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side-effect-of-the-meds · 4 years

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Hey! There's this hc that's been on my mind for a while now but it's a bit dark so I've kinda been scared to ask people about it because IDK how it'd go down.... Okay, it's AFTG, and: What if after Aaron's trial with the whole Thanksgiving thingy they propose Aaron should be on mood altering drugs? What would happen? What would people do?? Also I know there are some fanpeople that don't like how Andrew's medication was represented in the books so I completely understand if you'd rather not reply

I’m sorry this took so long and I’m sorry for my recent inactivity. I’m still not ready to come back from my surprise hiatus but here’s this. It’s largely unedited so please forgive my bullshit. Thanks so much for the ask, love <3

“Aaron Minyard was oft-referred to as "the normal one" of the two, though that was usually followed by a debate over whether or not he could be sane when he shared genes with Andrew.”

Anyone with half a brain knows that Aaron doesn’t need the drugs. Hell, anyone with half a brain would have known better than to put a minor on something so strong but Andrew was on them for like 4 yrs + Exy is a thing so obviously no one in this universe has a single functioning brain cell. Another thing to be considered is that Aaron is a rehabilitated drug addict. He’s been sober (or as close to sober as he’s going to get) since he was 16. In the real world, I seriously doubt they’d put him on anti-psychotics, especially considering his past. But this is The Foxhole Court and I’m invoking suspension of disbelief.

Screams reverberated through Aaron’s head. There weren’t many words Aaron could discern amid the broken sobs and dry heaving. The overwhelming stench of vomit hit his nostrils. Pain shot through his left arm. It was likely dislocated from ramming it into the door at an odd angle. Staggering to his feet, Aaron saw himself in the mirror. Dark circles rimmed his bloodshot eyes. A cruel smile slowly curled the lips of his reflection. Andrew. Swinging a punch at him with his good hand, the mirror shattered. Shards of glass embedded themselves into his fist. Blood ran in rivers down his arms.

His surroundings distorted, exchanging the soft glow of yellow bulbs for the harsh glow of fluorescents. The blood was gone along with the mirror shards. In their place was a motley of scars. None of them seemed too severe. The acrid smell of smoke clung to the air and mixed with the alcohol and vomit, making Aaron’s stomach roil. The sound of someone retching caught Aaron’s attention. Whirling around, Aaron felt his heart stutter. Matt lay twitching on the floor in a pool of his own spew.

“That’s what you looked like,” Andrew said from beside Aaron. “Pathetic.” The word echoed through Aaron’s head.

“Aaron?” Nicky said, laying a hand on his shoulder. Aaron jerked away from him as though he’d been burned. Nicky’s face crumpled. Aaron’s gaze darted around the room.Taking stock of his surroundings helped ground him. Overstuffed chairs lined one of the walls. Three sofas boxed off the corner they were sat in. Orange fox prints decorated the white walls, a name, number, and photograph at the center of each. Aaron was back at the Foxhole Court.

“I told you not to touch him.” Andrew’s voice froze the blood in Aaron’s veins. Stalking forward from the corner he’d been standing in, he moved to stand in front of Aaron. Cold brown eyes identical to Aaron’s own now held his gaze. Aaron wanted to look away but, as always, there was something about his brother’s eyes that never failed to command his attention.

“How’s he going to play if he’s medicated?” Kevin asked. Aaron felt his heart sink. After spending two years with him, Aaron should have known better than to expect Kevin to care about anything other than Exy but he couldn’t help it. Just as he’d begun to think that the last few months had meant something, Kevin squashed the tiny bud of hope that had blossomed in Aaron’s heart.

