod aster

This blog started with an ides of march shitpost and you think we have enough brain energy to write a whole thesis? I projected feelings of found family onto my half of the blog but idk if that counts. Be gay do crime 420 69 -- mod star

What’s the nature/rough dynamic of ur relationship? How do y’all know each other? (@pedanticlecturer)

Met mod aster when i was like 4 and even tho we didnt live close we became like, best friends although the Best part didnt start until we were like 13-ish and eventually we talked like non stop (about anime and homestuck. Yknow. 13 year old kid things) and we didnt see each other a lot bc of Distance and now its even worse bc aster is in colleg.,e but we consider each other siblings regardless of family bc we’re adopted into our own respective families so that bled over into our friendship and it would feel weird calling him anything other than my brother now. We’ve seen each other at our best and worst and if you really want a good insight on what we’re like as siblings watch griffin and justin mcelroy’s overview video of catlateral damage wherein i am griffin and he is the long suffering justin. -- mod star

Star is basically my long distance sibling and functionally the only cousin I recognize bc like their parents are basically an aunt and uncle and like our dads look enough alike that we’ve both accidentally gotten the wrong dad for a hug or similar so like. Anyways yeah Star is the Griffin to my Justin, complete with our absent middle brother who we love dearly— mod aster

Dubiously relevant q but what kind of music do y’all listen to when u do art (if that is indeed a habit either of u partake in) (@pedanticlecturer)

It can depend on the piece? I was working on some (unrelated) oc prints that were song-focused, and for those I just listened to said song on loop. Sometimes I have playlists. Sometimes I’ll just be in a Mood and throw a song on loop. But a lot of time for the blog, I’ll listen to The Adventure Zone for the billionth time, because I have Too Much Attention. I’ve also, on request from Star, linked the most recent “loop song”.— mod aster

I tend to obsess over the same like 3 songs every few weeks so those get listened to on repeat but it also depends on the tone of what im drawing or who im drawing i might genre switch bc of that. If im drawing ophelia i stick to lana del rey and if im drawing hamlet its the neighborhood, horatio is sufjan stevens etc. i have categorized,. Most of the characters i draw into different songs/genres/energies of music but not like i ever follow that. Sometimes i just pull up a really long nonsense video and forget to draw. Essentially: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ -- mod star

How’d y’all come up with ur pseudonyms? (@pedanticlecturer)

I love space so much and my main blog is starryeydsailor space gay rights!! Im also tiny and full of energy and bright so basically i;m star -- mod star

Uhhhh i was like “hey i want to do uhhhhhh flower?” And then I google searched flower names until I found one I liked —- mod aster

How did you end up deciding the rough timeline of events in canon? (@pedanticlecturer)

It’s mostly determined by like. How we choose per story? If that makes sense. Like, we just take story by story, and decide “is it happening, has it happened, and when?” And then we fit them together in relation to each other just by dint of. All existing at once. Like, I knew I wanted Macbeth to be in aftermath, because like, even though there’s no murder, the way I’ve translated it to the AU is still kinda heavy, and it’s something that I don’t know that I could do properly if it were happening right now. Also, it’s more interesting IMO to have them at different times. Tl;dr we wing it per story and slot them together— mod aster (mod star agrees I just can word better, in theory)

If you could tell the story of shakespeare high in a different format than an ask blog, would you? Obviously y'all are making very good use of the format, but would you want to write this as a animated series or like? a comic book? or is the form inseparable from the story? (@pedanticlecturer)

I kinda wanted to do a webcomic or maybe to plot develop through like, animatics but the element of surprise comes from the asks we get and really makes us think so the blog is a good start. We didnt think we’d get this far -- mod star

Pretty much what Star said— there are certain elements where it’d be neat to do as a comic or as an animatic. Like, the fantasy dream is like, an anthology webcomic of each story, where you can like, see other characters in the background and stuff. But to be honest, we develop a lot by what we’re asked— there was a post about developing worldbuilding by being asked questions and then pretending you’ve thought about the answer, and it’s not far off. Personally, it’s hard to just lay out a story, because I have a whole WORLD and what’s relevant? What are people interested in? It’s by getting questions that I can then focus in on an area to develop. And yeah, we Super didn’t think we’d get this far lmao — mod aster

Any headcanons about your characters that you don't think will ever come up on the blog through asks or plot posts? (@pedanticlecturer)

I could make a whole separate post for this!!!!! Mostly its voice headcanons (and by mostly i mean like 1 or 2) or relationship hcs!!!! -- mod star

Honestly same. I don’t think I have voice headcanons for mine, though I bet I could find some. I’ve got a bunch of miscellaneous headcanons that just kinda float around, but like they’re scattered, too numerous for this post, and also not always things I’m sure are canon yet.— mod aster

#mod post #mod aster #mod star #q and a #birthday #we cant seem to read more AND tag so like brb gonna go kill god

5 notes · View notes