#harmless as an arrow

[sensepi]

Now idk how close this is to his canon personality

But i’ll manifest it either way because it is god👏 damn👏 precious

Chief sans belongs to @hheisa

[ha-answers]

[ARC 2: THE RUNAWAY]

CONVERSATION TAKES PLACE AFTER THE FIGHTING

(You’re not missing anything, i just decided to skip drawing more fighting scenes)

………….

“What’s your name”

“………..”

“….Listen i’m, sorry for throwing it to you 20 times ok-“

“21”

“What ?”

“You threw those things towards me, 21 times”

“……….”

“Well ?”

“ᶦ’ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁻ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉ⁻”

“Huhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ?”

“I Said

I’m sORry that you’re sUch a PAIN in the ASS”

“That’s it” He throws his hand up, surrendering himself to this mentally draining conversation, they just fought before, went through hours of awkward silent to just end up with whatever is going on right now

Fuck it we ball

“Hey-, where are you going-“

“Somewhere away from you, you’re up and well now, find your way back to, wherever you’re from”

“…..” They start picking up their pace and follow suits, he made it very clear how one sided this trip is, constantly trying to pick routes that are physically demanding, using unconventional ways to get through the areas, yet despite all of that he never seems to manage to successfully cut them off, they fall and plummet, stumble and trip, yet even after all that, they never seem to be giving up

He watches them with disinterest, honestly it’s painful to see them try to pathetically get through from time to time, they don’t seem to be accustomed to living outside in the wild, seriously he doesn’t know how are they still alive at this point, they probably wouldn’t last any longer

Is what he had initially thought before looking back at the current reality of 2 iterator one shelter and a soundly asleep slugcat neatly situated in one cramped space

“…………

how long are you going to keep this up”

They don’t respond, instead they keep their gaze firm, and to the ground, contemplating, thinking, worrying

…………………

He sighs

“Arrow”

“What ?”

“You can call me Arrow, just that”

“Oh, uh, um-

….Metric, Unparalleled….Metric

nice, to meet you”

“……

So you can be polite but can’t spit out one decent apology ?”

A lot of dirts and dust were kicked towards one another that day

——————————————————————

[HARMLESS AS AN ARROW] HA has reconnected

[UNPARALLELED METRIC] UM has connected

——————————————————————

Beginning

Prev

[splynter]

A doodle of Ending with Arrow to start us off :D

Harmless as an Arrow (HAAA) is by @sensepi :3c

[littlefankingdom]

His children causing problems are not enough, Bruce also teaches his friends' children how to be a bit chaotic.

Proof: Injustice 2, with Connor, the son of Oliver and Dinah

[smilesrobotlover]

Take this meme from whumptober out of context 💀💀

[roughentumble]

Is it just me or does Henry Cavill seem…lowkey ND? I dunno. Something seems kind of "off" about him, but not in a sinister way. His interests, the way he'll go into rambling, info-dumps. He even admitted in a recent interview he still can be a bit naive and too trusting of people's intentions. I'm not saying he definitely is, but he's pinging the "radar" for me.

not to sound rude but i try not to "diagnose" celebrities, or speculate about their "true" sexuality/gender/etc, that sort of thing, in anything other than a joking/offhand comment sort of way

though i will say that if youre seeing bits of yourself in interviews and BTS footage of him, its always nice to feel like you can see yourself in the industry or relate to the people who work there, no matter what their diagnoses' might be!

[shadowtraveled]

"mithrun is the only real monsterfucker in dungeon meshi" is objectively the funniest bit you can get out of his everything, but in all seriousness i think his attraction to his love interest is deliberately overstated—and that makes sense, because romantic jealousy is a classic and digestible motive, which is explicitly what kabru was aiming for in condensing mithrun's backstory, and also because until chapter 94, mithrun wasn't willing to admit to the true nature of his desires.

but because romantic envy is both classic and digestible, it probably isn’t a unique enough or complicated enough desire to tempt a demon’s appetite. mithrun’s wish, as far as we can figure from kabru’s reduced retelling, was to have a life in which he had never become one of the canaries, and that carries like 3857 implications and desires within it. that’s delicious. his love interest acts as sort of a red herring to his motivation for making it, though. (side note: i'm saying "love interest" here because, keeping in mind that i barely speak japanese on a good day anymore, "想い人" is something i'd usually take as just kind of an old-fashioned and romantic way to refer to a lover, but in context i wonder if both the connotation of yearning and the vagueness are intentional, and i think this phrasing gets those aspects of it more effectively. anyway.)

mithrun considered his love interest to be untrustworthy. there was a minute where i thought that comment might be about a similar-looking elf (yugin, one of his squad members), but comparing the two…

the "sketchy" arrow is definitely referring to the elf we know as his love interest—the bangs go toward her right, she only has the one forehead ornament, and, most notably, her ears aren't notched.

every time she’s given a full-body depiction in his dungeon, she’s drawn as a chimera, with the body of a snake from the waist down. (side note: the “what if a dungeon has chimeras before reaching level 4?”/“then the dungeon lord is unstable” exchange just being mithrun grilling his past self alive is so funny. he’s so. but anyway) there are a couple things about this.

first, the snake part of the chimera appears to be modeled after some species of coral snake mimic

which, in the biology-for-fun manga, i… doubt is a coincidence, especially with the added context of the “untrustworthy” comment. the dungeon’s conjured illusion of mithrun’s love interest was a harmless copycat of a venomous original. for whatever reason, he felt this person was a threat and made up a "safe" version of her to be in a relationship with, and while it’s definitely possible to be attracted to or even love someone you find to be toxic and/or intimidating, when you take that into consideration alongside the configuration of her body, you get some interesting implications.

which brings us to our second point: if we assume that mithrun was not in fact fucking a snake, then sexual attraction, at least, was so far removed from his idea of a relationship with this person that he did not even bother to keep her dungeon copy human enough to maintain the illusion of the option of a sexual relationship. this is somewhat echoed in the depictions of their interactions, which also imply a frankly unexpected romantic distance. she kisses his cheek and he doesn't seem to react; she's at the edge of a narrow bed with only one set of pillows, on top of his blankets while he's underneath them.

the kiss is particularly interesting because it seems to contrast the text. kabru's narration tells us this was everything mithrun could have asked for, but mithrun is there looking unreadable to pensive, likely because this is right before the panel that makes it clear things in the dungeon are beginning to go wrong.

walking through this backwards for a minute, we have the physical barrier of his bedding and the spatial separation inherent in a bed made for one person, the emotional barrier of his mounting anxiety getting in the way of his ability to enjoy the affection he sought, and... the snake, which historically carries the connotation of temptation, yes, but also mistrust, barring physical intimacy. okay. ok. if a dungeon reflects the mentality of its lord, all of this might suggest that mithrun was not able to have any real desire for a relationship with this person. his unwillingness to be vulnerable or let another person in was insurmountable. but in that case, why was she such a focal point that she remained to the end, after his dungeon had stopped creating iterations of his friends to come and visit him? why would he get so upset over her meeting with his brother that he became lord of a dungeon about it?