“How are you going to play if I break your other arm?” Andrew snarled. Aaron watched the color drain from Kevin’s face. A part of him wanted to smirk in Kevin’s face. It served the asshole right. All Kevin ever thought about was Exy. Exy and himself. Half of the things the foxes had been through could have been avoided had it not been for Kevin. They wouldn’t have suffered the graffiti attacks nor would they have been constantly dogged by the media. They sure as shit wouldn’t have had Neil and the mafia to contend with had Kevin not been such a selfish asshole, insisting on dragging that good-for-nothing junkie out of the middle of bumfuck Arizona.

A larger part of Aaron wanted to cradle Kevin in his arms and protect him from Andrew’s wrath. Had Kevin not run, Aaron would never have had the chance to feel the press of Kevin’s vodka drenched lips on his. He definitely wouldn’t have had the chance to hear the soft keening moans that fell from Kevin’s lips when Aaron fucked into him. Worst of all, there would be no soft smiles or lazy kisses before Kevin drifted off to sleep.

“Andrew,” Neil’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. Well, not really. Neil’s voice was always gentle when he spoke to Andrew. Gentle and tender and full of love. Aaron couldn’t help but notice the way his brother’s brow softened and his shoulders drooped. Fuck you, Neil Josten.

The door down the hall slammed shut. The sound of Coach Wymack’s footsteps echoed in the silence. Taking a moment to glance around the assemblage, Wymack read the room and decided it was best not to say anything. Instead, he held out a plastic bag. Aaron’s hand shook as he accepted it. A paper bag resided within the first. Extracting it, Aaron read the label. He’d seen the label a thousand times before but, up until today, it had always borne his brother’s name.

Pills rattled ominously inside. Sweat slicked Aaron’s palms. Upending the second bag, the sight of the orange bottle jarred Aaron to his core. Andrew took the bottle from Aaron’s lap and squatted in front of him.

“Two pills in the morning after breakfast,” he said.

“And two again at 4,” Aaron finished. Andrew pried Aaron’s hand open before unscrewing the cap. Tipping two pills into Aaron’s palm, Andrew lay a hand on the back of his neck. Aaron knew his brother struggled to express his emotions but this was one gesture Aaron had learnt to recognize. It was a gesture of comfort meant to offer support. Staring into his brother’s eyes, Aaron forced himself to bring the pills to his lips. He swallowed them dry, painfully aware of every inch of their passage down his throat.

Anyone watching knew that Aaron’s descent into madness was swift. Aaron himself didn’t know that, though. To him, time seemed to slow. Staring down at his hands, Aaron flexed his fingers. Were those his fingers? Maybe. Maybe not. Aaron opened his mouth and felt the skin around it stretch. Laughter bubbled out of him at the odd sensation.

“Aaron?” Nicky asked. Aaron turned his gaze to his cousin and a smile split his face. Once again, the odd sensation of his skin drawing taut left him in a fit of giggles.

“It hurts,” Aaron said.

“What hurts?” Kevin demanded.

“Looking at your face,” Aaron replied. Had the words passed anyone else’s lips, Kevin’s anger might have flared to life. Instead, any remaining signs of life seemed to drain from him. Now it really did hurt.

Nicky had always told Aaron that if you looked at something over and over again, you would eventually get it. Perhaps it was because seeing the reward would motivate a person to work towards their goal, but no matter how much Aaron looked at Kevin nor how hard he worked, Aaron knew Kevin would never truly be his. Why he kept tormenting himself by staring at him, Aaron didn’t know. Maybe he was just as self-destructive as Andrew.

Sadness welled up in Aaron’s chest. A bone deep yearning had settled into him long ago but he suddenly felt the full intensity of-

“Stickball!” Aaron cried as Neil wheeled the racquet cart out. Rocketing out of his seat, Aaron caught his brother’s arm and yanked it hard. “Andy, come play stickball with me!”

“Play what?” Kevin squawked.

“Who?” Andrew choked at the same time.

“Stickball, Andy,” Neil said. A smile curled the edges of his lips. Kevin opened his mouth to say something but Aaron didn’t stick around to hear. Instead, he followed after Neil chanting ‘Stick! Ball! Stick! Ball!’, dragging Andrew along behind him.

