stranded

Stranded (Part 1)

where Y/N is sorry and Harry is angry.

Harry turned around as soon as he heard the bathroom door open. He could feel his eyes widening at the sight of you. With your blue floor length dress and hair up in a loose bun, you looked unquestionably breathtaking. You were heading for the celebration dinner of Harry’s movie, but Harry felt like he would be nothing there compared to the goddess standing in front of him. He couldn’t help it, he walked towards you with long strides, smashing his lips with yours and whispering,

“Baby, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

Your cheeks glowed with color as heat rushed up your neck. You smiled in gratitude before remarking,

“I think I should be the one saying that.”

Harry jokingly flipped his hair before replying,

“Yeah, I know, I’m very pretty.”

You two let out a laugh before your lips collided once more.

“How ‘bout we ditch the dinner an’ put on some of our own entertainment t’night?” he smirked, proud of his word play.

“Wish we could darling, but everyone’s gonna be there for you, yeah? Can’t leave them hanging.” You replied.

He hummed in response, well aware that he couldn’t ditch the party being thrown for him. You two headed out for the car parked outside. Your hands were tightly intertwined with Harry’s, and the two of you couldn’t have been more content at the moment.

Once you arrived at the destined place, the screams of the crowd and paparazzi increased in volume. The two of you were scurried out of the car by Harry’s event organizer. Harry wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you headed towards the fancy restaurant.

Strutting towards the door, you two looked, and felt, like the ideal couple. However, your little bubble of happiness was soon burst apart as Harry started getting questioned by an interviewer. He seemed nice, and the pair of you didn’t mind.

Yet, soon the questions started getting directed towards you as well. Caught up in the blissful heaven of the situation, you barely noticed as you accidentally spilled out information about Harry working on his solo album.

Harry had previously decided to keep his solo music career a secret for the time being. Lots of conspiracies came along with the rumors, none of which Harry wanted to face. He had instructed you not to inform anyone about it either, and he knew that he could definitely trust you. You had gone to extremes to keep it a secret, there had been several times when it was so close to being revealed but you did one thing or other to safeguard your beloved boyfriend’s clandestine.

But this once, caught up in the happiness of the situation, and the feeling of being in Harry’s arms, you hadn’t even noticed the words tumbling out of your mouth. As soon as the words escaped you, the two of you immediately halted to a stop. Harry’s arm tightened around your waist warningly, to the point where it almost hurt. The interviewer was as shocked as could be, and continued on trying to dig out more details from either of you.

You tried to make it better, you really did, but the damage had been done.

Harry hurriedly excused you two from the press and continued walking towards the main hall. You knew he was mad, the tense way his shoulders were situated, was an obvious sign of that.

Once reality settled in, you felt like you could cry. You had revealed his secret, broken his trust. He had confided in you and trusted you to not tell a soul about something that he didn’t yet want to share.

However, before you could let out a word, Harry was whisked away by his manager, and you had been left alone to fend for yourself. Usually, Harry would be the one to hold your hand tightly and pull you along with him, but you knew that after this, the last thing he wanted was to be anywhere near you.

You were soon given company by Gigi, Eleanor and Cheryl. All of the boys were there to support Harry, and you felt horrible that you had messed up the night for him. You felt your heart ache when you saw that Harry had opted to take the seat farthest away from you at the dinner table. The night passed on with you barely touching your food and trying your best to be as social as you could in the given circumstances.

Harry was nowhere to be seen, probably he had gone somewhere with his friends, and Eleanor and Cheryl had went off to mingle with their own boyfriends, while Gigi had stayed with you. She claimed that she wanted your advice on some show that she was preparing for, but you knew that she felt bad for you. She knew what had happened, and didn’t want for you to be alone.

While you were grateful for the company that she provided, you hadn’t failed to notice Harry’s absence throughout the night. You knew that he was upset with you, but you didn’t think that he would actually ignore you the whole night through. As it was nearing midnight and Gigi was going on about her upcoming Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, a text message from Harry interrupted the both of you. Hope sprang through you as you looked down at your phone, but it was quick to die down as soon as you read the cold words that had been sent to you.

“We’re leaving.”

As you looked up, you saw Harry’s manager waving to you to come to the front door. You informed Gigi, who stood up with you.

“We’ll be leaving soon too. Just need to say goodbye to some people before we’re on our way.”

“Okay, thank you so much for today. I’ll see you soon.”

“Anytime, babe. I’m sure Harry will cool off soon. Just give him some time and space, yeah? Call me if you need anything.” She said, rubbing your arm comfortingly.

“Yeah, thank you, Gigi. I love you.”

The both of you hugged goodbye before you hurried off to where Harry’s manager was standing. She informed you that Harry was already in the car. Your heart sank a little, realizing that he was still mad. You hadn’t expected him to just forget about the whole thing, but you were hoping that his mood would be uplifted after spending some time with his friends.

Nonetheless, you knew that you had made a mistake and that you would have to pay the consequences now.

As you walked outside, you noticed the drizzle going on. It wasn’t much, but the dark clouds in the night sky made it obvious that it wasn’t long before it would start raining heavily. You opened the car door, and skid into the passenger seat. Harry already had the car started, and before you had time to buckle up your seat belt, he scurried off without a word. The tires of the car produced a sharp screech due to the force of the sudden turn.

You didn’t say anything, only adjusting yourself in your seat.

Harry continued driving towards the house that the both of you shared. But you couldn’t help but notice the death grip he had on the steering wheel. After a while, the awkward tension became too much and you felt like you were going to choke. You decided to face the consequences of your mistake as soon as possible, since procrastinating was clearly going to get you nowhere.

“Harry, I really am sorry about what happened-” You started, before he cut you off.

“Don’t Y/N, just don’t.”

He sounded so angry, unlike you had ever heard before. You had heard from a lot of people that Harry was the worst when angry. Though you had yet to encounter a seriously mad Harry, since he always made sure to control his temper around you.

It had started to rain harder outside, with heavy raindrops falling down on the wind screen. His knuckles had begun to turn whiter due to his extremely tight grip on the steering wheel. His face was set in a mad frown that was deadly to even look at.

“Harry, I promise that this wasn’t my intension. I was only answering their question and it just slipped out. I’m really sorry.”

“Sorry won’t cut it. I trusted you with my secret and you totally ruined it. I’m never telling you anything again. Now shut your mouth before I decide to kick you out of the car right now.”

This was so unlike him, the Harry that you knew would never, ever speak to you like how he just did.

Harry was known to be one of the most respectful people out there, and he had proved himself to you as a gentleman several times. Always treating you with intense care, feeding you chocolates during your period, opening the doors for you anywhere you went; he did everything to make sure that you were happy with him.

“Harry, please try to under-” Your sentence was left unfinished as the car halted to a stop.

“Get out.” He commanded.

“What?” Your voice was timid, compared to his. You had absolutely no idea about what Harry could do in his rage of anger, and you weren’t sure if you were ready to find out.

“Get out of the fucking car, Y/N. Or so help me I’ll do it myself.”

“Harry, it’s almost midnight and it’s raining so hard outside. Please don’t do this. I said I’m sorry.” You practically begged.

He wasn’t having any of it, though. In the blink of an eye, he unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. He threw open your side of the door and grabbed your wrists. You tried to resist his grip, and he almost threw you to the ground. Your ankle twisted due to the heels you were wearing, and a painful yelp came out of your mouth. You were lying there in pain, with a ruined dress, spoiled make-up and sore wrists.

You tried to refrain him one last time.

“Harry, please stop.”

He shrugged off your hold on his wrist and went over to the driver’s side. He proceeded to sit in and drive away, leaving you a crying and broken mess in the middle of the road with darkness surrounding you and rain water pouring down on you heavily.

To some outsider, it may have looked like a scene freshly out of some movie. To you though, it was like your world had been torn apart. Yes, you had made a mistake, a horrible one at that. Harry had trusted you with one of his most sacred secrets and as his significant other, it was your duty to protect it at all costs. However, you had gotten caught up in the blissful moment and gone ahead and done the exact opposite.

In spite of that, you didn’t think that you deserved to be thrown out so harshly; in the middle of the night with strangers lurking around and rain falling hard on you.

Yes, you had broken his trust and knew that it wasn’t going to be easy to gain it back, but he had done the exact same thing, maybe worse. Your boyfriend, the very guy who was supposed to keep you safe and protect you from all the harm in the world, was himself the guy who had thrown you out in the streets, with absolutely no concern of what could happen to you.