well. mithrun's brother was also interested in her, probably genuinely. and mithrun had to win.

you have an older brother who your parents completely ignore, probably in part because he is chronically ill/disabled and almost definitely in part because he received a ton of recessive traits that resulted in rumors that he was an illegitimate child. you are aware, most likely because those same parents fucking told you, that you actually are an illegitimate child. but they keep you around because you had the good fortune of looking just like your mother. what can that possibly teach you but that you, like your brother, are disposable?

it's utterly unsurprising that mithrun, under these circumstances, developed a pathological need to be better than everyone around him. people don't keep you otherwise. i'd argue this is also why he says he looked down on everyone he knew while milsiril claims his dungeon reeked of feelings of inferiority—he sought out people's worst traits and prioritized them in his mind to protect his already extremely fragile sense of self-worth, and all the while he tried to be as likable and high-performing as he possibly could be. his parents disposed of him anyway, but even then he tried to keep up the performance. he was kind to everyone. he never once lost to a dungeon.

when he saw his "love interest" meeting up with his brother, what he saw was himself being replaced by a person his parents had always treated as worthless, and if that was what they thought of the child they'd kept, what value could anyone possibly see in the bastard they'd given away to die? mithrun and kabru tell the story like he wanted to win this unnamed elf's heart, but it was never about being with her. it was about cementing his worth, proving that he didn't deserve to be thrown away.

and so it's particularly cruel that his demon discarded him, too. but maybe it's also particularly gentle that, in the end, there was someone who refused to even consider giving up on him.

kui laid it out in three panels better than i could hope to.

yeah. it's love. you wanted to be loved, even when the only way you were able to understand it was through the desire to be wanted, and you wanted that so badly that the idea of being consumed felt like the promise of finally mattering to someone.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

This makes me incredibly angry.

[ID: Screenshots of a Facebook post from user Advocatus Peregrini, which reads:

I was conversing with a fully-grown adult a few days ago, born and educated in the USA, who let this little gem drop:

"Well, it's like Shakespeare said, "Love conquers all!""

I pointed out that Shakespeare never said that, Virgil did, (Eclogues X) and Chaucer after him (Canterbury Tales.)

She said, "Oh I'm sure Shakespeare said that. In Romeo and Juliet!"

I sighed. I've been in that play several times, in different roles, and even directed it. That text does not occur in it.

But the real grind-my-teeth moment here was that if Romeo and Juliet can be said to have a message, it is most certainly not "Love conquers all," seeing as the lovers die by their own hands with a trail of their friends and relations' corpses in their wake.

Neither this fact, nor the fact that I knew the play, nor my explanation that Virgil and Chaucer used the phrase long before Shakespeare's birth dented her determination that "Love conquers all" came from Shakespeare.

"You don't know ALL the versions!" she protested.

All the versions?

Alternative Bard?

With every instinct screaming at me to let the matter drop, warning me that some horror that will not soon be absent from my nightmares waited around the next corner of this conversation. I pressed on.

It was a decision I was soon to regret.

I asked when she had first read "Romeo and Juliet." She said she had only read it once, when she was in Junior High. In the version she was taught, Romeo and Juliet survive, are reconciled with their parents, and are married in the church with their friends Mercutio and Tybalt arm in arm in the wedding party.

"Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint."

It turned out that her school had their own "version" of Romeo and Juliet, with an "uplifting" ending. This was printed and distributed by a religious education publisher. And it was the only version of the story that she had ever read. Of course she had HEARD other people say that the story was a tragedy, but she just assumed they were wrong.

And she did not see why MY version of Shakespeare should be considered better than HER Shakespeare, which, after all, had a much more wholesome ending.

I explained, in vain, that "my" version is definitive because Shakespeare actually wrote it (quiet, you Oxfordians. Don't make me stop this car) and the message of the play - that when adult stubbornness meets youthful impulsiveness tragedy ensues - is lost in the ersatz, happy-clappy ending.

She said the ending that had been Frankensteined onto Shakespeare's play by the "Christian Education" publisher was better than the original ending, "if the ending is as sad as you say it is."

At this point, I concluded that this was a person who deserved to go through the rest of her life "...safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!" I bid her adieu.

After the conversation, I wondered, darkly, if that was to be the fate of Shakespeare, and all other literature if the happy-clappy people get their way - as harmless and "uplifiting" as a cheerleader's chant.

I wondered what these bowdlerizers would do with "Hamlet?" or worse, "Titus Andronicus" or "MacB-" Nothing wholesome, I'm sure. Oh, that's right, what they can't appropriate, they ban. Or burn.

In trying to protect children, we leave them undefended from "...the slings and arrows" that life will no doubt throw their way. Shakespeare raises the issues of tragedy - the fatal flaw, the last turning, the role of fate, as well or better than any author before or since. He is a gentle tutor, much to be preferred over that stern and dangerous teacher, Experientia Inopinatum.

But, as ever, it really isn't about the children. It's about the adults, and their desire to avoid answering difficult questions from agile young minds, who know no fear and swarm like eager flies around questions that have been boggling our best minds for millenia. To answer the questions that literature raises, you have to have thought deeply about them yourself. And that is something that few dare to do.]  end id

[just-null-cult]

Thinking….. thinking of yandere noritoshi

me too....

Noritoshi is suspicious of you at the worst of times. The same faint crease on his brow always appears when he's trying to hide being bothered by something.

This time? Because you've been focusing on your phone rather than him for a little bit too long...... He trusts you, of course he does! its just, he doesn't trust others. What if you end up talking with somebody for too long and they try whisking you away?

Obviously it's most likely nothing and you're enjoying your time doing who knows what on the phone that he's not allowed to check because you told him he couldn't no matter how many times he asked. Noritoshi still stares at your phone intensely when its sitting somewhere, itching to take a quick peek.. it'll be harmless, you don't even have to know!

Yet, his mind wanders to the possibility of getting caught. He'd rather spear arrows through his palm than be gazed at with disapproval by you. Its only natural to have privacy, he tells himself. So, begrudgingly, Noritoshi obeys and watches you on the stupid little phone.

The phone that contains a lot of mindless entertainment and important files. The same phone that holds a lot of personal information you keep to yourself. The same damn phone he's been itching to get his hands on ever since you began smiling at the device.

Why aren't you showing him what's so funny? Oh, right, because he could care less. All he cares about is that your attention is off of him and onto something else that could easily lead you to interact with someone else. It becomes too much and he acts emotionally, tilting the phone down and confronting you. It's not an accusation, just a question. Tell him he's wrong, he's almost begging you to tell him he's wrong. He just wants your attention again, so forgive him if he acts irrational. He'll make up for it, he promises.

Though, if you're alright with Noritoshi looking through your phone, his looming shadow over your shoulder will be a common occurrence every time you turn on your device. He might as well stop using his own with how much he likes holding onto yours. It's just to help you carry your things, of course. He's so gentlemanly isn't he? Go on, praise him!

[sensepi]

Someone bout to get blasted

[ha-answers]

I found the perfect hat for you, Arrow

“Well ? How does it look ?”