So that gives you a general idea of Aaron’s madness.

Unlike Andrew, Aaron doesn’t really fight his meds. Where Andrew was terrified of not being able to properly watch out for his family, Aaron finds himself freed from all his anxieties. As such, he’s quite content with drifting through his life. I’ve always hc’d the twins as ADHD but are undiagnosed so it’s just a more intense version of how he normally is.

In the last two years, Aaron’s managed to make quite a few friends so they do their best to support him. Since he can’t focus very well and is no longer burdened by his anxieties, I feel like he also kinda relaxes around them??? Like he’s not as awkward. Very easy, breezy, joking around all the time. They really enjoy how much he’s opened up but they care a lot about him and are scared because they don’t know how to help him with class. What ends up happening is Katelyn is an absolute sweetheart. She convinces all of their friends to sit at the front of the room to record the lectures and upload them to a drive along with any extra notes that’ll help Aaron.

All the Foxes have to go to tutoring but Aaron’s tutor gave up the second he started his meds. After getting special permission from Wymack, they cut that time out and changed up the practice schedules a bit so Aaron could get out early and head back to Fox Tower. Once he’s made it through withdrawal, Katelyn will sit him down and help him work through his assignments. She’s a godsend.

Aaron is usually off his meds on weekends. He usually goes out to Columbia with the Monsters. He still dances with Nicky and has his fair share of fun. They go to the mall pretty often bc there’s a carousel with spinning tea cups. The twins have spent an entire afternoon riding the spinning tea cups, competing to see who hurls first. Aaron almost always wins. Andrew will take him out late Saturday nights and speed down closed sections of highways or do donuts in parking lots because they're both dumbasses with death wishes.

One weekend a month, Aaron remains at Fox Tower with Katelyn for spa day where they wax poetic about their respective crushes. Kate’s got a bit of a thing for a boy on the lacrosse team. Aaron screams bc he hates the guy. One time, at a party, the dude was talking to Kevin, shit talking both Kayleigh and Exy, completely unaware of exactly who he was talking to. Kevin ended up with a blackeye but the lacrosse kid couldn’t play for nearly two months.

Speaking of Kevin, he’s only thing that ever seems to hold any of Aaron’s attention. He’s just so… pretty. If Exy is Neil’s shiny object, then Kevin is Aaron’s. Since Aaron makes even less of an effort to pay attention than Andrew did, there's times when he straight up can’t play. It infuriates Kevin to the point where Aaron gets pulled off the court. At first he doesn’t mind because it means that he can sit back and watch Kevin without any fear of getting caught. However, ever since he got put on his meds, Kevin hasn’t touched him. Not even in a non-sexual way. Before, there were casual touches: a hand on the small of Aaron’s back, shoulders pressed together as they squished into a booth, ankles hooked beneath the table. Now? There’s nothing. Kevin leaves a conspicuous space between himself and Aaron and it’s the only thing Aaron can feel anymore.

So he starts paying attention on the court. Whenever they have a scrimmage, Aaron makes sure that he’s marking Kevin. Everytime Kevin crashes into him, Aaron’s consciousness slams back into his body. The heat of Kevin’s skin on his, their limbs tangled together, their ragged breaths intermingling, their helmets the only thing keeping their mouths from colliding together. Those little encounters are the only times when Aaron finally feels like himself. Those little encounters only last a few seconds and leave Aaron craving more, more, more.

Aaron noticed that medicated Andrew was always brushing up against Neil but he’d never really thought much of it. Now he understood. Andrew had craved Neil just as Aaron craved Kevin.

