#a long time ago a friend tried to teach me to rollerblade | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

possibilistfanfiction · 4 months

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More surgeon suffering pls! Maybe bea learning more about Ava’s injury?

[definitely sooo gentle & no present-day suffering lol but here u go]

‘you can ask.’

beatrice’s gentle, callused, careful fingers still along your back, their patterns you can’t quite decipher gone quiet. ‘i would never do that.’

her voice is so soft and so relaxed, it’s not at all a reprimand; you can’t say it aloud, not yet, but you love her. you roll over so that you can see the gentle planes of her face through the silvery-blue light from the moon and the night outside her big windows, the blinds not yet drawn. she looks at you openly, patiently, like there’s nothing she wants to take from you; everything she wants to give. you know — in your heart and through your friends and your family and your therapist telling you over and over again — that you have so much to offer: you’re beautiful and funny and very smart, and you love the world more than anyone you know. you also know that beatrice is sometimes less sure of herself than she seems: she clams up every time her parents call, unable to tell them to, unequivocally if it was up to you, fuck off; she loves to be lazy and sleep in and wants no one to know; she still is in the habit of downplaying accomplishments, anything from a surgery she mastered (impressive in that you know how hard it is) to a new route she climbed at the gym (you have no idea but lilith was jealous and you can imagine it’s hot); she’s a horrible cook.

‘i know,’ you say, and you do. you let a finger drift down the bridge of her nose, count her freckles, feel the chapped bow of her lips beneath your thumb. she has a scar, small, through her left brow, and you trace it. ‘what’s this from?’

she smiles, always so quick to understand, always so generous. it makes you feel like you could light up the entire world sometimes. ‘i was five; my brothers were trying to teach me how to rollerblade.’

you think about it: beatrice’s gap-toothed grin and the delightfully terrible bob haircut she had for so much of her early childhood, the photos making you laugh when, unprompted, lilith showed you a few weeks ago when you’d all had dinner at a good oyster place near bea’s house. ‘can you rollerblade now?’

‘no, it frightened me. i never learned.’

‘putting that on the short list of things that scare you. good to know.’

she holds up her right arm so you can see the small scar on her elbow, the skin darker than before. ‘at university, i was drunk and my crush dared me to climb a tree.’

you can’t help the laugh it pulls out of you. ‘oh my.’

she nods. ‘yes, quite. needless to say, amelia and i went our separate ways fairly soon after.’

‘well, her loss. i’d have paid to see you fall out of a tree.’

‘i didn’t fall,’ she says. ‘i scraped my elbow on the way up, but i did continue.’

‘of course you did.’

she shrugs. you trace the scars across her chest, ones you love.

‘camila told me you tried to go back to classes a week after your surgery. like, the day after you got your drains out.’

bea laughs. ‘yes, and promptly fell fast asleep about three minutes in.’

‘front row?’

‘well, the second.’

‘knew it.’

‘i can keep going, if you like. i have a good story about a scraped knee during field hockey at boarding school.’

‘homoerotic, i hope.’

she rolls her eyes, but based on her silence you know you’re right.

she lets you sit in it, easily, and her house is beautiful and warm and, you’re beginning to think — to hope — it might be full of your things one day, too. it’s easier to be brave here, but your words, the worst of them, still get stuck in your throat. ‘well, what do my scars tell you?’

she weighs it. ‘you know i’m more interested in cardio.’

‘you’re the smartest person i’ve ever met.’

‘well, you favor your left hand when you’re practicing sutures, and i know your left foot gets numb often. you have trouble with temperature regulation and walking long distances, but an easier time standing for the most part; your neck aches, i think all the time.’ she pauses. ‘your handwriting is abysmal, although i suspect that has nothing to do with your injuries.’

you’re about to start crying, but she makes things lighter, even now.

‘all i care about, ava,’ she says, soft and sure, a hand tangled in your hair and then gentle on your cheek, ‘is that you get the care you need, that you tell someone — me or anyone else who can help. and you can tell me whatever you like, if ever you feel ready.’

‘i can’t — i want to.’

she kisses your forehead. ‘like i said. it’ll always be up to you. i’m here.’

you take a deep breath. ‘my mom had a garden,’ you say. ‘she died, uh —‘ you get a little caught, stuck on the way her eyes looked when she wasn’t alive anymore, when you couldn’t move, when you were stuck for so long, screaming and so, so scared — ‘she grew all kinds of vegetables.’ your voice shakes but beatrice only nods. ‘and flowers. we were going to —‘ you sniffle and beatrice just wipes your tears — ‘i think she wanted to keep bees. i don’t even know if that was possible; we had a little yard. but everything grew.’

‘that sounds wonderful.’

‘it was, even though i hated eating my vegetables.’

beatrice laughs softly, admonishing in a way that’s harmless, fond. ‘you’ve grown so much since then.’

‘hey, i’ll have you know just today i ate, like, seven bites of a salad.’

‘very impressive.’

‘can i — not right now, because i think i’ll just cry too much, but — can i tell you more about her? i wish you could’ve met her.’ i wish i could remember her more; i can’t forget.

‘i would love that. and, if she was anything like you, i’m sure she would’ve lit up an entire room. it would’ve been an honor.’

‘bea, i really don’t want to cry again,’ you whine.

‘you should know,’ she tells you, a little firm, so there’s no argument. ‘she would be so proud of you. i know it; who wouldn’t be?’

