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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 used to always try to find these kinds of imagines and since I started a blog myself I’ve been dying to write one! 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 and pretend your crush’s mother is dead and has (probably) the wrong name, thanks!

P.P.S. this was the most fun I’ve had writing an imagine. Request more exciting plots like this one and I might prioritize it ;) now I’m really done rambling…ENJOY!

Word count: 8.6k (CRAZY LONG but it’s worth it for the character & relationship development! grab some snacks & get comfortable!)

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?”


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.”


“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.

I can’t even with the tag right now.  People still calling N an ass to M for use of a phrase to describe an acting choice.  Get off the guy’s dick, Jesus Christ.  How do you enjoy a show, let alone a ship, if you actually believe one of the key actors is a misogynistic shithead who enjoys insulting his friend and co-star?   An assessment that would directly contradict every statement I’ve ever heard or read, his female costars make about him.

Also, I don’t know if the phrases, “I love Norman,” “everything Melissa does is magic,” “I adore her,” and “she’s one of my dearest friends,” MIGHT possibly indicate their relationship perhaps has a bit more personal and emotional depth to it, than whatever a couple of fangirls on the Internet who likely aren’t even old enough to drink yet, somehow believe they can divine from the souls of complete strangers, they know from “the TV.”  

And yes, I usually stay out of the drama here, and yes I know, handsome millionaire doesn’t need my defense, but I have PMS right now and stumbling over that shit fucked up my muse, so my tolerance for this d’baggery, is a no go, even if it is like 1% of the group.  And I’ll just end here on a few pictures of this man who obviously doesn’t care for this woman, at all.

Archie Andrews - I believe you

Fandom: Riverdale

Pairing: Archie Andrews x Reader

Words: 1308

Request: by @deepestdreamlandinternet 

May I request an Archie Andrews imagine we’re you both dislike each other for some reason but kiss or something like with Veronica and him the closet????

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, I had so much fun writing it. I really hope you enjoy it. This imagine corresponds more to the first part of your request but I do think I might make another one inspired by him and Veronica in the closet.

Originally posted by archiiandrews

First day of school and already I managed to bump into him. Him and I were… complicated. He was the classic jock type, well build, especially after this summer, star football player and music prodigy. And even though every girl drooled over him I did not feel that way for the least bit. Back in the day maybe, just maybe I might have considered looking at him that way. What really made me mad was that a few years ago I called him a friend. Since my parents were close with his, I spend practically my whole childhood around him, he was the closest thing I had to a brother and as we grew I guess my feelings started shifting. But then as we were about to enter the high school world he got offered a seat at the popular table. He tried to fit me in his new lifestyle but I guess it just wasn’t my scene so we started seeing each other less and less. But there was this one night, everything was going south in my life at that point and I really needed him to be there just this once for me, to have a shoulder to cry on… I guess I was out of luck since I waited and waited in front of Pop’s dinner for him to show, until I got tired of waiting and returned home to the comfort of my bed. It was that night that my hatred for Archie Andrews officially embedded itself in my heart.

So today, almost 3 years after Archie had ditched me at that diner I was doing great. I skipped town for the past two years and went to live with my dad in Cali but I decided I was finally ready to come back and face my past in Riverdale. What I hadn’t expected was to be facing it so soon. Just as I was walking down the hall towards my new assigned locker I heard a group of loud boys coming round the corner, I hadn’t even bothered looking up to see who it was until one of them bumped into me while they were talking about an upcoming game. I was just about to let out a snarky comment but he spoke first “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” When I heard the voice my face instantly drained of colour. Fortunately, I was still looking down trying to pick up my scattered books so he couldn’t actually see my face. I quickly glanced at him grabbing my last book right from his hands and walked as fast as you could to get away from him. I wasn’t really sure if he had recognised me. To be fair he wasn’t the only one who had experienced and sudden ‘glow up’. During my time away I managed to work a little on myself and my feminine assets had finally appeared. Plus I had gotten glasses that just made me look smart in the hottest way possible.