Speaking of Neil, he and Aaron get along well? I feel like Aaron is just as much of a smart mouth as Neil so the two of them just go around roasting the shit out of everyone. The drugs don’t change Aaron’s opinion of Neil but he begins to understand why Andrew broke their deal. Realizing that Neil didn’t steal his brother from him, Aaron starts to see the appeal in him. He’s stupid and funny and actually kind of pretty. Not as pretty as Kevin but pretty nonetheless. On weekends in Columbia, Aaron begins to notice all the things Neil does for his brother. Neil wakes up early in the morning to make breakfast and spends hours in the kitchen baking. He always picks up an extra pint of ice cream at the store and takes photos of stray cats to send Andrew. One time, Aaron couldn’t sleep and went to the kitchen for some water. His heart almost stopped when he heard Andrew’s rumbling laughter. Sneaking a peek around the corner, his heart really did stutter. Neil was standing on Andrew’s feet as he waltzed around the kitchen to the soft strains of music flowing from the radio. After aaron’s heart restarted, he hurried away because OH MY GOD ANDREW WAS LAUGHING AND DANCING AND HOLDING NEIL SO TENDERLY AND OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD

Okay so maybe Neil did sic the mafia on them but he also makes Andrew happy so that evens it out right? It’s v slow but Aaron is very slowly learning to accept Neil.

Slipping back to his room, Aaron placed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart racing a mile a minute. Off his meds, Aaron found it hard to stem the surge of jealousy threatening to overwhelm him. He was glad Andrew had found someone who loved him the way he deserved to be but didn’t Aaron deserve love too?

A soft knock sounded behind him. Aaron nearly leapt out of his skin at the sound. Oh, fuck. What it was Andrew? What if he’d seen him? With shaking hands, Aaron opened the door. For the second time that night, Aaron’s heart stopped.

Vodka stained lips crashed against his. Aaron’s mouth opened on impact and he felt the warm slide of Kevin’s tongue on his. A moan tore from Kevin, reverberating down Aaron’s thought. It was a shot right to his core. Suddenly, Aaron’s clothes felt too tight, his body too warm. Grabbing the collar of Kevin’s shirt, Aaron hauled him into the room.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Aaron panted as he tore himself away from Kevin.

“Missed you,” Kevin slurred as he leaned back in. Aaron shoved him away, sending Kevin crashing into the wall. The look of anguish that washed over Kevin’s features threatened to tear Aaron’s heart out of his chest.

“You haven’t come near me in months,” Aaron hissed. “Why now?” Kevin opened his mouth but nothing came out. He tried two more times before dropping his gaze.

“Because I got scared.” Wrapping his arms around himself, Kevin retreated into his shoulders. “No one’s ever made me feel like this before. All day, all night, you’re all I ever think about.”

“You don’t think about me on the court,” Aaron sneered.

“And you don’t watch me from the sidelines.” Aaron felt the blood rush to his face. It had been years since Aaron had prayed but now he begged God to bend the shadows of his room to hide the burning of his ears. “Exy was all I’ve ever had. Back then, I played to stay alive but now… now I play because I know you can’t take your eyes off me when I do.” Kevin reached out slowly, giving Aaron time to move away. Relief flooded his face when Aaron didn’t flinch. As Kevin’s hand cupped his face, Aaron leaned into the touch. Pulling their bodies flush against one another, Kevin bent down enough to rest his forehead against Aaron’s. “I don’t want Exy to be the only thing I love anymore.”

“Then pick something,” Aaron whispered. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribcage as though it was trying to escape. He knew what was coming but nothing prepared him for actually hearing it.

“ I pick you,” Kevin replied. Their lips collided once more and Aaron let Kevin steer them to the bed. Collapsing onto it in a tangle of limbs, Aaron felt like himself for the first time in months.

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strawberryybird · 4 years

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I really like themes about destiny and fate and historical parallels so Byleth being fated to oppose Edelgard because she’s Saint Seiros/Sothis to Edelgard’s Nemesis really gets me. And then in CF Byleth chooses to defy their fate and join Edelgard and becomes the Saint Seiros to Edelgard’s Wilhelm.