‘that’s —‘ you bury your face in her neck, just for a moment, soft and warm and safe.

‘would you like to plant a garden?’

‘in my tiny ass apartment?’

‘no,’ she says, and you can’t see her but you can practically feel her rolling her eyes. ‘here. i have the whole back yard and, frankly, no real interest in a lawn.’

‘i —‘ you back up so you can look at her, and her eyes are clear. ‘really?’

‘of course. i’m actually quite interested in self-sustaining agriculture, and the pacific northwest has great growing conditions for so much wonderful flora and fauna.’

‘wow. okay, but — it’s your house.’

she pauses. ‘ava.’

‘i just — you’re sure?’

‘i would really enjoy it, if you’d like. also, my friend marco, from the climbing gym, runs the community garden in their neighborhood and has been pestering me to meet you.’

‘you talk about me?’

‘of course.’

‘well, if marco will do all the heavy lifting, and preferably both of you not have shirts on, i’m so in.’

‘it’s february.’

you shrug. ‘you’re tough.’

beatrice laughs, and you sink into it, delight in it. you could light up the whole world, ava, she told you after two glasses of wine and half an edible the other night, entirely serious, crammed onto the small couch in your small apartment, your life expanding far beyond, past any walls you knew.

‘next weekend, when we’re both off,’ she says, ‘we can go to the nursery nearby and get started.’

‘you’re —‘ the love of my life sits right on the tip of your tongue, but you kiss her instead. ‘thank you.’

‘thank you for telling me about your garden, and your mother.’

all you can do is nod, and then hold her after she turns over and falls asleep.

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #surgeons au #butch bea 🥺🫡#honestly i had no idea what was gonna come out of ava's mouth this entire fic #he was simply in charge! lmao

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merihn · 3 years

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Hello! Your writing is beautiful!! Would you be open to fluff prompt #27 "are you blushing?" for poly Alex/Luke/Reggie where Luke and Reggie are teasing Alex after realizing that he likes Willie too? ~

Got randomly inspired. This is utterly ridiculous, but I hope you like it.

Prompts filled.

“Willie said he would teach me how to skate if I wanted!” Alex was practically vibrating with excitement.

“You, skateboarding?” Luke asked skeptically.

“What?” Alex frowned.

“Well, remember that time we all tried to rollerblade and you fell down and skinned your knee so badly you swore off all wheeled things except bicycles?” Reggie put in.

“Yeah but that was ages ago, and I think Willie would be a really good teacher.”

Luke and Reggie looked at each other.

“Oh, you do, do you?” Luke said meaningfully. Alex frowned again.

“Yeah, he’s really patient and kind and -”

“Are you blushing?” Reggie interrupted. Alex’s blush deepened and he spluttered out a protest.

“He totally is!” Luke nudged Reggie to look at Alex as though Reggie hadn’t just pointed it out. Reggie giggled and nudged him back as Alex turned increasingly red and his words got more scrambled by his embarrassment.

“Do you like Willie?” Reggie asked coyly.

Luke put his arm around Reggie and pouted. “Are we not enough for you anymore? Have you grown tired of us? Are you throwing us away?” His voice got increasingly dramatic as he asked each question, and Reggie nodded along and matched Luke’s exaggerated sad face.

Alex rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “You guys are ridiculous. I don’t like Willie, he’s just a friend. Besides, he knows I’m dating you two idiots, although I’m not so sure why anymore.”

Reggie gasped and clasped Luke’s hand over his heart. “It’s true. He doesn’t love us anymore. He’s throwing us over for a long haired skater boy!”

Luke let out a sob and dropped to his knees in front of Alex. “Please don’t leave us for the beautiful skater boy. Whatever he has that we don’t, we can be better! We can try! Just don’t leave us.” He clutched at Alex’s pants pathetically.

“Oh my god, shut up. I’m not leaving you for Willie!”

“You’re not?”

They all turned to see Willie at the doors to the garage, clearly fighting to keep a smile off his face.

“Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Joleeeeeeeene!” Reggie wailed, and Willie cracked up. He doubled over clutching his stomach, and none of them could keep a straight face anymore and joined him.

When he finally stopped laughing, Willie looked over at Alex with a mournful expression. “So all those times we hung out and I thought we had something special, you were just using me to make your boyfriends’ jealous!”

“What - I -” Alex spluttered and Willie, Luke and Reggie burst out laughing again. “I hate you all. I’m not dating any of you anymore because you’re all terrible people.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, baby.” Luke pulled himself up and grabbed Alex’s hips to pull him in close. Alex blushed again at the pet name and Luke pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. He felt Reggie sidle up next to them and moved his arm to pull Reggie into the embrace.

“We don’t really mind if you like Willie,” Reggie whispered, sliding his arms around both their waists. Alex didn’t say anything for a moment, biting his lip and staring at them seriously.

“Are you sure about that?” he murmured hesitantly.

“I mean, I already share you with Luke, what’s another person?” Reggie winked at Luke and Luke smiled softly.

“We know how you feel about us, and if Willie wants you too, well, we have each other to occupy us while you’re busy.”

“What are you guys whispering about over there? Is the joke over?” Willie looked a little bit lost, still standing in the doorway to the garage. He had his arms wrapped around himself, one thumb rubbing just above his other elbow.