And as you sat broken in the right middle of the street, with black tears staining your face and wet hair matted to your forehead, dress ripped and ankle twisted, you couldn’t help but wonder if things would ever be alright between you two again.

STRANDED (PART 2)

Part 1

Because I didn’t want @wonderwall1923 to die

—————————————————————————————————-

“The thought of not having you was already becoming a nightmare.”

As Harry drove home, he was extremely mad. The reasonable part of him was now long gone. He hadn’t once stopped to think about his actions. There was a little part of him that warned him that he had been too harsh with you. But as said, logic was no longer something that he was aware of. He had had some drinks throughout the night. Not too many to make him unable to walk or drive, but just enough to make his mind a little tipsy; enough to block out any reasonable thought lingering at the back of his head. He drove home at a great speed, trying not to let his mind wander back to the crying girl he had left behind.

It wasn’t until he got home and begun to take off his coat, and his fingers softly grasped the soft velvet box in his pocket, that he was actually able to comprehend the situation at hand. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go like. The two of you were to have a fun night in which later on he would get down on one knee and ask you to marry him.

As he stared at the ring in front of him, the very ring that his sister had helped him choose, he couldn’t stop his mind from going back to the scenes that had just taken place. His eyes watered as his brain tried to register what had happened.

You had accidentally spilled out his secret to the press.

And although yes, he was upset and this ruined some of the plans he had for the launching of his solo career, this was exactly what it had been; an accident.

The way he had treated you was in no way how he had been taught to. His mind flashed with pictures of him yelling at you and you visibly flinching away. How he had grabbed you so roughly and thrown you out of the car.

He looked out of the window, lightening flashed in the night sky and heavy raindrops loudly hit the shut windows of the house. His eyes shut tightly as the whole situation became clearer. As the guilt began to settle in, he started to panic.

You were alone out there, in the pouring rain at midnight, and he was the one to be blamed for that.

Harry had always praised himself on being a gentle man. The credit went to his mother, and he was proud of himself for being able to stay grounded despite the fame that surrounded him. As far as dating was concerned, he had been taught to always treat a woman with love and respect. It was a no-brainer that Harry was known for being respectful and kind.

However, as the situation became more and more pronounced, he felt his heart sinking lower in his chest. You weren’t just any girl, you were his girlfriend; his better half. The woman that he loved with every piece of him, the woman whom he wanted to marry and have a family with.

He felt his own heart break at the realization of what he had just done.

Just then, his phone began to ring. For a second, he thought you were the one calling him, before he realized that your phone was still in the car, something you hadn’t been able to pick up before he kicked you out of the car.

Once again, his heart ached at the memory.

He looked down at the phone to see his sister’s name popping up on the screen. He accepted the call before lifting the phone up to his ear.

“Did she say yes?!” His sister’s excited voice came out of the speaker.

And for the hundredth time that night, Harry felt his heart breaking all over again.

“Gemma, I fucked up. I fucked up bad.”

You had managed to begin walking. However, with the pace you had, you were sure that a tortoise could overtake you. In your defense though, that was the fastest you could walk with an aching ankle and the heavy rain resisting your footsteps. You didn’t exactly have a particular destination as to where you were going, but you kept on walking anyway.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t scared. The roads seemed to look sketchier, darkness was everywhere, and you could barely see anything. Occasionally, someone would pass by you and you would hold your breath, scared out of your mind. It wasn’t until they would safely pass by that you would calm down again.

As wrong as it was, the only thing keeping you sane right then were Harry’s words that he had sweetly whispered to you a few months ago when you were being taken for knee surgery.

“Be a lion, baby. Can you do that for me? Be my little lioness and hold on for me?”

You wanted to scream. You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. But you had done him wrong, and he had done you wrong too.

You tried to maintain a strong exterior, repeating Harry’s words like a mantra in your mind over and over again.

At last, you reached a small park. The rain had slowed down much now, and you were able to find shelter underneath the metal tin sheet inside the park.

You sat there, with your arms tightly wrapped around yourself, trying to keep warm. You had run out of tears by now, and you had no idea what you were going to do next.

What did this mean for you and Harry?

Was he worried?

Was he trying to look for you?

You prayed that he was safe. For a second, you felt like laughing at your thoughts.

Here you were, drenched and sitting in a park with nowhere to go, and it was all his doing, and still you were worried for him.

It was dangerous, yes, but the day’s tiredness and the night’s events were taking a toll on you, and soon enough you found it impossible to keep your eyes open any longer.

After driving around for more than an hour, the park was Harry’s last hope. He entered the park, hoping with everything in him that he would be able to find you. He looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. He was close to ripping out his own hair out of frustration, when he saw a silhouette.

The person was lying on a bench, tightly hugging them self. He went nearer, and a gasp escaped him as he realized that it was you.

His very own girlfriend whom he had abandoned in the middle of nowhere.

As he took in your condition, he had never hated himself more.

Your arms were tightly wrapped around your own body, desperately trying to stay warm. Your clothes were drenched, and your feet seemed to be in a very compromising position.

He wanted to punch himself continuously until he could feel the same pain that you were feeling. His heart twisted in his chest, and he was almost sure that he was crying. He leaned down on his knees in front of you. Brushing back a loose strand from your face, he contemplated on what to do.

He could sit there with you for the rest of the night, and when you would wake up, he could talk to you.

Or he could carry you to his car and take you home right then.

However, given what had happened, he wasn’t sure if you would appreciate that. But as he looked at the dark sky above and the eerie silence surrounding the both of you, he knew that staying there wasn’t safe.

He had no choice, so he decided to wake you up. Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward, whispering your name softly. He had no idea how you would react. Either you would be extremely mad at him, or you would be terribly, terribly, upset. He didn’t know which one he preferred, but one thing he was sure of was that he couldn’t lose you.

Not now, not ever.

The both of you had made mistakes, his being the biggest, but he hoped that you two could get past this and continue to be together. Even if you stayed with him, he knew that it would take time for things to go back to normal.

He was willing to wait though, he was willing to do close to anything to stay with you.

He softly said your name once again, gently rubbing your arm.  He didn’t want to startle you, given the situation at hand.

As your eyes gently opened, you found yourself staring back at your favorite pair of emerald green eyes.

For a minute, you hoped that it had all been a dream. That you could just snuggle in your boyfriend’s arms and everything could be alright again. However, that wasn’t the case, and you knew that you had to be mature and face your problems confidently. You sat up on the bench while rubbing your eyes to chase away the tiredness enveloping you from the day. A silent yawn escaped you as you looked at Harry kneeling in front of the bench you were sitting on.

“Wha’ are you doing here?” You mumbled sleepily, still not fully awake.

“W- Was looking around for you, love. Goin’ crazy trying to find you.” He replied, stumbling upon his own words.

You looked around, before settling your gaze on him and frowning.

“Started caring too soon, don’t you think?”

You could practically see his face fall, head bowing down in defeat.

You felt bad for a second, before strictly reminding yourself that he was the one to be blamed for what you had been through in the last hour. After a couple of moments of subtle silence, his gaze lifted to meet yours.

“I’m sorry, pet. I really am. Went mad for a couple of minutes. Didn’t realize what I was doing. I had a couple of drinks during the night, as well. Know that’s no excuse though, I know that.”

His words were delivered in a pleading cry, full of remorse. You knew he was apologetic, but what had happened wasn’t something that could be fixed by a simple apology.

All the same, you knew that being mad at Harry wasn’t the solution. You had messed up too, and it was only fair that you gave each other a chance to work it out and explain yourselves.

With that thought, you slowly nodded, before getting up from the bench you were sitting on.

Harry immediately went into panic mode, unaware of what your next move would be. He slowly rose from his previous kneeling positon, ready to stop you from leaving him.

However, you stopped him before he could say anything.

“I’m sorry I divulged details about your solo career, but I didn’t mean to do that. I would never hurt you on purpose, you know that. Or at least, I thought you knew that.” You said, in a low voice.

Harry felt the pain in your voice piercing through his heart, tearing it up in half. He didn’t know if he was supposed to talk or not, and the last thing he needed was to dig his hole even deeper. So he stayed silent, letting you continue before explaining things from his perspective.

“I didn’t see you throughout the dinner. I had a whole speech prepared about how proud I was of your acting career. However, I knew that you wouldn’t appreciate it at a time like this. So I decided to save it for later. When I went into the car though, I could feel that your fury hadn’t dissipated. I didn’t know what to say to make it better. Maybe there was nothing that I could have really said at that moment that would make it better. And then when you burst out like that, I was lost. That wasn’t something that I expected from you.”