OH ANON u get me.. oh Heck YEAH!!! and if there’s anything i Like More than a story about destiny and cyclical fates, it’s characters breaking out of it !!! .. so ofc awakening is my favourite game i’ve ever played, out of every game ever.

the seiros-wilhelm comparison didn’t even occur to me (and i had to look him on on the wiki lol) but Holy Smokes that’s added a whole new dimension bc now it’s arguable that CF route/ Edelgard wasn’t defying any kind of fate at all - because it’s the same path from a different perspective. (would that cast d*mitri as nemisis? idk this game’s story lmao) and its... it begs the question if either Eagles routes truly offer a changed future/story? or do they end in an “Emmeryn jumping anyway”, because neither truly breaks away from the original roles?

HHH wait that would tentatively cast Rhea as Nemesis & Oh BOY im living for that monsterous/unhuman villain angle and the whole ‘gone off the rails with Magic Power’ angle they both have (?? tentatively oh so tentatively)

(but don’t get me wrong im weak and i like the edelgard-nemesis comparison very much because a) im gay for those kinda characters, b) cyclical fate bitch, c) y’all know that iconic shot of the silver snow sword clash cut scene? it SENDS me knowing the sword of the creator has changed sides since the opening skit & it’s changed hands from ‘nemesis’ to ‘seiros’ hhhhh)

i’m really not qualified to talk about this game yet bc ive only finished CF myself (but i have seen my brother play the other 3 routes & know the skeletons++ of them) but the idea that byleth parallels with seiros, not necessarily (just) sothis has been rattling around in the back of my brain for a While!! but ive forgotten how to put one word in front of the other & i’ve lost the thread of my thought.

ok having said all that that.. i feel the need to say i look at stories from a Very secondary school class english lit perspective & think A Lot about themes and allegories and All That Jazz. thats just what i do lmao. so im rlly not good at meta lmao

damn. anon u gave me Thoughts. thank u!!

#ask #anon #spoilers #if this is super incoherent im So Sorry & ur an angel for sitting thru it lmao #also bc i like spelling things out.. anon is in no way affiliated with these thoughts of mine #im just using the ask as a riff #just in case ??#anyway thank u for the ask!!!!!#im always here to wax lyrical about three houses shite in a level eng lit style hehehehe #also bc i fear for my life every time i post things like this .. in no way is this gospel truth #just me going ham on the 'what if' button in my literature braincell #i really shouldn't have had that cup of tea i can't hold my thoughts together lmao

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diningpageantry · 5 years

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Fic based on the song Came in Close by pale waves ??

(ok so like background is–7th year canon diverge that simon and agatha never dated because they just don’t idk why not–also it got long so more under the cut)

“I don’t like the idea of a stake out,” Snow huffs, buttoning his blazer as we settle alone in the side closet, seemingly trying to measure out the space with his eyes so he can strategically stay as far away from me as possible. Of course he doesn’t. He likes charge and attack.

“What’s your plan? Accuse a professor of being a shapeshifter casually?”

He shrugs, looking down as he casually steps back and away from me. “Maybe.”

I scoff over at him, pushing my hair back as I draw out my wand. He flinches, at first, then watches me raise it up to the air above us and utter a spell. “Première étoile que je vois ce soir.”

We both watch as a soft, glowing ball forms above us, illuminating the contained space and leaving us washed in warm yellow. When I’m looking back, though, he’s looking away, running a hand back through his hair before tugging it and plopping down onto the floor.

I sit against the door slowly, unbuttoning my blazer and drawing one knee while the other half folded and settled onto the dusty ground, knocking into a shelving unit full of textbooks.

“What if we made a mistake?”

My head snaps up, eyebrows narrowing at him. “What do you mean ‘mistake’?”

“You know.”