“Sorry, Willie, we didn’t mean to leave you out.” Reggie smiled at him warmly, and Willie smiled back automatically.

“I thought maybe Alex wanted to try out skating today, but if you guys are busy I can come back later.” He took a step backwards.

“No, we’re not busy. He’d love to come skate with you,” Luke said, pressing another kiss to Alex’s mouth and then pushing him toward Willie.

“I - Ok,” Alex muttered. He gave them a nervous smile and walked over to Willie,who took his hand with a worried look in their direction. Luke wrapped his arms around Reggie and set his chin on his shoulder. They both gave Willie an encouraging smile and he let out a breath and disappeared with Alex.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” Reggie asked.

“Yeah, I just want him to be happy, you know?”

“Yeah,” Reggie replied, and twisted around in Luke’s arm to draw him closer, kissing him soundly.

“Plus, Willie is really pretty, I don’t want to miss seeing that every time he comes around for Alex. Reggie laughed and kissed him again.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #completely ridiculous #and I actually tried to make it ot4 but idk it didn't happen #anyway #my fic #prompts #phoenixfidelity

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chaos-weekly · 3 years

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“That was the worst pickup line ever,” Nollie greeted, but a hint of a smile shone on her face. London flashed her a grin, surprising himself with how genuine it was. Maybe he needed more of her fresh air than he realized.

“Who said it was a pickup line?” London challenged, grabbing the rollerblades he’d bought with Bishop earlier that day. He still needed to put them on, but at least he knew they fit.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Everyone. Everyone knows you were using a pickup line.”

He sat down on the park bench and started unlacing his boots. They were the stylish kind, not the practical kind.

“I’m gonna need some clarification on who exactly saw this supposed pickup line,” he teased, using air quotes around pickup line. Nollie rolled her eyes at London, so hard he thought they might pop out of her head. But her smile had grown.

“My best friend. Who then showed it to at least two other people—both flirty guys—who agreed it’s a pickup line.”

London grimaced a little. Of all his pickup lines, it had to be one of his worst that got passed around her friends? Couldn’t it have been one of his more clever ones? He needed to improve his reputation, not make it worse.

“That’s vague on details. Who’s your best friend? Is it that actress you were with at the gala?” He wasn’t sure of the woman’s name, so London didn’t try and remember it. But he had seen her peppered throughout Nollie’s Instagram feed. After following her account, he had definitely stalked it. She was hot in the photos, but something about her grace and joie de vivre didn’t carry over from real life. She was even better in person. Which said a lot.

Nollie nodded, sitting down next to him and switching to her rollerblades. They were beat up and well-loved.

“Yeah, Didi Silva. She’s my roommate, too, so she knows everything that goes on in my life.” Nollie rolled her eyes at this, but she didn’t seem upset by it.

“So you told your best friend about me?” London teased, gently nudging her shoulder with his. Nollie returned the contact with a flat look.

“I tell her about all my new friends.”

Okay. She had said friends. And it wasn’t like London wanted to date anyone. But friends didn’t typically have the same attraction or tension that he and Nollie shared. Not that he wanted to get into another relationship.

“Who else are your friends?” London wasn’t asking to be nosy or inquisitive. He genuinely wanted to know. Nollie didn’t seem like the type to let very many people in fully. He’d have to learn how to be her friend slowly, but not too slowly. London still wanted to be around her and with her.

“Ainsley,” Nollie listed instantly. She stood, extending a hand to London without prompting. He smiled graciously and took it, but he made sure she was the one to drop his hand. Which took a second or two longer than usual.

“He seems interesting,” London said.

“In a good or a bad way?” Nollie’s voice had gotten a little tight. Probably defensive of her friend choices, and it wasn’t like London was going to judge her for them. They had to be better than Kendall’s crowd.

“Good. And neutral,” London answered after some thought. “Who else?”

“Xander Presley, I guess. He’s Didi’s other best friend, so he’s over a lot.”

“I’ve met him before a few times. He seemed fun.” Except maybe in a bad way, but London respected that. Parties, sex, the occasional illegal substance? What was wrong with that?

“That’s one word for it,” Nollie laughed, already lightening up around him. It made London grin wider. They skated forward, super slowly for his sake, towards the main plaza of the park. It was next to the skate park, and he wished he had brought his board. London hadn’t gone skateboarding in a while, and this made him miss it.

“What about you? Who do you hang out with?” Nollie asked, speeding up to come in front of London and face him. She was skating backwards now, not worried about what was behind her. She was fearless.

“Bishop Jeong,” London answered as quickly as she had named Ainsley. He had other friends, drinking buddies, a couple other people he hung out with, but not many. And no one else as close as Bishop. For three years his life had been added on to Kendall’s, which always took priority. He’d lost track with most of his old friends outside of the tattooing business. But Bishop and he had become close two years ago.

“Really? I didn’t see that one coming. But it makes sense.” She looked pensive, but turned to face forward before London could inquire more. “C’mon, slow poke!” Nollie called over her shoulder, her long hair flying in the wind. If she hadn’t been so exciting and beautiful, London would have groaned at the thought of skating faster. But Nollie made this actually bearable. She’d done that for him during the shoot, and she was doing it again now.

It took London a few strides to speed up, but he chased after Nollie until he caught up, right at the edge of the pavilion.

“So how do I skate backwards?” he asked. That’s what they had come for, right? To teach him.