[fand0mslut]

rest [ sokka x reader ]

a/n — i kinda hate this LOL but i have not written for a while and needed to just do a little blurb to get me back into it. open to requests !!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

the night was unusually still, the cold and pitch black seemingly freezing time. my friends slept, peacefully, huddled together against appa’s warmth. i rarely slept that well, rarely slept at all.

i sighed, pushing myself off the ground and letting my legs carry me into the forest. i stopped when i hit the small clearing that overlooked the cliff side, my eyes lazily scanning the scenery. i folded my legs beneath me, sinking into the earth with a deep exhale.

a shadow flitted across the valley before me. i scrambled to my feet, instinctively striking a defensive pose. these days, the enemy was always a step ahead of us; nowhere was safe.

my nerves settled as the bird dove into the canyons, out of eye shot. a bird! i mentally berated myself for letting the harmless creature frighten me, letting it catch me off guard.

“y/n?” i flipped around, pulling an arrow from the quiver that rested across my chest and loading my bow in one fluent motion, aiming at my new target.

sokka’s hands flew up in surrender, eyes wide.

“it’s me! it’s just me,” he called out as i lowered my weapon, doing a 360. someone, something was watching. i knew it.

he stepped towards me cautiously, blue eyes gentle as he pulled the weapon from my grip.

“y/n, i think you need some sleep,” he said, eyes scanning me carefully. i stared at him, scoffing.

my words were quick, jumbled and frantic as they tumbled from my lips. “i can’t, sokka, someone needs to stay on watch!”

“shh,” he whispered as he moved closer to me, slowly wrapping his arms around me. “i’ll stay on watch. you need to rest, you’re exhausted.”

i deflated, his words triggering the tiredness that washed over me. he held me tight against him as we made our way back to the camp, where everyone was still sleeping soundly.

i collapsed against appa as soon as we returned, sokka following not long after me. he pulled his blanket around us, arms snaking around my waist again, eyes awake and alert.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he whispered into my temple, hands slowly combing through my hair. “you’re safe. get some rest.”

my eyes fluttered closed, and, slowly but surely, sleep found me

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 2 <<Part 1

-You are sitting on a bench in the lakeside park, reading a book and enjoying the bright winter sunshine when a cold nose presses into your hand. You look up to find a blue pitbull nuzzling you for pets. “Oh hi there, baby,” you coo, scratching his broad head without a thought. You follow the leash to the owner, and are very surprised to see Mr. Wick standing there, looking endearingly embarrassed about it all. “Sorry,” he says. “He pulled me over here.” He gives the dog a look as it leans against you, getting side scritches with a blissed-out doggo look. You have a notion that Mr. Wick might be jealous, somehow, but you push it away.

“That’s ok. What a good boy. What’s his name?”

“Um…Dog.”

You smirk up at him. “Original.”

He sighs, looking at you through his hair, and it pulls at your heartstrings for some reason. You pat the bench beside you, and he accepts, though he sits as far away as he can. “He likes you,” he says, looking ruefully down at the dog. “Do you have pets?”

“No,” you admit. “I travel too much.”

“Yeah?”

You can tell he’s surprised to hear this. Most people are. But you live frugally on your barista’s salary so you can go abroad for a month or so. You’re a budget traveler for sure, but you’ve been all over the world.

“Yes. I’m going to Italy this summer.”

“Sounds nice.”

“You’ve been?”

“Several times. For work.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m retired.” He doesn’t elaborate, and you leave it for now. You don’t really talk anymore, just look at the lake, and pet his dog who leans all his solid weight against your leg. You are content in the companionable silence.

You think he is too.

- It’s interesting sometimes, watching the interpersonal pageants of the regulars. When thrice divorced Victoria Fraser-Sims lays eyes on Mr. Wick for the first time in what you have come to consider his corner, she starts coming in for a lot more no-fat double-shot sugar-free vanilla lattés. All the locals are quite…aware…of Vicky’s predatory habits. A part of you wonders if you should warn Mr. Wick, but you reckon a single man who looks like him is quite used to fending off hungry cougars.

She starts by sitting near his table in her tight workout clothes, ostensibly bending over to pick up repeatedly dropped objects, affording various views of her generous cleavage and spin-class toned rear end. You know you have no right to feel so pleased that Mr. Wick seems to ignore her.

But then she ups her game, so bold as to sit down at his table with him to chat. He talks to her politely. One day, she actually succeeds in making him laugh. You hear it, loosed like an arrow that strikes you from across the room.

You have zero right to be jealous, of course, but you can’t help it. You and Mr. Wick have a thing.

Maybe just in your own head, but still.

But maybe they would be a good couple, you reason sadly, making yourself think realistically. Closer to the same age. And he does seem so lonely.

A few days later they come in the door together, seeming content, and your heart plummets to your feet. Holy shit, she actually pulled it off. They’re dating, you’re perfectly convinced.

In that moment you decide to back off. Mr. Wick is at least twenty years your elder. What the fuck would he want with an awkward little gremlin like you? It’s amazing sometimes, how well you can delude yourself. A curse of having a vivid imagination, perhaps. He’s just polite, and you are kind to him, because he seems a little broken. You resolve to behave. No more quips. No more teasing. From this day forward it shall be only, Here’s your coffee, yes sir, have a good day.

You’ve never been terribly good at keeping resolutions, but you’re going to try.

-Your determination to leave Mr. Wick alone is timed conveniently with a new hire who is around your age. He is and cute, and you get on immediately. Your flirting is fairly harmless, though you know the shop is filled with loud laughter from the two of you when your shifts coincide. Sometimes you feel Mr. Wick looking over at you after you’ve had a good chortle, and you sense he is annoyed.

Once, you catch him glaring at Brian’s back like he might like to carve the boy’s liver.

You try to quiet down, but it never really lasts. It’s been a while, since you’ve met someone who you click with so well. A comrade makes working in the service industry slightly more endurable, after all.

-One day, you burn yourself on the steamer wand while Mr. Wick is waiting for his order. Maybe it’s the volume of the unladylike expletive that spills from your lips, but he does not hesitate to come around the counter to check on you. It hurts like a motherfucker, and while you blink back tears you are quick to dig out ice to put on it. He even more quickly bats it into the sink, flipping the faucet on. “Cold water is better.”

Before you know it he is guiding your wrist into the stream with a gentle but exacting grip. “Hold that there,” he instructs. You can’t fathom disobeying him.

Brian stares rather dumbfoundedly at the customer behind the counter. “Um…sir? You can’t be back here.”

 “Then get her the first aid kit instead of standing there looking useless,” he snaps, and the young man jumps into action, scurrying away.

John gives a low whistle once you’ve finished with the cold water, blotting you dry at the butt end of the counter. “You got yourself good.”

“It’s not the first time,” you sigh. You’re not particularly clumsy, but it happens when you’re juggling five things at once to keep the drink orders moving.

John bandages the burn for you, frowning at the salve provided in the first aid kit that expired years ago, but deciding it will do in a pinch. His long-fingered hands are precise, but gentle, and as he touches you, you feel your brain turn to mush. You can’t remember the last time someone took care of you like this.