“What if we mistakenly witnessed a teacher wick into a cloud of smoke, then reappear back as a student that neither of us recognize nor have even seen before? And then, a day or two later, that same student tries to get all buddy buddy with you. But we’re mistaken? Is that what you’re asking?”

He shrugs again. “We could’ve seen it wrong?”

I wonder what’s rattling around inside his skull, because it’s definitely not a brain. “Ah yes, we both witnessed a single occurrence outside a teacher’s room, and it was a complete misunderstanding. We just, I don’t know, took the same hallucinogen coincidentally at the same time, resulting in the same hallucination.”

The broom beside him rattles as he shifts against it, staring off into his hands as we sit in a bitingly cold silence. I know this is what I get for being a dick to him. Awkward silences, long, uncomfortable stares, and cold glances. In the past years, he’d hit me, but since growing up a bit made us both a bit more stable, we just get angry or get silent.

I look at my palms, then my knuckles. Watch the way they curve and stress into a fist, then relax back into soft ridges and large flats. I know these knuckles are one of the only things on my body that’ve touched Snow’s skin, and that’s not a matter bound to change.

“So what are the plans?” he tries, still refusing to look at me.

I act similarly, not wanting to make an uneven draw of attention. “We wait. Someone’s got to come in here sometime, and it shouldn’t be forever–classes start again in an hour.”

He nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right. Missing lunch.”

Shit. Forgot to give him that.

I dig into my bookbag, pulling out a wrapped sandwich and an apple and toss them his way. “Stop complaining, it’s giving me a headache.”

He stares at them, then stares at me, and goes right to dig in. Staying across, I watch him, knowing I can’t help myself. Even when he’s a slob, he’s a magnet for my attention.

Half the sandwich in, and he stares up at me, giving me a smile that makes my heart jump. “Seven years into knowing me and you don’t know I prefer turkey to ham?” he jokes, a mouthful of food and still chewing. I should be gagging, but instead I’m taking a moment to drink in his gaze.

“I didn’t have to snag you anything at all.”

He shrugs again, shoving the food back into his mouth. In hopes to distract myself, I pull out a book, starting to read in the (almost) silence.

The light isn’t the best, so holding the book is a bit awkward, but I get the hang of it. I can’t get far into it, though, without Snow trying to question me on the topic of it.

“What’s that?”

“A book, Snow. Ever touched one?”

I can hear him huff, not looking up but knowing the exact scowl he’d be wearing.

“I meant, what’s it about?”

“The AIDS crisis,” I mumble. When I finally look up, he’s squinting across and nodding at me. “Snow, please tell me you know what the AIDs crisis was.”

“No, I know, mostly. I just…”

“You just what?”

He shrugs, rubbing his neck. “I… uh…. nevermind.”

“Spit it out, Snow.”

He frowns. “’S just, that’s a very specific topic.”

“Yes?”

“Not–not a lot of people are interested, that’s all.”

“Are you implying something, Snow?”

He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head. “No! It’s just…. the topic is…” he looks away, shutting himself up.

I figure to leave it, too, knowing full well what he was getting at. Say it, Snow. Just say it.

Instead, we sit in silence. I don’t think much’ll happen for a bit–not until I hear the scuffle of standing feet, then feel him plop back down next to me. I frown instinctively, head snapping to the side as my book closes lightly on my finger holding the place. “What?”

He looks at the cover. “What if you read to pass time?”

“You think I want to read aloud to you?”

He shakes his head, then shrugs. “It’d pass time.”

I suppose he’s right, but a number of things could pass time. Like, for example, me eating the rat poison near the corner. It’s save plenty of time, me being dead.

Still, I find myself opening the book back up, finding my place, and clearing my throat before starting to read aloud. I go slowly, knowing he can’t follow whenever people talk too far, and follow the words along with my finger, in case he’s reading over my shoulder.

It’s a bit embarrassing, talking about an intimate subject. Not the virus and disease, but instead the blood. The talk of blood, the idea of blood between us is still a sore spot that’ll ache until I’m as far from him as possible.

