[age 9] "Give me your hand. I'm going to tell your fortune."
[gives her my hand] "OK. What's going to happen?"
[closes eyes, feels my palm] "In the next week..."
[slowly] "...you are..."
"...going to turn into a llama."
"A llama. A fire-breathing llama."
"I'm going to turn into a dragon llama?"
"No, it's a dragollama."
"You sure it's not a llamagon?"
"With two humps to store water. And wings."
"Llamas don't have humps. You're thinking of camels."
[shrugging] "No, you're going to be a llama with humps."
"So I'm going to turn into a flying fire-breathing llama-camel hybrid? I don't want to turn into a llamagon."
"It's not a llamagon. It's a dragollama."
"Maybe it's a dragollamagon?"
"And you will have turtle shells on each hump, up above your wings."
"So it's a turtellamagon?"
"No, it's still just a dragollama."
"OK, look, this isn't really telling my fortune. You're supposed to tell me events that are going to happen, or people I'm going to meet. So, besides turning into a fire-breathing winged llama-camel-turtle with a crippling sense that I have no idea what I am or why I exist, what else can you tell me about the future?"
"You're going to help people."
"Oh, good, that's better."
"You're going to set things on fire because you're a fire-breathing llama, but it will be an accident, and because you have water in your humps, you will be able to put out the fire too."
"So I will help people by putting out the fires that I started by accident???"
"Why don't I just NOT START THE FIRES to begin with?!?"
[shrugging] "Hey, you're the dragollama. Why do you do what you do?"
Description: In which a shy Chanyeol decides to take a risk.
Word Count: 1,297
Author’s note: So here it is, the second part of our shy!chanyeol’s drabble. Let me be honest, it took me long before I decided to go with Chanyeol for this drabble and concept overall (shy shy shy). Anyway~ I hope you like it!
You smiled in remembrance. Ever since that day the two of you had been together. You could still feel his lips by your ear, talking ever so sweetly about the “butterflies” and how he’d only ever written about them in songs but now had the chance to feel.
His lips. You felt the uninvited heat rise on your cheeks and you smiled, unconsciously bringing your hand to your neck.
You could remember Eun-bi asking how far you’d gotten with Chanyeol in the past months of your relationship and Yerim reprimanding her for asking such questions.
“It’s alright, Yerim,” you would chuckle, knowing that she, too, wanted to know how the two of you were currently doing.
Then, your smile would fade for the slightest second.
How far had you taken it with Chanyeol? Well. Certainly, it’d never had gone pass a heated kiss. Even those weren’t very common. Chanyeol was undoubtedly shy, and a gentleman. Though you often wondered if his lack of skinship for you attributed much to his manners.
Sometimes, though rarely, you felt as if he never really wanted you. Then again, it was always proven wrong and you wondered if, rather than not loving you enough, he loved you too much. The thought would make your heart flutter, of course. But then you would laugh, imagining what would happen if Chanyeol ever did try taking it a step further.
Your friends had indeed called him a ray of sunshine but that in no way made up for his slight awkwardness and clumsiness. Not to mention his size really made things a bit harder for him. When he hugged you, if you looked from behind, it seemed as if you’d completely disappeared under his arms and tall figure. And let’s not talk about whenever he let you nest inside his oversized coat, although those had to be one of the most pleasurable moments you’d ever had. It really was warm and cozy in there.
So, at the end, censure-worthy skinship or not, he always made up for it just in the way he was.
Him doodling in the back of your hand with his finger, perhaps writing the lyrics to a new song in it, only to later lay a soft kiss over it. Feather-like kisses on your forehead, cheeks, neck or shoulders if he was feeling risky. Hugging you with such care and delicacy as if he were afraid to break you yet they were long lasting as if he were afraid to let go. And the sweetest of kisses on your lips as his hand tugged your hair loose from behind your ear only to put it back in place once again.
That’s just what Chanyeol was and you loved it.
So, when he proposed something that wasn’t very much like him, you were surprised to say the least.