Maybe he’s not mad at you after all.

Later that day you appear from the back, to find a little paper pharmacy bag on the counter with your name written in concise black print. Inside there is more ointment, large Band-aids, and a little Snickers chocolate bar.

How did he know it’s your favorite?

Even though you didn’t see him come or go, you know it was Mr. Wick, and this small gesture touches you to tips of your toes.

[shooting-love-arrows]

I might be cringe-

How about a detective/journaliest reader entering a haunted library or mental hospital or anything? Where the yandere is actually the one who ordered reader's boss to send them there? Or just knew how to pop reader's interest

Dear @mil-vc,

It's not cringy at all. Here's my interpretation of your request. Have a nice day!

@shooting-love-arrows

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 [𝐎𝐂] who lures their darling into their trap

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 [𝐎𝐂] x [JOURNALIST] reader (gender not mentioned/impled/specified) Tw. another floating red flag, obsessive/creepy behavior, possession, murder (?), rituals, supernatural activities, it takes a darker turn so yeah…

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who became so desperate to interact with you face to face that one day, they decided to possess your idiotic boss. Their plan was carefully thought over and had a clear goal at the end of it. The way there was long, complicated and tedious. It took a lot of energy and effort since they were tied by invisible strings to the place they died. However they knew it would be worth it in the end. After all it was for you. And once they succeeded? 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 decided to use it to its fullest. It was a once in a lifetime chance.

“I summon thee, hear me. I am in need to borrow the body of a mortal. Hear me!” After the last word left their mouth, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 were blinded by the light. When they opened them again, they successfully possessed the body of your boss.

Who lures you into their trap. After the possession, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 had no time to waste. Since they acquired quite a lot of knowledge about you. Being a journalist, they knew you treasure your job, were exceptionally good at it and you were a curious little thing too. Taking into consideration all those facts, you basically gave them a solution on the golden plate. But to you, it came as a surprise that your (possessed) boss gives you a job to investigate the supposed haunted gothic mansion.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Your (possessed) boss' stare was unnerving to say the least. His beady eyes were glued to you since the moment you entered his office. You cleared your throat, cutting the awkward silence. You ‘boss’ snapped out of the trace and straightened his back. “I want you to investigate a supposed haunted mansion.” ‘he’ informed you and gave you a thin folder of documents related to the said place. “Our source said that something suspicious is taking place there.” Of course, you accepted it.

Who wants to eagerly welcome you in their 'humble' abode. Well, as much as ghosts can welcome their guests. The gothic mansion might be a bit dusty, the time of its splendor long since passed but still! It was enormous and what matters is what it can become in the future. And his welcome tactic? They like to spook you. It's all harmless tho! Shifting objects around. Imitating sounds like footspes or whispers in your ears. Playing with your flashlight. Those all are little tricks and parts of their personality from where 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 were still alive. 

You stepped into another endless hall of the supposed haunted mansion, shining your flashlight around.  “Ah!” You jumped back when a wooden chair was tipped back and fell. Like a ripple in the water, the echo of its fall carried around the empty halls. Your heartbeat began to pick.. The longer you stayed there, the more paranoid you became. Something just wasn’t right with this place…Scratch that, everything was wrong with it. Then your flashlight started to flicker.  “Oh no, no, no.” You started to visibly panicked and began hitting your only source of light. You even turned to praying to let it work properly again. Thankfully it seemed to work because the flickering stopped.  You sighed in relief just as a violent shiver racked your body. You began to regret taking that task. Meanwhile 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 grinned playfully and moved their fingers along your spine. 

Who decided to trap you in the said place by manipulating energy to tie to the place. It was another step of their plan.𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 had you right where they wanted you to be and everything was prepared early. Slowly but surely, they began to lead you into the direction of a hidden chamber which was a magic room. And when you crossed its threshold, your fate was sealed.

“I hope you’ll understand what I’m about to do is for your own good. For us to be happy for all of the eternity.”

Who processes to possess you and finalize the ritual. Since they were in the place they were tied to, their powers and energy was much stronger so possessing you came more easily to them. Unfortunately, they couldn’t fully appreciate being in your body. This step was their least favorite part of their plan but it needed to be done. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 steered your body in the middle of the room and started muttering incantations. They reached for the ancient dagger laying by your feet and raised it to be at the same level as your beating heart. With the last words of an ancient language leaving their mouth, they drove the weapon into your heart. The ritual was completed. 

“Welcome home, love.” The news about your dissapearance ended up being on the cover of the very newspaper you worked for.

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[maple-the-awesome]

Body Swap || Part 1/2

Part 2 ||

Pairings: Wild, Four, Sky, Hyrule x Reader

Overview: A wizard's spell leaves you both in a state of confusion, especially upon realizing you're no longer in your assigned bodies. No Wind for this one, so we'll just give him a cookie and spare him the trauma for today -.-/🍪 The other boys are at my mercy, though

Zelda Masterlist 💙Fandom Masterlist

This dungeon had been going great - so great, in fact, that you were actually sad to reach the end of it. Sure, the puzzles were a pain in the butt and the miniboss was an embarrassing waste of time, but what had made it all worth it was the fact that you had gone through every trial right by Link’s side. 

In a group of ten travelers, a date day with just the two of you is rare - extremely and unjustly rare - therefore you had both jumped at the chance of completing this dungeon alone together. Everything was going swimmingly, too, right down to the main boss battle. A tiny, itty bitty yet still very evil wizard is nothing compared to your combined force, so you expected it to be a piece of cake that would end in a wonderful memory to look back on later. Instead, it ended in a very different, less appreciated way.

One more hit was all it should've taken to defeat the little guy, however right as Link raised his bow for the final arrow, the wizard began swinging its wand around in a last ditch effort for success. Fearing for your partner's safety, you had rushed over with your shield, hoping to use it to block whatever spell the wizard planned, but in an unexpected twist, said spell turned into a cloud of smoke instead of a ball of energy like you expected.

As the boss made his escape, the fumes of his final spell poisoned the air and entered your lungs with an uncomfortable burn. Link and you both fell to your knees in coughing fits, suddenly feeling dizzy and woozy much to your concern...

Aside from the initial wave of nausea you felt, that wizard's spell seemed like nothing more than a harmless distraction for escape, at least that's what you would've went on thinking if not for the sight that greeted you once the smoke officially cleared.

"Oh jeez! ...Uhhh, are you alright?" Although a shock indeed, you remain calm with your first priority being to check on Wild who's still fanning away the fumes from his face.

"Yeah, I'm alrig -" He freezes almost as soon as the words are said, his eyes immediately shooting open to look down at his body - or rather your body that he's suddenly found himself in, "WHAT THE -?! HOW AM I - I'M YOU?!"

“Very observant, Wild,” You roll your eyes before looking around the room to find no sign of that wizard. Whether that’s fortunate or unfortunate might depend on your ability to reverse this little problem he’s now left you both with, “...Guess that little guy was such a sore loser he decided to play dirty then retreat. What a coward.”