We get to the end of a section and he stops, head almost drooping. “Can I rest?” he asks.

I immediately stiffen, but nod, eyes focusing intently on the page as his head settles onto my shoulder. It rests warmly, comfortingly, making my head spin as I try to focus on the page.

What if I just settled my hand on his? Or grazed his thigh? How hard would he hit me and run?

His side comes in close, then grazes my skin, resting gently as I try to read again. But, instead, this time I jumble a few words, reading too fast and tripping over everyday phrases. I try to slow myself, then get nervous and go too fast, and all the while, he’s warmly up against me, listening to the words and picking up his head on occasion.

I bite on my lip, taking a deep breath and he lifts his head.

“What is it, Snow?” I bite, quickly covering up my tracks as he watches me with caution.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” I exhale again, shaking my head and snapping the book shut.

He looks over me, still in breathing distance as I’m shoving it into the bag. “No.”

“What?”

“Something happened. You never get all worked up over nothing. Was it me?”

“Why would it be you?” I speak too quickly, fully keeping my back to him as we sit.

“Because it started…” He stops himself, shaking his head. “Baz?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry?”

“For what?”

“Making you uncomfortable.”

I wasn’t uncomfortable, Snow. I was nervous. Eager to impress. Wanting more. “Whatever.”

He shifts, still keeping our legs brushing. “Aren’t you gonna take it?”

“The apology that means nothing? No.”

“It meant something!”

“You were apologizing for something that didn’t even happen. It means nothing.”

“What… do you mean didn’t happen?”

Shit. “Nothing, Snow. Shut it. We’re here to wait, not chat.”

He grabs my hand, quite forcefully, and it jolts me. “What is it?”

I look at him and yank my hand away. “You are. You’re what happened. Now shut it.”

We’re dead silent, only the small light floating above us.

“What… does that…”

“Nothing!” I snap, hands flying up. “I means nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero. It means fuck off.”

He frowns deeper, reaching back for my hands like the stubborn bastard he is. “But…”

I stop, looking over at him nervously and exhaling. We stay silent, staring at one another as he holds onto my now shaking hands. He moves to sit facing me, lips twitching. “How do I fix it?”

“You can’t.”

“Well, what caused it?”

I’m silent, staring down at his lap.

For once, I think he has a bright moment and realises it. “Oh,” he whispers.

I close my eyes, waiting for an impact that doesn’t even come. Instead, I get a few quiet words.

“So what does this do?”

I feel his hand turn around mine, holding them properly as I swallow and pull one of his moves and shrug.

He scoots a little closer. “Okay. What about this?”

Without expecting it, I feel a soft bump of lips against my cheek. Looking over, I see him inches from me. I dumbly shrug again, mouth hanging open.

He smiles that unexpected, sweet smile again. “What if I kissed you?”

“I don’t know, what if you did?”

And then he kisses me.

I stiffen against him, then smooth back out all at once, curling my fingers around his as I try and kiss him back, then jolt when the door to the main room opens. We jolt apart, his cheeks rosy pink as we hear the voice of The Mage and our Professor out in the room, speaking loud enough to hear.

“So how’s the studying on the Pitch boy going?”

#anï rambles #asks #anon #ask game #ficlet #fic #mine

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tyromelee · 7 years

Text

7/6/17

It’s been a long week of melee. Been practicing hard and had a full weekend of playing at BMR and afterward.

There were a couple things I’ve learned this week. In no particular order I’m just gonna roll with it.

1. I suck at this game while drunk. I shot lasers at a reflector fox and was so mad about it. Don’t ever think you’re so good that you can play inebriated vs someone who isn’t.

2. You’re a lot better than you think you are. That win vs gato was commanding, you’ve come a long way. The ability for you to beat Anyone fucked up is kind of astounding. You’re holding your own in tournaments and are on the comeup don’t forget it.