“Butterfly, may I hold you tight?” Chanyeol whispered. You both lay on your sofa. You leaned on his shoulder while reading a book and he watched attentively for your reply.
“Sure,” you said, not finding it very different from his usual demeanor.
You looked up at him with a smile and noticed his lips already displaying one of their own. Your breath caught slightly as you realized his proximity, you thought you’d never get used to having him so close.
Your eyes rounded visibly as his smiled vanished with a fleeting lick of his lips. Your lips parted and all at once you felt his on yours. With eyes closed, your hands reached for the hem of his shirt to tug at it and his were brought lightly to the back of your waist. His touch was light, his fingers were barely on you yet you felt the undeniable current they radiated.
Finally finding the courage to press his hand against you, you realized your chest was nothing but centimeters away from his. His lips, which had braved themselves and now tugged at yours delicately, left yours and a breathless sigh escaped your lips.
On the verge of opening your eyes, you felt kisses being applied in the base and crook of your neck. You sighed, indulging in the pure bliss that Chanyeol gave you. Your hand, one clung onto his shoulder, and the other ventured through his brown curls that tickled at your skin.
A particularly hard pull at his hair made him stop and you wondered if you’d hurt him.
“Can I,” he applied one soft kiss on your neck and looked at you. “Mark you?”
‘Can I mark you?’ The words replayed in your mind like a broken cassette. Had you gone crazy? Or had he really just say that? And if he had, where in the world did he learn about something like that!?
You expected him to chuckle and tell you he was joking but he didn’t. His eyes remained on yours. They were the same, you realized. Despite the words that had just left his mouth, words you would’ve never expected listening from him, you realized the tenderness in his eyes remained, even more when you noticed the light shade of pink that creeped up his cheeks and the soft touch of his hand drawing a treble clef on your neck.
At him, you smiled and nodded.
He returned the smile and brushed his lips against yours one last time before applying wet kisses on your skin.
You smiled, tracing your thumb softly over the blossoming pinks and light violets on your skin. You could also not help but giggle at the image of Chanyeol, Park - ray of sunshine and innocence - Chanyeol, doing that to you.
You smiled, turning around on your heels and the skirt of your dress fluttered around you.
“Beautiful,” was all he said before applying a kiss on your lips. You giggled at his usual habit of mumbling out his thoughts.
“Ready to go?” You asked, pulling at the sleeves of your sweatshirt to cover your hands entirely– something Chanyeol found extremely cute– and he chuckled.
“Wait,” he stopped, realizing something. His hand reached slowly for the collar of your sweatshirt, which was, much to your fortune, a turtle neck. He frowned slightly. “It’s still there.”
“What,” you pouted, rubbing your neck. “I like it. Besides, it won’t go away that easily.”
Chanyeol blushed, “I-I don’t know. I like it but it looks like a bruise. Does it hurt? I feel like I hurt you in some kind of way.”
You shook your head with a smile. “It doesn’t. You did not hurt me, Yeol. If anything, I’m so happy. And instead of thinking of it as a bruise why not as a flower. It needs to be cared for and loved to bloom, to blossom in bright pinks and violets.”
Chanyeol’s face became a vivid pink and he dug his face onto your neck, “That was– You’re too much sometimes.”
You chuckled, “I know. So, should we get going?”
Chanyeol straightened himself, not looking at you and you tried to follow his eyes. Before you knew it, his hands cupped your cheeks and his lips met yours. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip slightly before pulling away and you gasped, breath having quickened along the pace of your heart.
“Indeed. You are too much sometimes,” Chanyeol nodded with a smile.
“But, I can be it too.”
Eun-bi: So where are we go–
Yerim: Erm, Eun-bi-ah, what–
Eun-bi: HOLY DANCING UNICORNS IS THAT A HICKEY, Y/N!!
You: Hehehe. I…
Yerim: What are you talking– What thE FUCK IT IS A HICKEY!!