Standing up, you start examining yourself for possible injuries - ones that weren't already a part of Wild's collection, that is. Thankfully you see nothing aside from a small cut above your hip from a hit he had taken earlier; an easy fix with the help of a red potion. If only the same could be said about your incredibly tangled hair that you pull a leafed branch out of with a cringe, "When was the last time you've taken a bath?"

"Rude!"

"Personal hygiene is very important. It keeps you from harboring full-on ecosystems in your hair."

"...You sound just like the Captain…" Wild mumbles under his breath while pushing himself off the ground. Once up, he wobbles and holds his arms out for balance as if he’s never stood on two legs before.

"Oh, the Captain! He’s going to have the time of his life with this one - all the boys will, I'm sure,” In Wild's opinion, your teasing smirk doesn’t quite carry the same effect as it would if on your assigned face. Instead, it looks a bit...silly to see you speaking as himself and judging on your sniffled laughter, he, too, must look equally as funny glaring back at you as you. 

"Ugh. I can already hear Twilight blaming us for not being careful enough," He groans, subconsciously runs his hand over his arm which is smooth like silk rather than being rough with scars. Huh. He had forgotten how that felt...

"Yep, we're in for a heap of nagging and annoying jokes when we get back, but I say we at least have some fun with it while we can. Wanna see how long it takes anyone to notice?" You nudge his side as you pass by towards the exit of the boss chamber, your suggestion finally lifting his spirits.

"I don’t know. It could take them all night if we keep our mouths shut about it."

"No way. They'll notice as soon as I do something stupid and you don't, which should take approximately an hour at most…I mean, assuming that you’re not asked to make dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well in that case, they’ll definitely notice then. You’re a terrible cook.”

“Rude!”

You moan while rubbing your burning eyes. Even with them closed, you can still see remnants of the same flashy colors that had followed after that wizard’s stupid spell; like a firework show inside your eyelids that's so realistic you can actively smell the gunpowder.

"Don't panic," You hear someone say. You assume it must be Four since he's the only other person here, although his voice sounds different, almost like…

"Don't...? Why would I panic - AHH!" Once finally being able to see straight, you expected to find Four kneeling in front of you, but instead you just see yourself. It's as if you're looking directly into a mirror until you glance down at your hands. That's when you let out a shout, doing the exact opposite of what Four asked by instantly panicking upon realizing they aren't actually your hands, but his. Your clothes, your hair, your BODY; IT’S ALL HIM!

"I’M YOU!”

"I can see that."

"YOU’RE ME?!”

"Yes."

"...H-How are you not freaking out?" You blink at him - er, you? Whoever! You blink at who should be Four but is actually you as he simply shrugs in response to your question as if this is just another Tuesday for him!

"This isn’t really the ‘craziest’ thing that's happened to me. Maybe in the top three, but..."

You stare at him for a long minute, wanting to be angry that he's behaving so calmly right now, although he does have somewhat of a reputation for being one of the more relaxed Link's, not to mention the pair of you have seen some pretty crazy stuff during your adventures, both separate and together.

Running a hand through your hair, you take deep breathes and try your best not to be so freaked out especially once remembering this isn't technically your hair you're touching which makes you instantly stop the action, "...What do we do to fix this?"

"I...don't know."

"You 'don't know'? What, are we supposed to just live like this forever?!"

"No, of course not!" He crosses his arms uncomfortably and sighs, "We'll find a way to reverse the spell and get back to our normal bodies. We're in Legend’s world, but I think he mentioned that his Zelda knows some magic, so if we can get to the Castle, she might be able to help us."

You groan, running your hand over your face in irritation. You were having such a good day until this point! Why can't the universe allow you just one normal evening with your boyfriend, huh? Is that too much to ask for?

Four offers you a hand and helps you up. Once on your feet, you realize yet another detail about your current situation that makes you uncomfortable, "Woah. I'm not used to looking at myself from another perspective like this…or being so low to the ground.”

Four rolls his eyes at your comment before taking your hand and dragging you after him outside of the dungeon.

"Oh, come on! Doesn't it weird you out, too? Looking at yourself from my point of view while I’m in your body?"

"Of course, it’s weird,” He sighs again, using his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “I'm just considering myself lucky I'm only looking at one of me."

"...One?"

"Sky? You alright?" You crawl blindly out of the smoke cloud, coughing along the way while keeping your eyes squeezed shut to prevent anything from getting in them. Although you receive no verbal reply, you can at least relax upon hearing Sky's wheezing close by. 

You’re about to repeat your question, yet your voice dies within your throat. Once opening your eyes, you see yourself kneeled on the ground where you fan smoke away from your nose with a face scrunched up in irritation – except that’s not really you. It can’t be! You’re right here, so how is it that you’re suddenly able to look at yourself through a third person perspective? …Then you look down, slowly but surely putting the pieces together in your head.

"...Sky?" 

Just as predicted, the 'other you' looks up in response, even giving a small hum before their eyes go wide with the same shock you undoubtedly mirror.

“(Y/n)? Is that you? You’re –“

“- You…And you’re me,” It doesn’t matter how many times you close your eyes and reopen them. Each time, you’re greeted by the same sight. Thanks to that stupid wizard, you’ve switched bodies with Sky which definitely wasn’t on your agenda for today…or any other, for that matter. Worst part? Neither of you know a thing about magic to reserve this, “…Shit…”

“M-Maybe someone else knows how to fix this?” Sky suggests hopefully, although judging on his waivered smile, even he must realize it’s a long shot. Not many Links are accustomed to magic either, and believe it or not, no one’s been in this situation yet not that they’ve ever cared to share, anyway.

“Here’s to hoping…Come on, we should at least get out of this place before that wizard comes back and switches our heads,” Sky gulps, but nods.

Standing to your feet, you brush yourself off and prepare to make your exit from this dark boss’s chamber, however you pause in place when you notice Sky following you at much slower pace, his posture rather stiff as he holds his arms slightly away from himself, “…Why are you walking like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” You copy his stance then give him a pointed look that makes him bow his head in embarrassment.

“I-I don’t want to touch something I’m not supposed to!”

"Awww, that’s sweet, but dude, you can relax. They're only feminine arms. They won't kill you," You roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at how careful and sweet he's trying to be. If there’s one thing to be grateful for in this situation, it’s that you got switched around with a gentleman instead of a pervert, "Just don't touch my breasts or anything and we’ll be good.”

Poor Sky whimpers uncomfortably after your comment…Yeah, hopefully this situation can be solved without leaving any lasting trauma behind...

"Mmm...Hey, are you alright?"

Hyrule's voice sound so distance despite him being so close by. You wish you could see him, but every time you try to open your eyes, you're only met with blurred colors and sparkles, "...I-I think so..."

Hyrule sighs and is about to say something else, but his relief is instead punctuated with a gasp once he looks down at his hands. He whispers your name, however his voice goes unnoticed the first time. He has to shout it a bit louder for you to actually hear him. Finally, you're able to open your eyes and see a bit more clearly - at least that's what you thought before looking over to his voice and just seeing yourself.