Nollie grinned excitedly. “Just like how you skate forwards, but backwards.” The laugh that echoed from her after speaking was dazzling. It took a half second longer than usual to process her words, too distracted by her laugh and the way her wind blown hair framed her face.

“Helpful.” Cheeky was more like it. Nollie grinned and spun in her rollerblades.

“Where’d you learn to do this so well?” he asked a few minutes later, after he’d gotten more stable skating forwards and turning. They were doing laps around the area. Or rather, London was doing laps. Nollie kept coming back and forth from the center, messing around with tricks and other methods of skating. If she hadn’t been so distracting, London was pretty sure he would be as good as her by now.

Nollie’s smile dimmed, tainted by some thought that she didn’t share. “I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. I keep up with it when I have the chance.”

London barely noticed her smile changing, but he was pretty sure it had. “That’s me with skateboarding,” he told her.

She fell into stride next to him, matching his pace. “You’re a skater boy, huh?” She nudged his shoulder with hers, nearly knocking him over. Not because of her impact, but because she was so distracting. London swore profusely, but he managed to regain balance before falling.

Nollie looked somewhere between amused and guilty. Her hand covered her lips, stifling a laugh. She wasn’t doing a great job. Man, she was worse than Bishop.

“Did the tattoos not make it clear? Or the motorcycle? I’m a bad boy,” London said, smirking at her playfully. She rolled her eyes, blushing just a bit.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are.” Nollie shook her head before skating ahead of him, taking the corner with ease. London slowed down, and he had far less grace, but he didn’t fall. That was what mattered here.

“What? Don’t believe me?” he teased. He was about to offer to show her, but then London figured his suggestive meaning would probably ward her off. It was too early for that, even if her long legs were shown off perfectly in her shorts. Even if she was absolutely breathtaking in every way.

“Hm, I don’t think you’re as bad as you pretend to be.” Nollie was definitely teasing back now, making London grin wider again. She had slowed down, so he decided to do something stupid. He sped up, catching her with an arm around her shoulders. He wanted to go for the waist, but this seemed slightly less flirtatious.

Thankfully, Nollie laughed when she shrugged him off. “Okay, time to try skating backwards. I think you’re ready.”

London did not feel ready.

“Start here, like this,” she instructed, crouching down and repositioning his legs. He let her do what she needed to, too busy watching her graceful movements (and her slight cleavage) to really care that she was telling him what to do. London usually hated that, but Nollie made it easier.

“Okay,” she announced, standing up with a proud grin. “Try it. Just like skating forwards, but you’re going backwards.”

For some reason, Nollie’s advice made a little more sense now. So he tried it, and London grinned as he managed to skate backwards at a decent pace.

“This is—“ He fell before he could finish his sentence, legs sweeping out from beneath him. London swore again, and many times thereafter, as Nollie rushed over. He didn’t bother getting up by himself. He’d just fall again.

“Are you okay?” she checked, crouching beside him. London gave her a lazy smile.

“Dandy.”

“Good, then I can laugh guilt-free,” she giggled. That was another thing he usually hated, being laughed at. Bishop got away with it because he was Bishop, but apparently so did Nollie.

“So kindhearted,” London quipped. Nollie sobered up at his sarcastic—and very much joking—remark.

“Sorry. Let me help you up.” She didn’t make eye contact while helping him.

“Nollie, you’re welcome to laugh at me. You did manage to sweep me off my feet.” That was a pun pickup line, so it was better than the saving his life line.

Nollie chuckled weakly, something having changed between them. She wasn’t skating as close to him, and she seemed absent from the situation. She was also leading them back towards the bench where they’d left their shoes.

“It was a rock that swept you off your feet,” she corrected.

“Says who?” London feigned offense.

“My eyes. I saw a pebble under you right as you hit it. Sorry for not saying anything.” Nollie still wasn’t making eye contact, and he frowned.

“You’re fine. It was funny.” And it gave him an opportunity to flirt with her, but he’d messed it up somehow.

“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Nollie pointed out.

“And I would have had a friend right here to nurse me back to health,” he retorted. London wanted things to go back to how easy they had been a few minutes ago, but how did he do that?

Nollie rolled her eyes, but that hint of a smile was back. “I should get going, but thanks for meeting up with me.”

He smiled freely at her. “I had fun. I’ll see you soon, Nollie.” He almost called her Nolls, but he didn’t want to repeat his mistake from the gala. She already seemed upset enough. He’d send her a text later to make sure she was okay.

Wait. London wasn’t dating her. He didn’t want to date her. He just wanted to be friends with benefits. But friends did care about each other’s wellbeing. So it wouldn’t be weird for him to check in later. Before he could think much of it, Nollie waved and skated away, her shoes tucked under her arm.

Why was she always the one running from him?

#chaos weekly #rising from the ashes

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rhirhim · 7 years

Text

[fic] dark cherry and chocolate

Chanyeol teaches Baekhyun how to ice skate.

(chanbaek, 2k, romance, fluff, original can be found here)

Snow falls lightly that night, tumbling down slowly as a thin white blanket covers everything in sight and makes the town glisten like one magnificent crystal. Chanyeol does a lap around the lake, arms out wide and long scarf billowing behind him as he skates in circles across the thick ice. He hasn't been ice skating for a long time, the ice rink in the village he used to live in having been shut down several years ago due to a lack of customers, and he relishes in the feeling of his muscles aching and the cold wind nipping at his face, making his cheeks and ears blush a brilliant red. "Come on, Baekhyun!" he shouts, drawing the attention of the smaller boy still at the edge of the lake, feet still planted firmly on the snowy ground.