Eun-bi:Y/n, have you be hiding stuff from us? Does our trust mean nothing anymore?
You: No that’s not-
Yerim: Park Chanyeol you little–
Eun-bi:*sniff* *sniff* After all we’ve been through.
Yerim: If you hurt her, you byuntae, Imma-
Eun-bi:*a crying mother* I just hope he makes you happier than us.
You: I should have seen this coming…
Chanyeol:A fluffy ball of embarrassment that can do nothing but stutter, hiding his face with his hands.
Chapters: 23/23 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Molly Hooper/Janine Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, James Moriarty, James Sholto (Sherlock), Mike Stamford, Dimmock (Inspector), Greg Lestrade, Molly Hooper, Janine (Sherlock), Bill Wiggins, Sally Donovan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Mrs. Hudson, Philip Anderson, Sebastian Moran, Victor Trevor Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Pirates, Alternate Universe - Historical, Piratelock, Enemies to Lovers, Johnlock - Freeform, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sailing, The Golden Age of Piracy, NOT Caribbean pirates, BAMF Sherlock, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, UST, Masturbation, BAMF John, Turtle of Fortune, First Kiss, Hookus Interruptus, Whales, Age of Sail, Alternate Universe - Age of Sail, Sea Battle, Canon-Typical Violence, Flirting, knifethrowing, RST, Facial Shaving, Storms, Blood and Injury, but minor, Mentions of past drug use, long meaningful conversations, Sherlock Plays the Violin, violin, Moonlight, Sexual Content, Schmoop, Action/Adventure, Adventure, Action, Action & Romance, Minor Character Death, very heavily implied Mystrade, Happy Ending Summary: Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship’s surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there’s more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin’ the eye, he has to choose–is it a pirate’s life for him?
Seems like a good day to be rebloggin’ this fine tale. :D
A month before this summer started, I drove to my hometown
to run on roads I ran on when I was young, to trade my usual route on city
streets for hills, stone walls, wide barns, farmhouses, cows there munching
grass, empty fields. A warm, soft day, and I was feeling fine, air in and out
of my lungs, feeling well carried by the muscles in my legs, ponytail at swish
across my shoulders. Some miles in, near a vernal pond, a turtle had been
crushed, freshly so, run over by a car. I stopped to look. Flipped upside down,
the base of its shell was smooth, amber colored, and cracked. The under rim of
its top shell was striped with red, and the red of its blood on the road was a
red shocking in its aliveness. I crouched to get a better look. A small pile of
its guts, propelled out of its body, lay shining a few inches away, coiled like
a little heap of earthworms.
I am no haruspex, no augur. I cannot read the future in the
splay of viscera across the cratered cement of a suburban back road. I crouched
by this small dead thing on a day in the lead up to summer when the world was on
the verge of bursting, emerging in its lush summer dress like a girl coming
down the stairs in a gown. I crouched by the turtle and a car or two sped by
and I wondered, is this what normal people do?
Guts on the road and there’s no telling what will happen,
and here again we’re back to talk of what it is to be at home with question
marks, the struggle of not getting crushed and cracked open by the press of
immediate need. It’s hard knowing what you want because in it there’s the risk
you might not get it.
This morning, at the bottom of my bag, I found a slip of
paper, a fortune from a fortune cookie. You
have both a lot of ideas and the energy to put them into action. I do not
remember seeing this before. I have no idea where it came from. But I am
grateful for the timing of its appearance.
Done examining the turtle, I rose, continued on my run.
Before my heartrate had a chance to rise again, another chance for
prognostication, this time in the form of a frog who’d also been flattened by a
car, the entirety of its guts squeezed out of its mouth. Poor small friends,
crushed when the world was warming again, on the move when the season was new.
The risk of wanting, the risk of waking up to change. There were these two, the
future in the angle of their intestines, and what I can see from it now, what
those guts tell me now: there were others I couldn’t see, ones who’d made it
safe across the street, to live and thrive in the face of all the risks.