Harry had to bite his lip to keep from speaking up, his eyes watering at the pain of the situation.

“But I know it was a mistake. A misapprehension, if you will. A misstep caused by your hotheadedness. I can understand that, I suppose. Doesn’t make it hurt any less though. You promised to protect me, to be with me every step of the way. To be my patronage. It bewildered me as to how you could just simply leave me there and drive away. I was scared, so scared. It made me question if you even cared, if you were ready to leave me because I accidentally spoke about the fact that you were working on your solo album. I didn’t know what to think, Harry, and I still don’t. ”

You were standing a few steps away from him, but Harry felt like the distance between the two of you was larger than the sea. He wanted nothing more than to pull you up tight against his chest and kiss you until you understood that his career meant nothing to him if you weren’t there with him.

Although he knew that it was his turn to speak, he couldn’t do it while being so far away from you.

He took a few steps towards you, his arms going to wrap around your waist until your back was flushed against his chest, holding you to him tightly.

You let him do it, placing your hands on his and giving them a tight squeeze.

“I know you would never do that to me intentionally, my love. Of course I know that. I don’t know why I became so mad, but I’m sorry. For everything that happened tonight. I should have stayed with you during dinner, should have gone with you to the car. And most of all, I shouldn’t have burst out on you like that. That was very out of line of me, and I still can’t believe that I actually did that. When I couldn’t find you, for a second I didn’t mind you leaving me, just wanted you to be safe. But the thought of not having you was already becoming a nightmare. You know I’m not usually so easily inflamed. I’m quite good at controlling my temper most of the time. You know that, pet. I’m sorry that you had to go through that. I’m really sorry. But Y/N, if you give me a chance, I promise you I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I vow to never repeat that mistake again. You’re important to me. I’ve never loved a woman before as much as I love you, apart from my Mum and Gem, of course. Would pick you over my career any given day, you’re my motivation in the hard times. Couldn’t be here without you, love.”

Suddenly, you shrugged off his hands from your waist, and his heart shuddered in fear that you hadn’t accepted his apology. However, he was once again left in awe of your unpredictable personality when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

You both knew that this didn’t suddenly make everything right. It would take some time for things to completely go back to normal.

And Harry knew that the ring in his pocket would have to wait a couple more days.

But the two of you also knew that you’d make it. It would take some time and patience, but together you were sure that you could survive through this, and whatever more life had to throw your way.

LARGEST BALEEN WHALE MASS STRANDING IN SOUTHERN CHILE RELATED TO TOXIC ALGAL BLOOM

In March 2015, by far the largest reported mass mortality of baleen whales took place in a gulf in Southern Chile. At that moment, researchers discovered 367 dead whales, from the sector of Gulf of Penas and Puerto Natales, in Magallanes region.  

In May the scientific journal PeerJ published the final study on the mass stranding event, most of them sei whale (Balaenoptera boreal), whale species which is endangered. According to the research, led by Vreni Häussermann, the event was related to the proliferation of toxic algae during the El Niño phenomenon.

While large mass mortality events are well known for toothed whales, they have been rare in baleen whales due to their less gregarious behavior. Although in most cases the cause of mortality has not been conclusively identified, some baleen whale mortality events have been linked to bio-oceanographic conditions 

According to the study if the frequency and magnitude of mass mortality events increase due to climate change this would have a significant impact on the local population and threaten the recovery of this endangered species, which in the Southern Hemisphere was reduced by whaling from about 100,000 to 24,000 individuals by 1980.

  • Photo: SERNAPESCA
  • Reference:  Häussermann et al. 2017. Largest baleen whale mass mortality during strong El Niño event is likely related to harmful toxic algal bloom. PeerJ
Stranded (Barry Allen x Reader) Part One

Pairing: Fred+George Weasley x Reader (platonic) // Barry Allen x Reader

Word Count: 943

Summary: Reader is best friends with Fred and George Weasley and has been for as long as they can remember. They were just going about their normal day at work when something rather peculiar occurred after a certain team Flash member decided to experiment with his powers. (I suck at summaries k sorry.)

A/N: So I’ve finally gotten around to starting this reader insert series, if you couldn’t tell it’s going to be a Harry PotterxFlash crossover because they were the highest chosen fandoms on my survey. I know it’s quite short, but this is more so just to set up the story if you get me.I really hope you enjoy this series and if you would like to be tagged in updates just drop me a message x 

Warnings: None as far as I am aware of


A soft smile spread across your lips as you made your way down Diagon Alley, possibly one of your favourite places on Earth, on your way down to work as you did every morning, greeting all the other shopkeepers who were setting up as you passed.
“Good Morning Sunshines!” You called out cheerfully as you entered the wonderfully magical ‘Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes’ store to greet your two best friends and business partners. Fred and George had hired you to deal with the part of the business that required high intellect so they could get on with the fun parts. Honestly, you still loved your job either way, even if you did end up as a test subject every so often. 
“(Y/N)! Just who we wanted to see.” Fred and George beamed, speaking in sync as they often did. 
“Let me guess, you’ve got a new product and you want me to test it for you?” You sighed with a clear blunt tone in your voice. 
“You know us too well.” Fred chuckled as George produced a deep green, glittering box from behind his back. He pulled out a small, black gobstopper looking object, holding it out to you with a proud grin on his face. 
“What in Merlin’s name is that?” You questioned with a raised brow. “This our dear (Y/N) is the inter-dimensional gobstopper.”
“The interwhonow?” Of all the things they had ever made, this had to be one of the strangest. 
“The inter-dimensional gobstopper. Basically, you eat it and wherever you imagine is created around you. You don’t actually travel anywhere, it’s like a lucid dream state.”
Well, what could possibly wrong? You shrugged in response, taking the strange sweet from his hand and placing it right into your mouth. You expected something to start fizzing or at least for it to do something, but no, it reacted just like a normal gobstopper. A small sigh escaped your lips, as terrifying as the concept was, you were quite disappointed with the result.
“Well, back to the drawing board boys.“ 
Spitting out the gobstopper into the nearest bin, not wanting to accidentally experience any strange side effects of consuming the whole thing, you continued on as you normally would. Your beaten combat boots dragged across the floor as you made your way through the store that was already full of life. For as long as you could remember, there had never been a dull day in the store, it practically radiated joy and you absolutely loved seeing how happy it made everyone that stepped foot inside. You could remember the opening day pretty clearly, your best friends had been absolute messes all morning, you having to take on the roll of Molly to make sure they were prepared. The store created so much happiness after the disaster the Death Eaters created of Diagon Alley. Every year, Fred and George would make a huge surprise for you when you arrived at work, they would always deck the store out head to toe for Christmas just to see the bright smile on your face. Honestly, as much trouble as they always got you in at school & by using you as their guinea pig, Fred and George had always been the lights of your life.

It hadn’t taken long for the store to fill up with excitable witches and wizards and some rather concerned looking parents. With a welcoming smile on your face, you began to greet customers as they entered through the door, assisting some of the smaller children in reaching the things on the higher shelves when needed. 
"Hey (Y/N) can you grab some more Skiving Snackboxes from the stock room please? We’re running low.” You heard one of the twins call out to you.
“Sure thing!" 
The stock room was your least favourite part of the store, it seemed to have an eerie chill to it. Nevertheless, you snuck your way through the crowd to slip into the room marked ‘Staff Only’. A small shiver made its way down your spine as you made your way further into the dimly lit room. You wanted nothing more than to just grab the boxes and go, but a loud crash completely stopped you in your tracks. Instantly placing the snackboxes down, gripping your want tightly, your blood running cold, you tip toed your way to the source of the noise.
"Hello?” You called out, instantly mentally scalding yourself for doing something like that as if (if there was an intruder) the person would just call back to you.
When you turned the corner, you were not met with what you expected. The loud crash was most certainly not a group of mischievous children, but a huge blue portal looking thing. You knew you should have just ran to get Fred and George, but something was calling you towards the glowing blue matter. Your feet inched closer and closer, the hand containing your wand slowly dropping down to your side as if you had become entranced by this strange matter. Before you could even process what was happening, you felt a strong tug on your body, sucking you right into whatever the hell was in front of you. A small yelp escaped your lips as you were dragged inside, quickly falling unconscious.