Unlike Chanyeol, Baekhyun has never ice skated before. He comes from the city, and several ice rinks would open during the winter period, all within a distance easily covered by a quick train ride, but he has never felt compelled to have a go himself, preferring just to watch instead. Not that he's never thought of trying, because he has. But the fear of hurting himself, the stories of what a pair of skates can do to you if your fingers fall into their path, the thought of what may lie beneath the ice, have been just a few reasons as to why he has never wanted to pick up a pair of skates and see what all the fuss is about.

Until now.

"Shut up. Just give me a second," he snaps in reply to Chanyeol's shout, making the taller bellow out a deep laugh that has Baekhyun feeling even less confident than he did before. He instantly regrets agreeing with the other boy's idea to go ice skating on the lake when he places his foot down only to have the blade of his skate slip under him and pull him into a sort of half splits. He cries out in pain as his muscles tug and he scrambles to draw his leg back and sit in a huff in the snow. "This is the worst idea ever," he grumbles to himself as Chanyeol starts to skate backwards. Of all the things for Chanyeol to be good at, why did it have to be ice skating? He's the clumsiest human alive! Nothing makes sense. "I'm never listening to you again."

Chanyeol comes to a stop in front of him, little shards of ice flying out as he grates down his skates to slow himself down. "It's really not that hard," he grins, holding a hand out to help pull Baekhyun up onto his feet. "You just need to be confident."

"Nothing about this situation makes me confident," Baekhyun pouts. He gestures to his wobbly feet. "These are a death trap."

The skates he's wearing are Chanyeol's sister's skates that his mother had let them use at Chanyeol's request. As such they are a little too tight, cutting into the skin above his ankles and making him feel almost nothing from the knees down. The biting cold does nothing to relieve the lack of feeling at all, and Baekhyun can already feel blisters beginning to rub into his skin even though he has barely done anything. His expression must have relayed how unhappy he is at the situation as Chanyeol suddenly pouts at him and brings a hand up to poke at his friend's rosy cheeks.

"Are you scared?"

Scoffing, Baekhyun swats his hands away. "Of course I'm bloody scared," he says. Honestly, what a dumb question. "The ground could fall beneath us at any moment!"

The laugh Chanyeol lets out is deep and warm, and Baekhyun knows his cheeks are no longer red from the cold alone. Chanyeol raises a hand to ruffle his hair, leaving his hand atop Baekhyun's head, and Baekhyun doesn't mind that he is sweaty and his hair is probably a mess because Chanyeol is smiling at him.

"No it won't," Chanyeol says. "And if it does, I'll be there to catch you."

There's a moment of stillness, a second in which the snow falling around them seems to stop, floating in mid-air, and the quiet of the night becomes almost stifling, but then Chanyeol's nose wrinkles and he turns his head to sneeze into the crook of the elbow, and Baekhyun feels like he can breathe again, huffing out a lungful of air he didn't realise he was holding in feigned annoyance. "If I die I will come back and haunt you forever."

The other boy only laughs at him, shuffling backwards and holding out his arms. "Here, take my hands."

Baekhyun slips his much smaller hand into Chanyeol's very much bigger one and grips onto him as tight as he can. Chanyeol tells him to step onto the ice and he does, wobbling only a little bit as his friend keeps him steady. "Now push off with your foot," the taller says, and Baekhyun does so, gliding forwards as Chanyeol goes backwards with him. "That's it, and again with the other one."

They gradually make their way across the ice, Baekhyun stumbling every now and then over his own quaking feet. "This is nothing like rollerblading, you liar," he says, making Chanyeol chuckle. It heats Baekhyun up from inside his stomach.

"Yes it is!" Chanyeol giggles in reply. And then, "I would never lie to you," softer.

"Yeah you would," the shorter pouts, "to torture me like this."

"I think you're doing a pretty good job." A pause. "Bend your knees a little."

Baekhyun does so, squatting down slightly. "Like this?" he asks. He feels ridiculous.

"Perfect! You look like a professional."

Baekhyun is certain he looks like a duck with a broken leg, but his comment to rebuff Chanyeol's statement is cut off with a distressed wail as Chanyeol eases them around a sudden corner.

Just as he is starting to feel confident, Chanyeol lets go. One moment Baekhyun is happily skating, hands warm in Chanyeol's own, and the next he is cold and alone, gliding slowly across the ice, hands gripping nothing but empty air. "Chanyeol?" he calls out, "what are you doing?" His knees start to shake and he comes to a stop in the centre of the lake, too afraid to turn around and see if his friend is anywhere around him. "Where are you?"

The cold wind howling is his only reply. Baekhyun turns his head as far as he can in all directions, seeing nothing but snow and ice. "Chanyeol? Chanyeol, this isn't funny." His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest and he's breathless as his throat tightens up in knots. He thinks he sees something big and black moving sinisterly under the ice and he wishes more than ever that he never agreed to come out onto the lake at all.