3. You’ve got even further to go than imagined. The consistent four stocks from Kaeon and Kpan were fucking brutal. Hours of getting rekt. There’s a level of conception I just don’t get yet and it’s kind of rattling me. Dash is once again convinced that I need to develop my ground game, I barely know what that means it has me thrown for a loop. My ground baits are pretty basic, all my emphasis on platform movement has made it very neat looking and sometimes effective, but I know it can be better.

I felt so SLOW against kpan. I’m not sure if it was wholly just better decision making on his end or more awareness of situations or actual quickness but he felt largely more capable than me. It was like playing cam all over again. The few games I took were definitely notable for my ability to execute combos and find gimps, and I was impressed at my ability to circle around with lasers. But ultimately I felt pretty incompetent. He picked apart my bad habits.

Every time I’d roll to center Kpan would get a heavy punish off of it. Every time I tried to recover vs kaeon he had me blocked out with a low rising bair that I couldn’t seem to squeeze under. Every time I tried to recover high against kpan he had me with a back air on the way down. It was brutal.

4. Glad I won against sharkz’ samus and finally got a redemption set vs darius, but monday felt like a total bust. Losing to hifi for the first time felt like shit, I felt like I was sluggish all day, I always feel sluggish after driving to ECG. And losing to chi again was horrible. It’s never that chi plays bad, I just want to fucking kick myself everytime I drop an edgeguard because my brain’s going spastic at all the ways I could do it. Like this time I regular getup’d from ledge on time and tried to charge a downsmash that ended up being a downtilt facing the wrong way. I could’ve fucking slapped the cstick and pulled out an advantage. Then idk it’s like a trigger goes off and chi just regains his footing and sheiks me up I fucking hate it. I was playing so well against the other sheiks at BMR. I annihilated fizz. Why can’t I do that to regular sheiks. Chi’s pretty fucking good I guess.

5. Held my own really well against lower foxes than kaeon. managed to take a game against LOZR with a flippy kick suicide dair that I wasn’t sure would gimp but I’m so glad it did. 1/3 is actually pretty fucking good lol, and he was only 3 beers deep. Took the marbles permanently but this is the only place I’ll ever brag about that. Maybe I can try stealing his edgeguard by doing shine bair. that would look cool as fuck actually. But yeah cohenski and typo and others I was totally holding my own with.

6. I feel unsatisfied just going even with someone now. I want to rail them. I want to beat them until I’m sick of beating them. Until I get that familiar notion that I feel bad for beating them so much. I want to get way better, but I need to do a lot of vod review first. Break down the bits of where people excel and steal them.

7. Playing fucked up is one of my favorite things. Getting drunk and high with colbol and rik and Lance (and twisty lol meh) was fun as fuckkkk. Colbol really knows how to have fun with this game lmao. when they were tripping the next day and colbol pointed out how similar blue bowser and green falco looked it was the funniest shit of the weekend. That or rik saying stupid fucked up shit laying on the floor of the hotel room, I wish I could remember that. He told me to kill my teammate (steven) so that we’d win the game. We stood there just jumping around yoshi’s for like a full two minutes wondering what to do now that we’d won the game. Who was there left to beat? “Fucking shy guys” we said as I jumped up and faired them to death and everyone laughed until they were like crying. Acid is amazing.

8. The falco soul bond is a real thing. When kpan picked up ashleigh’s guitar and played dust in the wind I knew it. When he said he loved my music because it jumped from phantogram to boston I knew it. When me and Lance chilled in the bathroom smoking the roach of the blunt because “momma didn’t raise no quitters” I fucking knew it lmao. Falcos are without a doubt the coolest people.

9. But really I’ve gotta get faster. It can’t just be from grinding. I’ve gotta like try to learn harder somehow. Maybe some of it will just be writing little thoughts I have down here when I’m playing friendlies so I don’t forget so easily. Idk we’ll see.

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