Your body landed with a heavy thud against the hard, stone floor, still not waking you from your unconscious state. As your body hit the floor, a rather high pitched screech echoed off of the metal walls of the labratory, leaving the man stood over you in a state of complete shock.
“Uh Barry…We got a problem in here." 

3

UPDATE!!!

Today has been pretty good, skated to the bank to get something’s straightened out. But as you all know our van broke down. We got what’s wrong pretty figured out and the price tag is $723 usd plus tax. We currently have about $730 usd in current funds. So we can get the car fixed, but it’s gonna take all that we have.

This van is our home and we really need it to be running so we can go apply for jobs and warm the car up when it’s too cold to handle. So far we haven’t been able to find work even in a large city, but we don’t plan on giving up yet! We again just need some help.

We currently have a $680 usd need. This goes to necessitate things such as gas, food, renewing Gwens drivers license and Kimmy and Gwen’s badges so they can find work, and to pay for my postponed doctors appointment.

Our PayPal is littletransgirl18@gmail.com. Anything helps honestly! Even spare change helps!! I’m so sorry! I guess when it rains it pours! Thank you all so much we are doing our best to stay positive. With out you all, we wouldn’t have any hope. Thank you so much from our family to yours!

Imagine you ask Loki to go on a road trip. He is reluctant and only agrees after Thor mentions going instead because he does not want you getting any closer to Thor (you two are besties). Cause he doesn’t know how to, you are the sole driver whilst he controls the music, snacks, navigation (pretty much everything else). During the trip, he causes many issues and annoyances (getting your least favourite chips, missing turnoffs, only playing classical music etc) At some point during the road trip, he causes a flat tyre, leaving you stranded and having to camp overnight in one tent. Being a bit pissed off, you leave him to set the tent whilst you get firewood. he realises you have been away for a while and goes to find you and sees you crying. He explains that he did everything to make things more interesting. He comforts you thereafter and eventually, he begins to want to do so more often.

Deserted Island

“hello, i was wondering if i could request a really cool imagine where y/n and c/n are stranded on an island together and stuff lol thought that would be a fun thing to imagine!! love your blog ❤”

I HAD to do this one next; I LOVE this plot because you can start with two complete strangers and literally force them to become super close and dependent on each other. So yeah, that’s what I did - hope you enjoy!

P.S. I gave (c/n) a bit of tragic backstory in this one so just humor me a lil

Word count: 8.6k


The sun glares at you and you shield your eyes with your hands, scrunching up your face. You walk slowly down the wooden docks lined with boats of various sizes, searching for one in particular. At last you spot a tiny motorboat with Mary scrawled across it in sky-blue paint. You hurry towards it. A very tan boy about your age is sprawled on his back on the bow of the boat, shades covering his eyes. You can’t tell if he’s asleep, so you clear your throat.

When there’s no response, you frown and lean forward awkwardly, rapping your knuckles on the side of the boat. “Excuse me…uh…hello?”

The boy stirs, lifting his head an inch or so. You give a half smile and wave. “Yes. Hello. Are you the man I spoke with on the phone?”

The boy lays his head back down, crossing his arms. “That was probably my dad.”

“Oh.” You stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do. “Um, where is he?”

“Out.”

You wait for more. Apparently, he doesn’t have anything else to say. You furrow your eyebrows, getting more confused by the second. “Out where? When will he be back?”

The boy lifts his head up again, clearly growing annoyed at your persistent interruptions. “Not till tonight.”

“That’s not possible.” You frown. “He was supposed to give me a ride today, at noon. It’s noon. We arranged all this over the phone.” You hear your voice becoming more high-pitched and hysterical, and curse silently for choosing this clearly unreliable boat service. It was the cheapest option at such short notice.

The boy sits up and raises his sunglasses to squint at you, and you’re momentarily caught off guard by how beautiful his eyes are. You could tell he was attractive even with the shades on, but now that you can see his whole face it’s clear this boy could model for Abercrombie. Maybe he does.

At last he lowers the sunglasses over his eyes again, as though he’s gathered all the information he needs. He nods slightly to himself. “All right. I’ll take you.”

“You will?” You feel slightly uneasy at trusting your travel to this kid, as opposed to his presumably more experienced father. But on the other hand, you can hardly complain - even if he gets you both killed, at least you’ll have eye candy while you’re dying. You grin at him. “Thanks so much.”

With a heavy sigh, the boy slides off the bow to a standing position, where you’re able to really appreciate his height. Unfortunately, he is wearing a t-shirt, but you still have a great view of his flawless arms. Tan, toned legs stretch out under his swim trunks. He must spend a lot of time out in the sun. “Do you do this a lot?” you ask conversationally, trying to be friendly but also trying to find out just how much experience he actually has.

The boy just shrugs. Not one for small talk, huh. Well, let’s just try to get his name, and then you can leave him alone. “I’m (y/n) by the way. You?”

“(C/n).” He sits down in the driver’s seat and asks, “Where to?”

You rummage through your small bag and pull out a piece of paper with an address on it, or coordinates, or whatever they use for directions on the ocean. You don’t really know what any of it means. In any case, the name of the island where you’re meeting your friends is written in big letters, so hopefully he’ll know where that is. You hand it to him, and he glances at it for a second before nodding and starting up the engine. You give a small sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll arrive in time for a fun day with your friends after all.

The small boat starts moving with a jolt, and you stumble, grabbing the edge of the boat to steady yourself. You look around for a place to sit. There’s a small bench lining the sides, so you try to make yourself comfortable there. After a few minutes of silence, you lean forward and ask, shouting to make yourself heard, “How long until we get there?”

“A couple of hours. It’s pretty much in the middle of nowhere.”

You sigh and slump back down in your seat. If only you were rich and had a private jet to take you everywhere. You really hope this “adventurous outing” with the girls will be worth it. To pass the time, you pull out your sunscreen and start applying it, stripping down to your bikini to make sure you get every inch of skin.

After a little while, your driver turns his head, maybe to check that you didn’t fall overboard, considering you’ve been completely silent. He does a double take, probably surprised to see you with half the clothes you previously had on. You hide a smirk and continue applying sunscreen all over, determined not to get an ugly burn like you always do.

As time drags on, the monotonous but strangely relaxing roar of the boat in your ears and the sun beating down on your face, you feel a drowsiness weighing you down. You stretch out on the bench and put on shades, slinging an arm over your face to hide it from the sun. In no time you’re lulled to sleep, the comfortable smell of salt carrying over into your dreams, in which you befriend a pleasant sea turtle and swim with chattering seals, leaving all of your worries at the shore.

“(Y/n).” A voice shakes you out of your dreams, low but with urgent undertones. Someone is shaking your arm. “(Y/n), wake up.”

You lift your sunglasses and blink furiously in the sudden brightness. “Wha-” You see (c/n)’s face hovering over yours. The roar of the engine is absent and the boat seems to have stopped moving. “Are we here?” You look around. All you can see is blue water. No island in sight.

“No.” (C/n) looks unsettled, and immediately you begin to feel nervous. “We ran out of gas.”

You blink slowly, trying to process this information with grogginess still clouding your thoughts. “Oh. Um…is there, like…extra? Spare jugs, or whatever?”

His answering expression increases your worry exponentially. He sighs. “No. I’ve looked everywhere. I wouldn’t have gotten you involved if I hadn’t tried everything already.”

You sit up quickly. “What? You mean we’re actually stuck?” You look around again, this time with mounting panic. The sight of surrounding blue brings you anything but calm. “Can’t you call someone to pick us up?”

“Call?” He laughs without humor. “We’re in the middle of the ocean, there’s no cell service here.”

“Well…isn’t there a GPS, or a map or something? Whatever you were using before…” You trail off, wondering why the hell he’s asking you for advice. As if you know the first thing about how to travel by boat. You’re just making a fool of yourself at this point.

This becomes evident on (c/n)’s face. “Yes. We have maps. But the boat needs to actually work. We have emergency paddles, but that would take hours, days even.”

“Jesus.” You make a face, trying to battle the stress, which is clearly starting to affect (c/n) as well. He’s pacing back and forth in the tiny floor space, running his fingers through his hair over and over. You rack your brains for solutions. “Um…can you, like, hot-wire it? Like a car?”

(C/n) just looks at you, and you wait for a scathing response, but he says nothing. He appears to be thinking. “That could work,” he says at last. “If I hot-wire one of the fuel pumps…” he mumbles to himself, losing you completely. You tune back in when he says, “I watched my dad do it once…how hard could it be?”