Baekhyun slams his eyes shut. It's taking all his energy not to collapse on the spot. The inky darkness behind his eyes does little to stop him from panicking. "Chanyeol, come back!" he cries. "Chanyeol? Please, I'm scared!" Curling into himself, he squeezes his eyes tighter.

"I'm scared. Please don't leave me."

He startles when he feels a presence in front of him. A pair of warm hands take Baekhyun's own before sliding gently up his arms, brushing along his shoulders before coming to a stop at the sides of Baekhyun's face. Baekhyun's eyes are still closed, clenching tight in fear, but then something soft and a little wet presses gently against his lips.

Chanyeol tastes like the dark cherry and chocolate pie they had for dessert that evening. Baekhyun sighs into his mouth and slowly unravels, reaching forward to grab onto the other boy's coat. Chanyeol's lips are a little chapped, roughened by winter, but oh so soft as they move against Baekhyun's, slow and sweet. A hand moves from Baekhyun's face to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss to an extent that has Baekhyun feeling weak, clinging on to the other tighter as a small, high pitched whine rings from the back of his throat.

Chanyeol is warm, and soft, and wonderful, and Baekhyun can't bring himself to be afraid anymore.

It lasts for seconds, years, a lifetime, and then Chanyeol pulls away. Baekhyun opens his eyes at last to see the taller boy staring at him, almond eyes wide and cheeks flushed all the way up to the tip of his ears. His lips are glistening slightly with spit. He leans forward and touches their foreheads together, and Baekhyun feels his breath against his lips and chin.

"I'll never leave you, Baekhyun."

Chanyeol barks in pain as his butt hits the ice. Baekhyun had shoved him so hard he slides backwards on his skates. "Asshole!" the smaller screeches, hands spread out in front of him as he wobbles on the ice, slipping all over the place. "How dare you scare me like that! What on earth were you thinking, you moron?"

The taller rubs his sore bottom and winces up at his furious friend, laughing through the pain at his enraged expression. "I'm sorry," he says with a grin, "you looked so cute and you were doing really well, it seemed like a good idea at the time."

Scoffing, Baekhyun manages to right himself and glare down at his friend. "You're such an arse, Yeol." Honestly, this is the worst Christmas Eve ever. He doesn't help Chanyeol as he scrambles up from the ice, and when he glides forwards to hover close by, Baekhyun turns to look in the opposite direction in a humph. He successfully hides his smile when Chanyeol whines and pouts, "I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

"You better not. I should beat your ass."

The taller doesn't touch him (Baekhyun wants him to touch him) but he looks like he wants to but is afraid to do so in case Baekhyun pushes him away again (Baekhyun won't). Instead, Chanyeol flaps his arms about. "I didn't know you'd be that scared," he begs, shuffling from one foot to the other as he tries to get Baekhyun to look at him. "I promise I won't do it again."

"Idiot. Help me get back to land. I don't really want to stay out here anymore."

Chanyeol takes his hands and skates backwards towards the spot they first arrived at, pulling a disgruntled Baekhyun along with him. He looks sheepish, guilty, and just a little bit pleased with himself, and while the memory of Chanyeol's lips pressed against his own is burned into his mind and skin, Baekhyun is still very, (not) very angry. He makes his feelings known by sighing deeply and grumbling under his breath.

"I can't believe you did that."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so mad at you."

"I'm know."

They reach the edge of lake and Baekhyun all but flings himself onto the dirt. "I am never doing that again," he pants, wiping away the sweat at his brow and temples as Chanyeol flops down beside him in the snow. Water seeps through Baekhyun's jeans and makes him shiver, but he's off the ice and didn't die so he doesn't really care. He turns to Chanyeol to tell him just how much he hated the entire experience, half if it being his own fault for playing that nasty prank on him, but his words die in his throat because Chanyeol looks so forlorn. It doesn't suit the handsomeness of his face.

He shuffles closer to him. "You know," he says, placing his hand over Chanyeol's where it sits in his lap, "you can always make it up to me."

Chanyeol turns to look at him, blinking at how close the closeness of their faces "Yeah?" he asks. He's smiling again, and so is Baekhyun.

"Yes," Baekhyun says, almost a whisper, and he smiles into Chanyeol's mouth as the taller pulls him in for another kiss, large gloved hands cupping his cheek and holding his hand, keeping him impossibly close.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

#chanbaek #exo fic #i felt like posting this for some reason #i know it's the wrong season but fuck it #chanyeol #baekhyun #exo #my writing

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cuntbastardfuck · 7 years

Text

and i’m over it

I’m sorry I have to write you something ridiculously stupid long, but at least this one is nice, and this will be the last one. I promise promise promise. Then I will leave you alone forever, unless of course either one of us has something to share with the other via text. I will always be open to communication with you, but I feel like you’re texting me because I was so hysterical the last time I saw you. I’m okay now, and this is why…….

So this shit has taken me a long while to digest. Looking back and reflecting on everything has been a slow, tedious, and overall miserable process for me, but I’m grateful for all of it. I’m glad to be through it, and not in it. I’m done dissecting; I’m done blaming you, and I’m done blaming myself. It’s neither one of our faults; we are just two very different people. We’re looking for different things in partners, as well as in our lives and lifestyles. By the way, I’m aware my collection of letters are ridiculous, but I’ve now gone through two journals. These letters are nothing in comparison. Working out my crazy hysteria has been a fucking nightmare. The rough draft of this letter finished out the last two pages of the second journal I’ve gone through during our six months apart (Happy break-up anniversary by the way, eh eh eh)….literally so much fucking writing and contemplation. I’ve exhausted myself, and I’m sorry to drag you along for my oscillations, thoughts, tears, anger, regrets, etc etc….so many feelings, but I want you to live your life not worrying about me or having any feelings of guilt or wondering if I’m going to kill myself.