"What kinda spell was that? My eyes aren't working right," You start vigorously rubbing them again only for Hyrule to reach out and grab your wrists to stop you.

"They're working. At least, I-I'm pretty sure they're working. You, uh, see yourself instead of me, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I see myself instead of you."

"Okay?"

Hyrule bows his head, removing his hands from wrists to stare down at them with a wobbled frown, "I don't think it's a trick of our ours. I think that spell switched our bodies."

"...Oh...Oooh!" After his words sink in, you glance down at yourself and pick at your tunic, confirming that it feels as real as it looks.

“Alright. This might seem bad, but look on the bright side: neither of us are hurt so the others can scold us too much, right? Let’s just get back to camp and –" Hyrule’s cut off when you suddenly squeal. Startled, his head snaps back up at you, fearing that perhaps you had gotten hurt somehow, yet to his surprise, you have a bright smile on your face as you tangle your fingers in your hair – or rather his hair.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! It’s just – I’ve always wondered if your hair is as soft as it looks and it definitely is!” You giggle, unable to help yourself from testing your theory personally. Hyrule's hair has always appeared to be the fluffiest out of all the Links and you've been dying to ask him if you can touch it, perhaps even braid it. Now that you technically in his body now, might as well, right? It's at least some benefit to this weird situation, “What do you use to wash it?”

"I, uh...water, I guess?"

“…”

[guess-my-next-obsession]

A New Friend (Part 1/2)

pairing: park ranger!frankie morales x f!reader

rating: M (mild sexual desire but nothing even mildly explicit, reader has a douchey boyfriend, breakups, frankie is an angel because i said so, just cutesy flirting mostly, we get sexy in part two don’t worry)

wc: 4k

frankie masterlist

Where the fuck am I?

You turned to study the woods around you, the trees notched with marks you’d made after having watched one too many survival shows on your couch looking a little too familiar for comfort.

You’d been trying to find your way back to the trail for two hours now, sunset turning into night before your eyes.

Now, you had to come to terms with the fact that you were indeed very lost, going in circles when you were supposed to be heading south—you were supposed to be heading south, right?—to your campsite, the campsite your boyfriend and his friends were at getting shitfaced, likely not even noticing your absence.

As you wandered the dark woods in hopes of finding any sort of sign or guide to safety with your dull flashlight, you considered why you even came along on this trip in the first place.

This weekend marked your fifth anniversary, plans of a trip for just the two of you becoming quickly derailed by the unexpected—at least on your part—visit of his two best friends who showed up and invited him out for a camping trip. Not wanting to spend the weekend all by yourself, contemplating the future of your relationship, you decided to join them, much to their dismay judging by the way they’d been ignoring you since the start of the trip.

This evening, you decided to go out on a walk to get some much needed air from the men who were busy pretending you didn’t exist—including your partner. That’s how you found yourself lost, stuck stumbling through a navy blue washed forest, every sound heightened from fear, your brain creating scenario after scenario of how you’d reach your demise. Be it a bear or a bobcat, a stranger or nature, your anxious heart was sure somehow, this would be the end for you if you didn’t find safety.

Luckily, after a few minutes of hopeless navigating, your flashlight shined on a wooden sign with an arrow pointing left, “Ranger Station: ¼ Mile”.

“Thank god,” you exhaled, nodding as you started off in the direction of the well-used path.

As if the universe were laughing at you, halfway to the station, you began to feel a light drizzle from the blackened skies above, the clouds that had looked harmless this afternoon now slate-grey and rumbling. Shaking your head at your luck, you started to move quicker, but it seemed the rain had the same idea, the drizzle quickly spiraling to a full downpour by the time you walked up the steps to the Ranger’s lodge.

“Please be open,” you mumbled to yourself, noticing that the lights were off inside the tiny cabin. “Please, someone fucking be here.”

You pounded on the door after your knocks failed to earn a response, your eyes frantically looking around the building for any sign of life that could help (or hurt) you. Suddenly, your luck seemed to turn as a man dressed in a tight, form fitting uniform of khaki and forest green came running up the pathway with his coat thrown over his head.

“Excuse me!” you called out over the loud, crashing thunder, pulling his eyes from the ground up to yours. He seemed startled to see you standing there, drenched from the downpour and helpless.

“Oh—sorry,” he apologized as he stepped up the porch to unlock the cabin door, guiding you inside with the flick of a light switch. “I was out sweeping for stragglers when it started to get dark, must’ve missed you.”

“I got myself pretty lost, I don’t blame you,” you chuckled, overcome by the immediate relief brought on by shelter and warmth.

The cabin was small, a warm little space washed in golden light. There was a plaid loveseat in front of a fireplace, a half-read book laying on the coffee table in front of it. Turning your head a bit, there was a kitchen nook built in, nothing extravagant, just a mini-fridge, microwave, portable stovetop, some pots and pans, and a coffee machine. Beside the kitchen rested a desk that looked more like a dinner table, littered with papers and manilla folders as well as a closed laptop. Above, there was a loft built in, though you figured you’d need to climb up there yourself if you intended to study the layout.

“So,” the Ranger’s husky, low voice interrupted your snooping. You turned to watch him as he hung his coat up on the hook by the door before kicking his boots off. “How can I help you? You mentioned you were lost?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, clearing your throat. “I don’t remember the campsite location. I’ve been wandering for hours now.”

“By yourself?” he questioned, a crease forming between his brow as he studied you better, his eyes raking over your entire form before the reality of your soaked state dawned on him. “You cold? I have some tea, or…coffee?”

“Tea sounds great, thank you.” You watched him as he nodded, walking over to the kitchen nook to get the stovetop heated and water placed in the kettle he had hidden in a cupboard. Meanwhile, you looked longingly at the fireplace, hoping that he’d notice your shiver and light it. “Do you…possibly have a spare set of clothes? Anything would help, really.”

“Oh. Sure,” he nodded, avoiding your eyes but remaining attentive as he left the kettle on the burner and walked over to a closet by the door. He tugged out a plastic bin and lifted the lid off, a stack of brand new ranger uniforms inside. “What’s your size?”

You begrudgingly disclosed that information in exchange for warmth, and soon he was setting a pair of forest green pants and a beige t-shirt in your open palms.

“Uh, the restroom’s right there.” He pointed at the closed door in the corner of the room. “I’ll light the fire.”

“Thank you,” you offered him a smile but he was still avoiding looking at you directly, so it went unseen. With an awkward nod to him, you walked into the tiny bathroom to undress and redress, the full-length mirror mounted on the door serving as a good source of entertainment as you studied the way you looked in the ranger’s uniform, the pants undeniably, and shockingly, hugging every good curve on your body.

“The, uh, tea is ready when you are!” His voice sounded through the wooden door, making you jump as you posed in the mirror. gathering your damp clothes in your hands, making sure to hide your undergarments in the pile, you walked back out into the living room, spotting the man in uniform sitting at the table/work area with a mug of his own. “Yours is on the coffee table.”