You almost laugh at the sheer folly of your situation. You have never hotwired anything, and neither, apparently, has (c/n). This has to be a joke. “There’s seriously no better option?” you ask incredulously. Inwardly, you make a promise never to accept a boat ride from an idiot ever again. That is, if you get out of this alive.

(C/n) doesn’t answer your question, but instead kneels in front of the controls, looking for something in particular. You squat next to him, trying to help but completely clueless. Finally he pulls out a jumble of wires and starts untangling them. Meanwhile, you pinch yourself to make sure you aren’t still dreaming. Shit dream, if it is one.

“Okay, (y/n),” he says, turning to you and looking you directly in the eyes for perhaps the first time. “I need you to turn the key when I tell you to. Can you do that?”

You nod wordlessly. Your fingers, trembling slightly, find the key on the console and grasp it. When (c/n) yells “Go!” you turn the key - in the wrong direction. Quickly you reverse it. You hear a kind of pop. “What was that? Did it work?” you question anxiously.

(C/n) just shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Suddenly his eyes widen. “Oh, shit.” He looks up, panic evident in his face. “Shit.”

“Huh-” Before you can finish expressing your confusion, he shouts, “Jump!”

“Jump where? What?!”

Without further hesitation, (c/n) scoops you up in his arms and throws you overboard, as effortlessly as if you were a baby. Plunging underwater, you quickly resurface, utterly flabbergasted. You open your eyes in time to see (c/n) diving off the boat just as the whole thing implodes in a cloud of smoke and fire.

*small timeskip*

You’re hugging a stray piece of wood to your chest, clutching onto it for dear life as you try to catch your breath. Dimly, you recognize the wood from the bench you were sitting on. You look across the water to where (c/n) is hanging onto a burnt white slab of wood, with the remains of the word Mary written on it in blue. He traces the letters morosely with his finger, a shellshocked glaze in his eyes. Meanwhile, a strange calm has settled over you, as though your life-threatening situation is just a distant movie and you’re simply a spectator.

You look around at what remains of the boat. There goes our GPS, you remark in your head, almost with a sense of amusement. Looking back at (c/n), you conclude that he probably won’t be any help right at this moment. Clearing your throat, you start to yell for help at the top of your lungs.

After a few seconds of this, (c/n) turns his gaze in your direction. “What are you doing?”

“Calling for help, idiot,” you answer. What else would you be doing?

(C/n) lies back in the water. “It’s no use. We’re miles away from civilization. We’re as good as dead.”

You stare incredulously. “So, you’re just gonna give up and accept death?”

(C/n) gives an almost imperceptible shrug in response. Sighing, you turn in a slow circle, trying to see as far as you can. You shield your eyes as you turn towards the sun, squinting through the glare. As you’re about to continue your revolution, wooden plank still held tightly in one arm, you notice something on the horizon. You stare as hard as your eyes will allow, and make out some sort of shape. “(C/n),” you say distractedly. “(C/n), look over there.”

He follows your eyes to the lump on the horizon, and when he sees it, he snaps to attention. Suddenly alert again, he starts paddling towards it, as though he’ll get a better look with a few seconds of swimming. “(C/n),” you call after him, “Wait up!” You start swimming after him, using the bench as a kickboard.

Perhaps an hour or two later - you have absolutely no sense of time - you slump over your piece of wood, exhausted. You and (c/n) have been paddling wordlessly towards that one shining chance of survival, and now, it has grown into what you could conceivably call an island. You can make out a miniature mountain dotted with palm trees. No sign of buildings or any sort of man-made construction, but you’re not close enough to know for sure.

As you gasp for breath, (c/n) turns and paddles back over to you. “Come on,” he says, in a tone almost comparable to that of encouragement. “Not much farther now.” When you only cough in response, he grabs your arm and starts pulling you along with him, kicking his feet to propel himself. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thank God that (c/n) is a good swimmer, or works out a lot, or both. You certainly can’t say the same about yourself.

After another hour or more of this, during which exhaustion pulls you in and out of lucidity, (c/n) shakes you into the waking world again. “(Y/n). Hey. Wake up.”

You bring yourself upright and suddenly feel the ocean floor beneath your feet. Looking up, you’re confronted with the sight of what was once a miniature island, now up close and enormous. The shore is only a hundred feet away. Staring in shock for a minute, you take it all in. The sandy beach, the towering palm trees, the rocky hills in the background. In any other situation, this would be a charming location, a tropical paradise. Nevertheless, at this moment it’s your only chance of survival. You start wading through the water, splashing towards shore, (c/n) close behind you.

After a minute of standing in the soft white sand in silence, you ask the burning question. “Where are we?” you breathe out, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

(C/n) shakes his head slowly, as if in disbelief. “I have no idea. I didn’t know this place existed.”

You glance sideways at him. His t-shirt is soaked and clinging to his skin, perfectly outlining his muscles. You quickly pull your eyes back to the island before you get too caught up in staring at him. But you notice he still has the burnt piece of boat in one hand, letting it trail in the sand.

You walk forward a few steps before collapsing, too tired to stand. You lie on your back in the hot sand, trying to stay warm as the cold water evaporates off your skin, leaving you shivering. (C/n) pulls his wet t-shirt off, obviously cold as well, and despite your current state you can’t help but stare. He mimics you and lies down in the warm sand, breathing heavily. The two of you just lie there, exhausted and shellshocked. On the horizon, the sun is beginning to set, and though you have a perfect view, you are unable to appreciate it. Before the real show has even begun, your eyes are already closed.

Cold water lapping at your feet jolts you awake. You sit up, utterly disoriented. It takes a solid minute of looking around in confusion for everything to come back to you. You groan and let your head fall back down. Apparently this wasn’t just a really vivid nightmare.

The sun is high in the sky, suggesting that you slept in pretty late. At least you got a good night’s sleep. Small comfort in a world like this one, where sleep is the least of your worries. After a few minutes of feeling sorry for yourself, you steel yourself and sit up again. Eventually you make it all the way to a standing position, and congratulate yourself. Positivity and self-encouragement…that’s what your therapist always tells you. You brush the sand off your back, realizing you’re still wearing only a string bikini. It’s a good thing the nights in this region are fairly warm or you could have frozen to death.

A human-shaped indentation in the sand reminds you of your fellow castaway. Scanning your surroundings, you find no sign of (c/n). You call his name a few times, but the only response is the chattering of some unidentifiable bird. At least you’ll have something to eat, if you survive long enough to even attempt hunting.

Well, with no other pressing matters besides your inevitable decomposition on this deserted island in the middle of nowhere, you decide to wander around a little and get the lay of the land, and hopefully find (c/n) along the way.

You pick a direction and start walking. Somehow, in the midst of your fear of being found dead in a hundred years, you’re able to enjoy the myriad of pleasant views this island has to offer. The sun sparkling on the clear blue waters and the white sand beaches make you momentarily forget about your quandary, or at least, put it on the back burner, as they say. You do love palm trees, and this island is full of them. You weave in and out of the line of trees forming the edge of a much thicker forest in the middle of the island. It’s probably not as pleasant in there, and you hope (c/n) hasn’t already gotten lost inside, or possibly mauled by a local bear. Once again, you marvel at your own nonchalance.

After a while of this, you stop to take a break. Exercise was never your thing. It’s as you’re standing there catching your breath that you notice a figure sitting against a palm tree not far away. Surprised but elated at the thought of a fellow human, you run towards the person, shouting and waving your arms. You stop when you get closer and realize it’s (c/n). He watches you, expressionless.

“Oh. It’s just you.” You flop onto the ground near him, disappointment obvious in your expression.

(C/n) snorts. “Hello to you too.”

You give him an exasperated look. “You know what I mean.”

“I’ve been up for hours searching the whole island and shouting. Trust me…we’re alone.” He starts drawing circles in the sand absentmindedly.

“Oh.” You frown. “I didn’t hear any shouting.”

He rolls his eyes. “No one could have heard anything over your snoring. You sure like to sleep.”

You contemplate this, trying to figure out whether to take offense or not. “Well, sue me.” You stand up. “Why don’t we try to find a source of fresh water?”

(C/n) doesn’t look up from his sand drawings. “I’ll pass.”

You squint at him.  “Umm…that’s not really an option,” you start.

“Why not?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re stranded on an island?” You throw your arms out in a gesture of frustration. “We’re gonna have to work together if we want any chance of survival.”

(C/n) stops drawing and looks up at you through slitted eyes. “What makes you think we’re going to survive?”