First of all, thank you for taking the time to talk to me last Friday. I was melting inside, and I had been for so long. Thank you for picking up phone calls from women that need you in moments of desolation. That conversation made me realized that how completely over we are. You wouldn’t come to me. Your entire tone of voice had changed. Everything about you had changed, but I had noticed this a long time ago. The fact that you now have a girlfriend when we stopped seeing each other sometime after December 10th also hurt me. I wasn’t ready for that blow. In my head, I was going to tell you that I wanted you back, and you were going to tell me no, but I was going to trick you into being my friend and then seduce you; that’s how crazy I was getting. But a new girlfriend is your prerogative and none of my business. You deserve to be happy, and I couldn’t do that for you. I sincerely hope you find someone that more readily suits you. I hope nothing, but the best for you, sweet angel.

But, back to the topic at hand…..this entire time, since the moment we broke up, and decided to continue to see each other, you weren’t the same. I knew it, but I tried so hard to make myself believe that you were the same person that once loved me, but you were not. Your feelings for me turned off at some point that I can’t locate in time. I just kept wishing that you cared enough about me to love me the way I wanted you too, but you never did and never will. I can’t change who you are as much as I tried; I had a very hard time accepting that this was your truth. I kept wishing that I could somehow love you knowing that you loved me less than you once had. We both know I’m not capable of that.

Anyways, last Friday when I got off the phone with you, I was a mess. Thank you for listening to me, and being distant. It’s what I needed from you. Thank you for not rescuing me. After that conversation, I called my mom, and she helped clear everything up for me. Until Friday, I was still blaming myself, which don’t get me wrong, I went through plenty of periods in which I blamed you as well, but this particular moment, my blame game had once again reversed back in my direction. What my mom said to me that made the most sense was that you and I want different things out of a relationship - this idea turned my head in newfound, sane direction, finally. So instead of trying to find out who did what wrong and/or right, I focused on our differences.

I want to date someone who challenges me, and you did that for me. You kept me grounded when I prefer to be sporadic. You did this with your sweetness, kindness, and gentleness. You challenged me to be those things, and also, to respect you for being that kind of person. I don’t think you want to date someone who challenges you. More importantly to you, is to get along always. I looked at the two of us together, and I saw what we could learn from each other; that’s why I decided to be with you in the first place. I wanted to grow with you and become a kinder, less wreckless, more sweet and considerate version of myself. I know you may not see my behavior in our relationship as a reflection of those traits, but for me, I was by far the nicest to you than I have ever been to any man in my life (I’m not bragging by any means. I’ve just been horrible before, and when I think about it, it makes me feel horrible). I saw you becoming stronger, more honest, more blunt - you could find a voice where your thoughts had previously been hidden and contained. You would become a more authoritative player in your life, specifically in regards to your relationships. But I don’t think you ever wanted that. You say you don’t want a relationship like your sister and Josh’s, but I think you want a relationship where both people have personalities similar to Josh. From my perspective, we didn’t fight a lot, but those fights hurt you, and I never knew how much. You didn’t tell me. I wish I would have known.

When I think of my life summed up in a few adjectives, I think of passion and love, and even regarding “passion” and “love,” I think we would define these words differently. You’re passionate in the way that you’re disciplined, like in regards to the gym, school (the things you do, like all of them - hiking, working etc). I’m emotionally passionate - I love hard; I cry hard; I hurt hard, and sometimes that turns into an impossible drunken anger; basically, my human connections are all-consuming.

You’re comfortable with stability and repetition. My life has never been predictable nor scheduled. You can eat oatmeal for breakfast everyday or Chipotle for lunch 3 days a week without getting sick of it. I will make a batch of soup, thinking I’m prepping my dinner for the week, but by day two, the thought of eating the same soup absolutely disgusts me, and I have to find someone to give it to.

You go the gym like a champ, all the damn time. I go from running marathons to a gym membership to hiking to kickboxing to Sumits hot yoga to volleyball to trampolines to Bikram even hotter yoga to rollerblading to Your Yoga so I can take Kundalini, Hatha, Vinyasa, Meditation, Yoga Nidra and Ashtanga variations and now I’m skiing.

I’m not trying to shit on you at all. It’s just that you’re regimented, and I’m wild. Your life makes for a way more stable brain, and I take risks, sometimes without thinking at all, which can blow up in my face and make me crazy, regretful, and feel stupid.

I feel at home in any gathering of people; you prefer things to be more intimate. You plan and set your mind to change when things get messy, while I have faith that no matter what, everything will be okay, even if at the moment it isn’t (like the past six months). Your way is more deliberate, while mine is far-fetched. I held onto my love for you for so long because I thought it was beautiful; I thought it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever practiced, and I wanted you to always feel it, but it ended up costing me six months of sanity; yet, I still wouldn’t change it, even after many public meltdowns.