“Thank you so much, for all of this,” you gestured around and he gave you a nod, no sign of a smile on his face, but there was no apparent anger or discomfort either. “My, uh, my name is…” You gave him your name and offered another friendly smile.

“I’m Frankie,” he greeted you back. Still no smile. “The storm is gonna go on all night. I think the odds of getting back to your campsite are slim, unfortunately.”

Your heart sank a bit at the news. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust this handsome ranger to house you for a night, but the thought of being an inconvenience to yet another person made you feel sick.

“I, um, I have a tent, so…I can stay outside and you can stay in here,” he offered.

“I know I’m not an expert at this stuff but that doesn’t sound very safe.”

“There's a cover, so, it’s not too bad. Your comfort and safety take precedence. It’s sorta my job.” He shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

“I appreciate the thought, but honestly, I think I would feel more comfortable with you in here with me.” You weren’t sure why you cared so much about keeping this glum ranger around, but there was something in his eyes, in his voice that calmed you in a way you desperately craved after the weekend you had. You weren’t naive to the deceit of men, but you truly believed this one meant you no harm. Besides, you were pretty sure sleep wasn’t going to come easy tonight anyway.

“Okay,” he agreed, his voice softer than before. “There’s, uh, not much for entertainment around here.” He chuckled, watching you as you set your clothes down by the fireplace before taking a seat on the sofa. “There’s books. Lots of books, but I know that’s not everyone’s—“

“Oh, I just finished this,” you interrupted him by picking up the book from the coffee table.

“Did—was the end any good?” he asked, standing up from the table and walking over to the kitchen nook to refill his mug.

“It was. Are you liking it so far?” You turned to watch him, the sight of his shirt straining against his broad back making you feel like a cheater for the lustful images your brain decided to flood your mind with.

“I am, but I’m an anxious reader. Constantly have to fight the urge to flip to the last pages.” He laughed again and you felt yourself melt further into the sofa. “So, are you camping alone, too?”

“No,” you sighed as you shook your head and set the book down.

“Touchy subject?” he guessed, resuming his seat at the table.

“I don’t know,” you exhaled and scratched your neck, chuckling at your own predicament. “It’s my anniversary tonight, and instead of spending it with my boyfriend and his two closest friends in the middle of the woods, I’m spending it with a stranger…ranger?”

He chuckled at the rhyme and let out a sympathetic sigh. “Can’t say the first option sounded very good, either.”

“No,” you nodded, looking to him with eager eyes. “It fucking sucks! And they were just ignoring me anyway. This is the most conversation I’ve had all weekend.”

“So is he like…an avid camper or something? You guys do this often?” Frankie questioned, sitting forward with his elbows on the table, his mug held in both hands.

“No, he’s just…an avid douchebag.” Frankie’s boisterous laugh both shocked and delighted you.

“Which is why, I’m assuming, you went and got lost in the woods by yourself?”

“Yep,” you sighed and shook your head. “And the sad thing is, I bet they haven’t even realized I left.”

“It sounds like you need to make this your last anniversary,” he advised, shrugging his shoulders when you turned to look at him.

“Yeah,” you agreed with a sad whisper. “Sucks.”

Frankie studied you for a moment, something more earnest than sympathy in his eyes as you stared down at your lap, picking at your cuticles.

“Hey—“ He caught your attention, your eyes lifting to meet his from across the room. “I’ve got a few board games in case my daughter comes to stay with me on duty. We could…play one? Pass some time?”

Knowing that the only alternative was to dwell on the crumbling state of your relationship, you agreed with a soft, barely there smile and a nod.

Frankie sat down on the rug in front of the fire, clearing the coffee table before pointing to the stack of board games on the shelf below the wooden top.

“There’s Candyland, Life, Monopoly, Scrabble, and Uno.”

“Huh,” you smiled and thought about the options, your stress taken away by this kind and charming stranger tasked with sheltering you for the night, seemingly in more ways than one. “We can start with Candyland.”

“Start, huh? Gonna be up playing games all night?” he asked with a matching smile as he set up the board game. “I guess I’m not one to talk given my personal track record, but I heard that sometimes it helps to face your shit, not run from it.”

“I’ll face it in the morning,” you replied, soft and vulnerable. “Tonight, I just want to be a stranded woman in the woods playing Candyland with a park ranger.”

“Okay,” he rasped back with a smile and a nod.

“I hate you,” you kissed your teeth and rolled your eyes as you reached for the stack of Uno cards on the table, picking eight up and stuffing them in your hand previously only holding one, that near-victory long gone after he matched your +4 card. “You actually ruined my night, wow. How dare you?”

“Jeez,” he laughed and held his hands up in defense. “I didn’t expect such a violent reaction—“

“Oh, yeah right,” you rolled your eyes at him again before meeting his, your laughter fading into just a few soft, breathy chuckles the longer your eyes remained glued to his soft, brown, puppy-like stare.

“You, uh—“ he chuckled and looked down at his lap, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

“No,” you giggled and urged him on. “Tell me.”

“You just have nice eyes. That’s all.” He shrugged and went to place a card on the stack, changing the color to red.

“I think you have nice eyes, as well,” you spoke softly, almost shyly as you searched your hand for an appropriate card, choosing a “reverse” card to lay on top of his. “Very puppy-dog.”

“Puppy-dog?” he asked in a laugh, amused by the unusual comparison. “Never heard that before.”

“You know, the way puppies look when they’re begging for scraps? You’ve got that same…charm, I guess. Like I couldn’t say no to you.” You mumbled the last sentence, the words not entirely meant for him to hear.

As much as you were enjoying your time with this handsome stranger and planned to end things with your boyfriend the minute you were reunited with him, you were still a taken woman. Cheating was never your thing, but you couldn’t deny the pull to the man sitting in front of you, illuminated and washed in the golden amber light of the fireplace, the buttons on his long-sleeved beige dress shirt undone at the top, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“It’s getting late.” Frankie stood up abruptly and cleared his throat before looking at the watch on his wrist. “Two A.M. already. Sun’ll be up around six, we can head out and find your campsite then.”

“And in the meantime?” you asked, standing up as well though you weren’t sure why. Frankie’s eyes softened on you, not missing the hopeful twitch of your lip. He shook his head at you, but it was so subtle you nearly missed it.

“You’re…involved. It’s not cool,” he reminded, proving that at least one of you had your head screwed on right. “But believe me…I want to.”

“Yeah,” you nodded and looked down at your feet, embarrassed by the mere suggestion. “I—uh…yeah.”

“I’ll take the couch. You can go up into the loft. I have some clean pajamas on my bed, if you want.”

You climbed up the wooden ladder to the loft, finding a cozy space with a full-size mattress on the floor by a large window, a little lamp for reading in the corner, and a record player pre-loaded with a copy of Nirvana’s “Nevermind”. The rain was visible from the window, pattering on the glass while lightning struck in the distance, a loud boom of thunder cracking a few moments later. Lowering your eyes back to the bed, you spotted the set of red flannel pajamas at the foot.