You take a deep breath, trying to control your exasperation. Patience is a virtue, you remind yourself. Maybe this boy is confused. “There are trees and stuff. There’s probably food. There are animals. If we’re desperate enough we can probably strangle them to death. We’re one, two hours away from civilization, max. It’s not that unlikely that a ship will pass by within a few days. And, I’m sorry, but do you WANT to die?” Your voice rises in pitch with every sentence.

You hoped you could help (c/n) see reason, but instead you seem to have angered him somehow. He opens his mouth and unleashes his own tirade. “There are a thousand different ways we could get killed here. You’re not going to find a magical stream of fresh water and wild animals won’t just waltz into your arms. Only in the movies do people get stranded on a deserted island and actually come out alive. You can do all the animal-strangling and tree-shaking you want. But if you don’t mind, I’d rather enjoy my last days relaxing on the beach than getting attacked by wild rats or wandering around until I pass out.” He leans back against the tree, apparently considering the matter decided.

Unbelievable. You set your jaw and grab his arm. Surprised, (c/n) tries to shove you off but you latch on and pull him off the ground, with some difficulty. “Listen up, buddy. I’m only here in the first place because you fucked up. I’m not going to die here because you were too lazy and selfish and apparently suicidal to help!”

At that, (c/n) stops resisting. His expression changes, and you wonder if that’s shame flitting across his face. At any rate, he seems to give in. “Alright, fine. Just…tell me what to do.”

Satisfied, you let him go. “We have to find some kind of river or something. We can only survive three days without fresh water.”

“Nice fact, teacher. Watch a lot of Bear Grylls?” Shame or no shame, his sarcasm is certainly still intact.

“Nice joke Seinfeld, watch a lot of Comedy Central?” you snap back.

“As if, I have better things to do with my time than loaf around in front of the TV.”

“Like what, loafing around on your boat?”

“At least I have a boat, bet you can’t say the same.”

“Had a boat,” you correct him. He winces, and you instantly feel bad. It’s not like he wasn’t fully aware of the situation already, but it’s true that for a moment it was as if nothing was wrong. “Sorry,” you mumble quickly.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, you start whistling the theme to Gilligan’s Island. It seems fitting, and lightens the mood, in your opinion. (C/n), however, does not seem to agree.

“Stop that,” he grumbles. “You’re pitchy and it’s hurting my ears.”

Hurt, you fix him with a withering stare. “Excuse me, do you plan to tone down your attitude anytime soon?”

“Nope.” (C/n)’s mouth twitches, almost as if he’s smirking, but of course that’s impossible.

You settle back into a comparatively more comfortable silence as you make your way towards the thicket of trees in the center of the island. It looks a little foreboding, but considering your options, you try to see it as more of a fun hiking trip through a tropical forest. In reality, though, who knows what you might run into in there?

As the underbrush gets thicker, you can’t help grimacing at all the leaves and branches scratching your bare legs and torso. If only you decided to keep your clothes on and apply sunscreen later on. You could really use the extra coverage right now.

Maybe (c/n) notices your struggle, because he pushes in front of you and leads the way, whacking branches out of the way with a stick he’s just picked up. You smile a little. Did he just do you a favor? Cold, heartless (c/n) could still be a gentleman deep down inside.

Nothing can be done about your bare feet, however. You may have pretty soft skin, but you suspect (c/n) must be struggling as well with the sharp rocks and protruding roots all over the forest floor. You tread in fear of impaling your foot on a thorn. The two of you walk slowly with your eyes glued to the ground. With your vision busy, you have to rely on your hearing, ears perked to catch the sound of running water, which is seeming more and more like a fantasy as time passes.

Just as you’re about to give up, you hear that blessed sound: the quiet gurgle of water trickling over rocks. You and (c/n) run towards the sound and heave simultaneous sighs of relief as you stumble onto the banks of a tiny river tumbling downhill. “How’s that for a magical stream?” you tease triumphantly.

Rather than responding, (c/n) kneels by the stream, plunges his hands in the water and drinks from his cupped hands, then splashes the water all over his face. You laugh but join him, relishing from the sweet, cold, and probably unsanitary water. Oh well, it’s worth the risk.

You follow the stream back downhill to see where it ends, finding a small pool at the edge of the forest. “This is perfect. We can come here for water.”

“Let’s hope it’s not full of diseases,” (c/n) interjects unhelpfully. You ignore him. “Great. Now we have to build a shelter and figure out how to start a fire before it gets dark again.”

“Easy peasy.” (C/n) cracks perhaps his first smile. Too bad it’s clearly a sarcastic one. However, you’ll ignore that, too.

“That’s the spirit. Positivity is key, or so my therapist always says.” You flash a bright smile. Maybe you can blind him into submission with your bright white teeth.

(C/n) glances at you in vague amusement. “You have a therapist?”

“Yes, I do. I’m not ashamed. It’s healthy to express your feelings once in awhile.” You give him a pointed look. “Or once in a century, for some people.”

“I don’t like talking about my feelings. Why would I want to spill my guts to a stranger?” (C/n) starts walking back out onto the beach, and you follow close behind.

“It doesn’t have to be a stranger. I can be your therapist,” you offer with another cheery smile.

He glances back. “You’re a stranger too.”

“That’s no way to treat the only other human on this island,” you respond lightly, trying to hide how insulted you really are.

(C/n) stops walking and faces you. “So, because we’re trapped here together, we have to become best friends?”

“I…didn’t say that,” you say hesitantly, taken aback by his seriousness.

“Look, when - if - we get rescued, I plan to forget this all happened and go back to living my life. We will not be best friends, got it?”

Suddenly you feel defensive. “Hey, I didn’t ask for this. But now that we’re here, the least we can do is work together to try to stay alive. That may require occasionally interacting, and if that upsets you then toughen up!”

(C/n) snorts and starts walking away. Seething with hurt and resentment, you turn on your heel and storm off in the other direction.

You spend the rest of the afternoon retrieving sticks and logs from the forest, doing your best to build a makeshift shelter. You try to recall everything you know from elementary school Girl Scouts, and random tidbits from the internet. At last, you step back and admire your work. A clumsy but not unfriendly little tent of sticks leans against the widest palm tree you could find. You crawl inside and discover that it’s actually quite roomy. Feeling proud of your handiwork, you grab some extra sticks and sit down with the ambitious new goal of starting a fire before it gets dark.

After what feels like an eternity of rubbing sticks together, feeling ridiculous, and cursing, you throw the sticks away angrily. You’ll obviously have to go without a fire tonight. Maybe tomorrow it’ll suddenly make sense. Right now, as the sky starts to darken, nothing makes sense.

You crawl back under your haphazard assembly of sticks and lie down. Alone and still for the first time in hours, the gnawing hunger that remained dormant for most of the day now eats a hole in your insides. You wonder if it’s possible for your body to consume itself, because that’s what it feels like. The urge to find food, any food, is overwhelming, and yet the sudden feeling of hopelessness is even more so. How could you have acted so positive all day, when in reality you don’t stand a chance? (C/n), that jerk, was right. You’re going to die here, in the middle of nowhere.

You curl up and try to erase all the thoughts in your mind, but you can feel the shock of recent events fading away as the grim reality truly sinks in for the first time. Fear suffocates you, and you find yourself struggling to breathe. A tear escapes your eye and you brush it away. Crying won’t do you any good, that’s for sure. But even so, more tears well up. Your sides shake silently as the depression settles over you like a dark, heavy blanket, eventually dragging you into sleep once more.

(C/n) finds you in the morning. You’re awoken by his shouts, calling your name. They grow closer and closer until you feel his hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. You don’t move, partly because you don’t want to and partly because you can’t. You’re completely depleted of energy, and the only thing you feel now is that gnawing hunger, tearing you apart from the inside.

“(Y/n)?” He shakes you again. “Wake up.” He waits for a response. “(Y/n), please wake up.”

After a moment his hand leaves your shoulder, and you hear the sticks of your shelter clattering together, falling away from you onto the sand. You’re lying in the open, a cool morning breeze caressing your cheeks. (C/n) turns you onto your back and shakes you again. “Come on, (y/n), wake up, please…” You hear the worry in his voice, but can’t seem to make yourself move.

It’s when (c/n) puts a finger on your neck to feel a pulse that something stirs inside you. He thinks you’re dead? Well, that’s just silly. You try to open your mouth, or even your eyes. Now his ear is on your chest, probably listening for a heartbeat. His hair tickles your chin. You manage to open your mouth.

“I’m…not…dead,” you croak out.