I want to explore the world, and I will. I’m deliberate in regards to my unrealistic dreams, like teaching in Thailand or running a marathon in every country or going to Europe, which happened to be for 40 days with a girl I had never hung out with outside of work, or visiting every one my family members every year, even when I’m broke and cannot at all afford it. You don’t do things you can’t afford. You’re not a ridiculous person, and that’s a great thing, but I totally am. It’s exhausting, and I love it most days, but sometimes it hurts my heart.

You and I also have different definitions of dishonesty. I define it as sneaking, lying, cheating, being too cowardly to tell someone a hard truth, making promises you can’t keep, ignoring phone calls or texts, or taking advantage of a person in any way. I still don’t know how you define dishonesty or fairness. I’m not saying that I’m never dishonest and you’re always dishonest, but when I am, it ruins my life, and when other people are, it ruins my life. When I see dishonest actions occur, I need to fix them, even if they’re not mine to fix. I know this causes problems, for myself and others at times. For example, Sweet Chili stealing from the kitchen, or how I felt you were being taken advantage of at Sweet Chili and/or by your family. It drove me crazy. I’m not happy when I’m not doing right by others - that’s why I’ve been so unhappy.

I completely shut down during this break up. I feel like I’m the queen of shutting down. I did that to you too often. I see that now. During my deep, dark, six month depression, I shut out everyone - roommates, family, and friends. I felt lonely, and responded by making myself even more lonely by creating an environment where I was continuously physically alone.

I did hang out with one boy pretty often, the same one that I had been seeing, the one that I had mentioned to you previously. I had many conversations with him from the moment I began seeing him about how I was not ready for a relationship because I was still hopelessly in love with you. Even though I had this conversation with him many times, I had never had it sober. I felt the need to communicate while sober because I could tell he was falling in love with me, even though I vocalized my attitude against his love over and over again. I had needed to have this conversation with him sober in the first place, but I thought if I had it often enough while drinking, he would understand. I lacked the courage to hurt him, which reminded me of you, and I hated myself for being so scared.

What I’ve learned about myself is that closed communication fucks me up, rather than protects me. I was trying to ignore my feelings for you. I didn’t want to write about it anymore, so didn’t. I didn’t want anyone to know how sad I remained, so I just stopped hanging out with everyone. I also stopped taking phone calls from my parents. I drank entirely too often and while my sober self would appear normal on the surface, drunk me was a disaster. Ignoring everything created a sense of isolation that was subconsciously terrifying. I didn’t figure out how sad I actually was until all of a sudden, the last couple of weeks when I’d fall apart sober or drunk everywhere. Like I would be fine; then I would get to work, and all of a sudden I couldn’t stop crying and hyperventilating; I would then take an order, and then go cry in the walk-in until my tears got tired of falling. It was horrifying. I couldn’t control my body. Pretending like I was okay riddled me with so much guilt subconsciously, that I think I felt as if I deserved to be alone and sad - that I was pathetic and unlovable - that I had no friends because somehow, all of a sudden, I had turned into a horrible person over night, and I was the last person to be informed of the monster I had transformed into. I was too ashamed of my sadness to tell my own mother. I was so unhappy about being unhappy that I reacted by making myself even more miserable. I think all of the pretending, made me feel so dishonest, which is a quality I despise, that I created a setting where I could be discarded and alone.

I’ve discovered that my personal survival depends on the well-being of my relationships. So I called you on Friday. I called my family after that. Then I called boy #1 on Monday and had a very painful and dreaded conversation about how no matter how much he loves me or how well he treats me that I will never his girlfriend - no matter what. Then I told boy #2 that I do not crave his closeness, and that I never will spend time with him regularly.

Currently, I feel great, and I’m so grateful to not be drunk, or crying, or crying and drunk, or crying, drunk, and hysterically telling a boy that loves me how I’m in love with you (seriously, the most heartless thing a girl can do). But I was emotionally hungry. I think that you felt alone and emotionally hungry during our relationship. I know how this feels. Because of our break-up, I jumped into a man’s lap because I was emotionally starved, but I don’t usually do that; so that’s why it took me so long to figure out that I felt bad and sad underneath all my shit. It makes sense though, I fucking loved you with everything I had. You were different for me.

Finally, I don’t crave anyone. I feel like jumping from one relationship to another so quickly shows how badly and sadly my heart was broken. Sometimes we feel the need to be rescued from our aloneness. It’s human. BUT six months to the day, and I don’t feel the need to be rescued or saved. I feel like I’m energetically running towards something, rather than turning my back and running away from a world I thought had abandoned me. I no longer need nor want a partner as a reaction. I want my next person to be a decision, and I want to make that decision when I’m actually ready.

Just to let you know, I have absolutely zero hard feelings about you banging that girl and hiding it from me. We were broken up. Dishonesty just kills me...always will. To be fair, I was also having sex with someone; I was honest about it, which made you the bad guy in my head. I’ll continue to never know how you feel about that whole situation or anything.

Lastly, as great as it has been to hear your voice via text message, I can’t keep doing this to myself. Your ideas of friendship will always differ from mine because I need my friends to be there no matter what, in the same way that I need my more romant\ ways to reflect. You can’t do that for me, and you no longer have to. I want you to succeed in what you’re doing even if that is a relationship that does not include me. Enjoy your person, but you shouldn’t do that while in contact with me. I’ll always be friendly, but there is just no reason for us to go on like we are. Be excited with her. Share your skin dilemmas with her.

xoxo

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