“Mind turning the lights off so I can change?” you called out, and for a minute hoped he’d change his mind and come undress you himself.

“Sure thing,” he replied, and a moment later the cabin went black, except for the golden light of the fireplace.

You changed quickly, desperate to wear his clothes, to smell him up close for the first time, but the scent that flooded your nostrils was too clean, too soapy to have been him.

Now dressed, you walked to the fenced in ledge of the loft to watch him as he sat on the sofa, a book in hand. The fireplace illuminated him in a way that made him look painted, almost, like the product of an artist’s imagination. It was a painting you’d quite like to own, so that your eyes could study him everyday.

“Night,” he called, not looking up from his book.

“Good night,” you replied, smiling to yourself all the way to bed.

Hours had passed by, the sun now up but hidden behind the clouds, the rain pattering against the window calming to a light drizzle. You hadn’t fallen asleep the entire time, your mind spinning with thoughts of seeing your boyfriend again, of the conversation you needed to have before getting the fuck out of this godforsaken National Park.

“Morning,” Frankie greeted you as you stepped down the ladder to the main floor of the cabin. His smile served as a better stimulant than any coffee you’d ever consumed, your tired eyes going bright as you took in the sight of him scrambling eggs in the kitchenette. “Thought I should feed you before I take you back to the douchebags.”

You chuckled. “Thanks.”

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked as he scraped half of the pan of eggs onto one plate before repeating it with another. You pulled up a seat while he carried the food over, placing one in front of you and the other in front of the seat closest to yours. A smile tugged at your lips at his choice of seat.

“I tried,” you answered, remembering that he’d asked a question. “But…my brain doesn’t like to shut off.”

“I feel you there.” The sound of liquid pouring into a cup caught your attention before the waft of coffee hit your nose. You felt yourself salivating as he walked your cup over. “Creamer, sugar?”

“Neither,” you shook your head. “This is incredible, thank you, Frankie.”

“It’s no problem,” he assured as he sat down beside you. “Part of the job.”

“I doubt that,” you laughed.

“Keep the park and its visitors safe. That’s the entire job,” he argued with a tilt of his head, his fork stabbing at the eggs.

“So you do all this for every stray that shows up at your door?” you asked in a playful tone, hoping to conceal your hurt at the prospect of simply being an obligation to him even if that’s exactly what you were.

“No, I don’t typically let my strays wear my PJ’s when I shelter them.” He smiled, his eyes lowered to the flannel set you were still wearing. “And I never, ever, let them win at Candyland like I did with you.”

“Oh, let me win, huh? Someone’s a sore loser,” you teased, grinning at your eggs as you mindlessly stabbed at them. “Maybe we should have a rematch, then.”

“I was counting on it,” he replied. Your eyes lifted to meet his, both of you swallowing thickly at the tension that seemed to keep building with every passing second. “You should eat.”

“You should kiss me,” some out of character being possessing you replied, shocking not only him, but yourself as well. “I’m sorry. That was…god, that was way too forward. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted, reaching his hand over to lower yours as it shielded your eyes in embarrassment. “Believe me. But I like you, or, could like you…a lot, I think…if we did this the right way, I mean. But kissing you now—“ He shook his head. “S’not the right way.”

“I know,” you exhaled and lifted your fork to your mouth, swallowing down a bite of food that you could hardly get down with all the butterflies swarming in your stomach.

It only took Frankie about half an hour on his quad to find your campsite based on your half-assed description, your arms hugging him closely as you sat behind him.

When you arrived, your eyes widened at the sight of the once clean grounds now littered with trash, the boys, their tents, and the truck you all came in long gone. All that remained was their garbage and your duffel bag, a note sticking out of it.

“Well,” he sighed as he parked the quad and turned it off. “They are indeed douchebags.”

“What the fuck?” you whispered, staring at the note. You turned to Frankie and shook your head, a tear falling down your cheek as you started to read the note out loud.

Since you want to be dramatic and run off all night, I’m gonna give you all the space you could ever want. I’m so done with your shit. Consider this me breaking up with you.

“Fuck,” Frankie shook his head and through your tear-blurred vision you could see his jaw clenched. Frankie climbed off the ATV and walked up to you, reaching for your hand as it crumbled the note up. “This guy is a fucking dick—beyond a fucking dick, he’s…they don’t make filthy enough curse words to describe how shitty he is. You deserve so much better than that.”

“How do you know that?” you sighed, pulling away from him to pick your bag up off the ground. Frankie quickly took it from you and walked it back to the ATV, tying it onto the back.

“I guess I don’t,” Frankie finally answered your question as he returned with a trash bag. “But, judging by how kind and friendly you’ve been so far…I’d say that alone makes you at the very least better than him.”

You huffed a weak laugh and smiled at the sight of his dress shirt stretching over his back as he bent down to clean the campsite. Feeling guilty for your ex-boyfriend’s sins, you rushed to help, practically stealing the bag from Frankie’s hands.

“Thank you, Frankie.” You gave him a sincere, heartfelt smile. “I’m really sorry you got dragged into all my bullshit—“

He cut you off with a shake of his head and a reassuring smile.

“Don’t apologize,” he ordered before checking his watch. “My shift’s over in an hour or so. Do you live in town? I can drive you home, if you want?”

“I do, and that would…that would be really nice.”

You attempted to keep your tears at bay as he started the quad up and turned back around. Here was this stranger, treating you better than your boyfriend of five years ever had, and he’d only known you for one fucking night.

Back at the cabin, Frankie left you with the WiFi password while he tended to his end-of-shift duties, knowing that your phone had no service and that you should probably update your loved ones on your whereabouts considering you technically went missing last night.

You called your best friend first, giving them the rundown on not only what happened between you and your now ex-boyfriend, but also the building tension between you and your knight in shining khaki, Frankie. After some much needed words of comfort and reassurance that you deserve someone better than your shitty ex, you said goodbye and hung up.

Next up was your ex. You’d planned on telling him off, on calling him out on all the shit you’d been putting up with since the beginning of your relationship, but you never got the chance. The fucker sent you straight to voicemail.

By the time Frankie arrived, you already cried out all the tears you felt your relationship deserved, which wasn’t much.

“Everything okay?” he asked, walking over to join you on the sofa.

“Yeah,” you gave him a soft smile. “Or at least it will be.”

“Breakups are hard,” he empathized, reaching a hand over to rest on your knee. You stared down at the contact with a smirk before looking back to his eyes, finding him deep in study as he watched you. “This might…might not be the right time, but…and it doesn’t have to be anything romantic, but…are you doing anything tonight? Maybe we could go out for a drink or go see a movie or…anything, really. I could be a friend.”

“I’d like you to be more than a friend, Frankie.”

“So would I…eventually,” he added with a smile. “But for now, I don’t want you rushing into anything with me. It’s…it’s easy to confuse distraction for acceptance. Believe me, I made a lot of mistakes after my divorce. And…I really don’t want to be a mistake or a distraction to you. So, for now…friends?”

You twisted your mouth as you smiled, looking down at his hand on your knee and resting yours on top of it.

“Friends.”

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