(C/n) lifts his head off your chest and you can feel his stare, as well as his relief. “Well, good,” he says. Then, “You did that on purpose.”

You would make a snappy comeback, but that would require too much energy. It’s easier just to lie there. Accept death, as (c/n) kept saying.

“(Y/n), seriously, get up.” (C/n) nudges you. “Hello?” He sounds concerned again. After a moment, he says, “Open your mouth.” You decline to obey.

Another moment passes. “I have food.” At the sound of that magic word, your mouth opens all on its own. Something enters. You recognize the taste of banana, and slowly chew and swallow.

(C/n) lets out a slight chuckle. “Good. Have the rest.” He puts the banana in your hand. At this, you finally open your eyes.

(C/n) is kneeling over you. The first thing you notice is his lack of a shirt. The next thing you notice is the strip of cloth tied around his head. He’s doing that makeshift headband thing from every survival movie, and dammit, he’s pulling it off. You hate to admit it, but he looks sexy. By comparison, you must be a mess. You can feel the layer of grime on your face, except where tears from last night left tracks. You’re still in only your bikini, which is pretty dirty by now, too.

You decide to sit up, with some difficulty, and take another bite of banana. It’s a bit unripe but you’ll take what you can get. “Where did you find this?”

“I can show you later. I’ve been up for a while, and I’ve found a lot of stuff.” (C/n) smiles at you, an unusual and disorienting sight.

You point to his new headpiece. “Is this your shirt?”

“Yeah, I hemmed it a little,” he jokes. “Oh, and I brought the rest for you.” He hands you a lump of cloth. “This should be short enough to fit you now.”

You hold up the shirt. It looks mostly intact, with just a couple inches missing from the bottom. You pull it on over your head, enjoying the feeling of real clothing again. It’s almost like you’re back home, away from this nightmare. A fresh tear wells up, and you take this chance to wipe your face with it, using the edge of (c/n)’s shirt. He watches you, concern etched across his features.

When you’re finished, you sit staring at nothing. (C/n) lets you sit in silence for a minute before speaking in a low voice.

“What happened?”

Your voice comes out a whisper.

“I lost hope.”

For a while neither of you says anything. Then (c/n) says, “I’m sorry.” He gazes apologetically at you. “You were right, we need each other. I don’t know why I acted like I did. I…I don’t like to open up. I don’t want to make myself vulnerable. I can’t be like you. But I promise I’ll be helpful from now on. I’m not going to be negative anymore. I just need you to stay positive, too.” His eyes implore you to respond.

You let the words sink in, still in disbelief that (c/n) could put together so many sentences at once - and that he sounds so sincere. Your sudden moral disintegration must have rattled him. You start getting to your feet, and (c/n) immediately wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you.

“Thanks.” You take a few more bites of the banana and then toss the peel away. (C/n) starts to lead you down the beach. “This way.”

You arrive at a spot on the island where (c/n) obviously tried to set up camp. There is a small shelter of sticks, shaped like a very short, wide box but admittedly sturdier than yours. You notice the piece of wood with Mary still legible on it, resting on the roof. “How do you sleep in this?” you ask, pointing towards the shelter, which is less than two feet tall.

“Simple.” (C/n) slides under the stick roof and lies down with his head sticking out, grinning at you. “It’s quite comfortable. We can share if you want.”

A light blush colors your cheeks. “Um, okay. Thanks.” You look around. More sticks are piled up a few feet away. “Did you get a fire started?”

(C/n) crawls back out of the shelter. “No, I didn’t know how,” he says, looking a bit embarrassed.

“Me neither.”

“That’s okay. We can try again tonight.”

You give him a peculiar look. “What’s with Mr. Positivity all of a sudden?”

He smiles. “One of us has to do it. I’m just subbing in until you’re all better.”

“I’ll be better with more food,” you tell him.

“Right, food!” (C/n) looks excited. “I found so much fruit in the forest. You were right about that too, of course. There are even coconuts. If we can break one open we can store water, and stuff like that.” He holds his hand out to you. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

You take his hand and start walking back into the forest together.

Hours later you emerge from the trees, stuffed with bananas, berries, and even mangoes. You can hardly believe your luck - well, not the luck that got you stranded on an island in the first place, but it could be worse. However, you’ve discovered that coconuts do not taste that great with no sugar.

As you arrive back at your new home, (c/n) announces, “I have to pee.”

“Where are you gonna go?” you ask curiously.

“In the ocean, dummy. Where have you been going?”

“I haven’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t eat for like two days. I’m pretty sure there was nothing to…yeah.”

(C/n) shrugs and goes off, splashing out into the water a few feet. You turn away, smiling slightly. After a few seconds (c/n) calls out, “The water is really nice, you should come in!”

You laugh. “No way, I’m not swimming with your pee.”

“You were fine with all the fish pee, what’s wrong with mine?”

You roll your eyes but start walking out towards the ocean, stepping cautiously into the water at least twenty feet away from (c/n). It is quite warm, and the gentle lapping around your ankles relaxes you. You take another step forward. Looking around for (c/n), you realize you can’t see him in the water anymore.

Before you can turn and check the beach, something crashes into you from behind. You shriek and fall forward into the water, (c/n)’s heavy body pushing you down. Struggling to shove him off, your hands slide against his slippery arms and chest, and you don’t fail to notice when your fingers brush up against his abs. Feeling a little flustered at the proximity of his tan, wet body, you finally roll out from under him and run away as fast as the water will allow.

(C/n) gets up and chases after you, so you turn around to fight him, splashing water into his fast-approaching face. You scream a little too, as if this will ward him off. But despite your efforts, his hands land on your waist and you crash down into the shallow water together.

You give up and lie back, laughing and trying to catch your breath. The two of you lie there for a moment, breathing heavily. (C/n) grins down at you. “Nice try, but you can never escape me.” He stands up and grabs your hands, pulling you to your feet.

You glance out onto the horizon. Though it’s light out, night isn’t that far away. “The sun is gonna set soon. Let’s try and build that fire now.”

(C/n) mumbles in agreement, and you walk back to the piles of wood on the beach. You pick up a couple sticks. “Okay, this can’t be that hard. I’ve seen them do it on TV. Who cares if I tried for an hour and it didn’t work?”

“Well, I beg to differ,” (c/n) interjects, “but I’ve learned to appreciate that attitude.” He winks.

Strangely touched, you smile and squat down with your sticks. Realizing you need tinder, you ask (c/n) to get you a stringy piece of bark. You shred it as well as you can and arrange it in a pile, throwing in a couple pieces of dried palm leaf. Well, this isn’t ideal. Then you remember the coconuts. The stringy brown fibers could make perfect tinder. (C/n) has a few coconuts in a pile for future use, so you pull off as much fiber as you can and make a bundle out of it, adding it to your pile.

Next you get the flattest piece of wood you can find and lay it down in front of you. You pick up a short stick with a relatively pointed end, make a notch in the flat piece of wood, and then start twirling the stick between your palms. (C/n) sits next to you, watching with great interest.

“I’ve never successfully done this, but…I think this is how it’s supposed to look…” you explain anxiously. There must be something you’re doing wrong, besides the less-than-ideal materials you’ve chosen. After a few minutes of twirling the stick with no results, you sigh and stop for a moment. “Maybe this was a dumb idea.”

(C/n) grabs the stick from you. “No, no, we can do it. Let me try.” He tries to imitate your actions, but it looks clumsy and the stick keeps sliding off the board.

“Couldn’t you have done Boy Scouts when you were little? It would be really helpful right now.” Impatiently, you take the stick back and start twirling it again. “See, this is what you’re supposed to do.”

As you show him, a tiny wisp of smoke appears. A high pitched squeal of excitement comes out of your mouth, and (c/n) laughs. “Smoke! We have smoke! Keep going.”

But your hands are starting to blister from all the rubbing. “I can’t. It hurts.”

“Okay. I got it, don’t worry.” (C/n) puts his hands on the stick and you quickly remove yours, not wanting to lose a second of the friction. He rubs his hands together like you did, more successfully this time. The wisp of smoke grows, and soon, a small ember appears. You gasp. “Oh my God, keep going! You got it!”

The ember grows, and once it’s big enough you stop him, picking up the piece of wood and carefully tipping the ember onto the pile of coconut and bark fibers. A tiny flame appears and largens, quickly engulfing the pile of tinder.

You and (c/n) gasp and shriek and jump up and down, grabbing each other and dancing gleefully around your tiny fire. “We did it! We did it!” You can barely breathe from excitement. (C/n) grabs your face. “You’re a genius.”

Your cheeks heat up a bit. “You’re the one who started the fire.” Then you look back at your creation. “Wait, we should add more wood before it goes out.”

The two of you grab sticks of various sizes and try to catch them on fire, but progress is slow. Most of the branches seem to be too green. “We need something more dead.” You glance around, spotting the piece of boat on top of the shelter. You pick it up. “Hey, this could work.”

Suddenly (c/n)’s joyful expression shifts. His face hardens. “No!” he shouts, snatching it away from you.

Shocked, you stand frozen. “I…uh, I’m sorry…”

(C/n) turns away and pokes through the pile of sticks, finding one that seems less green than the others and shoving it into the fire. It catches and he sits back down on the sand, avoiding your eyes.

You sit down hesitantly across from him, on the other side of the fire, and watch it in silence for a minute. (C/n) traces the burnt blue letters on the piece of boat. Out on the horizon, the sun is just beginning to set.

Finally (c/n) speaks up, slowly, as if it causes him great pain. “Mary was my mother’s name. We named the boat after her.”

You’re not sure what to say. After a moment, he continues. “She died when I was young.”

“I’m so sorry.” You watch his face. His eyes are fixed on the piece of wood.

“When the boat exploded…it was like I killed the last piece of her we had left.” He stares now into the fire. “Maybe if I die here, I’ll get to see her again.”

“Don’t say that.” You crawl around the fire to sit next to him, putting a cautious hand on his bare shoulder. “People love you, and they need you.”

“Who?” (C/n) looks up at you. “My father? He doesn’t need me. I don’t even think he cares.”

“Yes, he does.”

“You don’t even know him.” (C/n) glares accusingly at you.

“He cares, I know he does.” You know how bad that sounds, but can’t think of what else to say. You feel for him, and wish you could say something that would help in some way. You take a deep breath. “And…I know it won’t mean anything, but…I care. And I need you.”

He searches your face, perhaps seeing the sincerity there. Then he looks back down at his feet and wipes his eyes. “It means something. Thanks.”

You put an arm around him and lean against him, hoping to be of some comfort. For a while longer, neither of you says anything, watching as the sun goes down, setting the ocean on fire.

When the last bit of light is getting sucked out of the sky, you finally stand up and slide into the shelter with (c/n). You lie close together to conserve heat as the air gets cooler, you in only your bikini bottoms and (c/n)’s t-shirt, and him wearing only swim trunks. “Good night, (c/n),” you whisper.

He pulls you closer in response. “Good night, (y/n).”

You fall asleep to the sound of waves lapping at the shore.

The next morning, for once, you wake up first. The sunlight hits (c/n)’s face from the entrance to the stick shelter, and you admire the way it lights up his face. He looks so peaceful. Not to mention gorgeous. You shake your head slightly and crawl outside.

Your stomach grumbles, so you make a quick trip to the forest to find some more fruit. When you get back to the beach, (c/n) is already awake, sitting on the sand. He gets up when he sees you. “Where did you go?” he asks anxiously.

“I went to get some food,” you say, pointing to the forest.

“I got so worried. Don’t leave without telling me,” he says, a small whine in his voice. You chuckle. “Okay, I’m sorry.” You hold out a banana. “I brought this for you.”

“One measly banana?” (C/n) scoffs. “You underestimate my hunger. We’re going back in there.” He grabs your hand and marches you back into the trees.

After gorging on fruit, (c/n) points up to a tall tree with protruding branches. “That looks like the perfect tree to climb.”

You follow his finger. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll die.”

“Never climbed a tree before?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Let me show you how it’s done.” He drops a mango rind and throws himself onto the trunk of the tree, grasping onto its branches. He looks like a monkey, shimmying up the tree, and you giggle at the sight. He settles onto a forked branch high above your head and waves down. You wave back. Then he jumps down, almost crashing into you before you leap backwards.

“Your turn.” (C/n) grins and pushes you forward. “Up you go. It’s easy.”

“Unlike you, I’m not part monkey,” you remind him. Nevertheless, you approach the tree and grab a low-hanging branch, hoisting yourself up. You glance back apprehensively at (c/n), who gives you a thumbs up. “I’ll catch you if you fall!” He holds out his arms and grins again.

Swallowing, you continue up the tree, managing to get a few feet up. When you look back down, you realize how much scarier it looks from up here. Suddenly you feel dizzy. “I’m done!” you announce, hoping he can’t hear the tremor in your voice.

“Pssh, very well, jump back down.”

“I prefer to climb down safely, thank you very much.” But as you finish your sentence, the branch in your right hand bends and then breaks with a snapping sound. “Shit.” You try to find another handhold but can’t, and end up hanging on with just one hand.

(C/n)’s voice floats up. “You can fall, I got you!” You roll your eyes despite your fear. No way are you trusting him. Unfortunately, you are left without a choice as your remaining hand slips, and suddenly you’re falling.

You land in (c/n)’s arms, but his knees buckle under the sudden weight and he falls to the ground. You land on your back on the forest floor and he lands on top of you.

“Ow,” you complain, rubbing your butt.

“Sorry.” (C/n) smiles apologetically. You laugh softly and he joins in.

Without getting off of you, (c/n) reaches out and plucks a nearby flower. He tucks it behind your ear and smiles. “That’s cute.”

“Get another one,” you say, and he obliges, handing you another flower. You put it behind his ear. “Now you look cute too.”

“Thank you.” (C/n) grins down at you. His eyes wander across your face and down to your mouth. Then they meet yours for a second before he lowers his head and touches his lips to yours.

After a second he pulls back, searching your eyes. You smile and put your hand on the back of his head, pulling him back down. (C/n) brings his hands to your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. For a minute everything else just goes away, leaving the two of you, flowers in your hair, him lying on top of you. His lips are soft and he tastes like fruit.

Finally (c/n) smiles and rolls off of you, lying down next to you. “I should probably let you breathe. It would be sad if you suffocated right before we got rescued.”

“Mhmm,” you agree. You move your hand over and touch his. He twines your fingers together. You lie there in blissful serenity for who knows how long, letting all your worries drift away, simply enjoying each other’s company.

That evening, after you build another fire successfully, you sit together looking out at the water. (C/n) plays with your hair.

“Remember when I got all angry and said we couldn’t be friends.” He makes a face. “I’m sorry. I was being stupid.”

“I know, who wouldn’t want to be friends with me?” you respond jokingly.

“I’m serious. If we get rescued…” he pauses. “When, I mean. When we get rescued…I don’t want to just go our separate ways and never see each other again.”

You look up at him. He hooks an arm under your legs and pulls you into him like a baby. “I don’t care what happens, but I’m not letting you go.”

You smile to yourself. “Good. Cause I don’t plan to go.” You lean against him. “After all we’ve been through, all the trouble I went through to keep you alive, I am not going to let you just walk away. I mean, you owe me, like, a ton,” you add teasingly.

(C/n) chuckles. “Well, good thing we agree.”

You lapse back into comfortable silence. As you look out onto the water, you see a movement, and squint your eyes to see more clearly. You must be hallucinating, because it almost looks like a ship is on the horizon, coming in your direction.

“(C/n),” you say slowly. “Do you see something - over there -” You point, and you hear a sharp intake of breath. “Holy shit, (y/n). That’s a ship.”

You spring into action. “Get a tall branch!” you holler as you search the remaining pile of wood and check to ensure the fire is still going. When (c/n) returns with a long stick, you poke the end of it into the fire, desperately willing it to catch. At last, it does, and you immediately hold it high over your head.

“Get on my shoulders.” (C/n) squats on the ground. You withhold your concerns about weighing too much and climb on, almost dropping the stick in the process. (C/n) stands up slowly, and you manage to cling on, wobbling precariously. You hold up the burning torch and wave it above your head. Smoke rises into the sky. You pray feverishly for someone to notice, and you know (c/n) is doing the same. “Please, please, please,” he mutters. “Come on!” you add under your breath.

The ship continues coming towards you. It gets closer and closer until there is no longer any uncertainty that they’ve seen you. (C/n) kneels back down and lets you slide off, and you cling to each other, watching as an anchor is dropped and a smaller boat is lowered into the water. Tears prick your eyes as you think of home and, for the first time, really consider that you will make it back okay. And no matter what, you will have (c/n) to support you. You hug him tighter and wait for your rescuers to arrive and bring you back to civilization.