Thank God this day is over. I thought waking towards my locker, earphones in my ears after the end of my last lesson. The day wasn’t really that bad, I’ve already managed to get a couple of friends around here but seeing Archie this morning threw me off and I was just eager to go home. “I knew it” I heard over your music. I looked around and there he was, leaning against the lockers staring me down. “What do you want Archie?” I asked annoyed. “I knew it was you. I could recognise you anywhere.” he stated proud of himself. “Well, congratulations, that’s amazing that you managed to recognise the girl who used to be your best friend. Allow me to get you a trophy to add to your already big collection of hurting Y/N 101.”I spat out sarcastically. “Hey, why are you mad at me? You were the one who left town without even saying goodbye. What was I supposed to think?” he asked suddenly hurt. “Oh that’s rich coming from you…” I muttered angrily walking away as I felt the tears rolling down. Get yourself together. He doesn’t deserve your tears.

Few days later

I was walking home from the gym listening to my favourite playlist. Things had gotten back to normal, relatively speaking. I was doing good at Riverdale’s high, I had made real friendships and Archie hadn’t talked to me since that first day. I finally turned to my street and saw my house, and someone sitting on my porch. At first I didn’t recognise the man, but as I came closer I realised it was a desperate looking Archie. “I thought I made it pretty clear that I didn’t want anything to do with you Archie.” I sated firmly. “Y/N, I really don’t know what happened between us… I just… I wish I knew so I could fix it” He responded weakly. “There’s nothing to be fixed.” I was trying my hardest not to break. “You really hurt me when you left, d’you know that?” he said regaining confidence. “Good.” I simply said. “I can’t believe you! You come back after 3 years of no letters, no emails, no nothing and when I confront you about it all you have to say is ‘good’?!” he stared getting mad. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to get into my home now.” I tried going around him to get inside but in vain. “Oh no, you are not going anywhere until you explain what the hell is wrong with you?” this let your bottled up rage free. “Excuse me?! What is wrong with me?!” I shot back pointing a finger to my chest to emphasise my point. He stared at me confused. “Oh you really don’t know do you?” I asked a little shocked. “Know what?” “Gosh Archie, are you really so full of yourself that you hadn’t even noticed that I desperately needed you?! You were my best friend! I was counting on you! You were supposed to be there the one damn time I needed you. Damn it Archie I freaking loved you I looked up to you! You made me feels things no one ever has and I was always there when you called! But the one time, the one time I was in a bad place and needed you, you left me standing there, in the rain for 5 hours waiting for my alleged best friend to show up. So yes I think I earned the right to be pissed don’t you?!” I was out of breath after that confession. We just stood there staring at each other for what felt like an eternity and then suddenly he grabbed my face in his hands and his lips came crashing onto mine. No one had ever kissed me like that, so passionately yet so sweetly. I was backed against the door forcefully, I couldn’t keep my hands off of him. 

Originally posted by lovershub

I couldn’t tell you the thousands things that raced through my mind during those few seconds but all I know is they all ended with him and me kissing on my porch. “I’m so incredibly sorry for what I’ve put you through Y/N… I had no idea… I got really drunk that night and when I finally came to my senses the first thing I did was looking for you, I went to your house but your mum had told you had left town for good. I love you, so much it hurts and when I thought I’d lost you I… well let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.” I just stared deeply in his eyes, unable to utter a single word, I kept searching for something to tell me was lying, that he didn’t deserve that second chance you were so compelled to give him but yet the only thing you managed to get out was “ I believe you”  before joining your lips again.

For anon!

Request: V3 boys when you fall asleep on them.


Gonta Gokuhara

- Being the true gentleman that he is, he doesn’t want to disturb you.
- He fears that if he does, you might be angry with him.
- He ends up getting you a pillow, thinking that it may be a bit more comfortable.
- Luckily, he’s able to reach said pillow without waking you up.

Kaito Momota

- Noticing that you’ve managed to fall asleep on him, he grins widely.
- Unfortunately, he doesn’t have a camera nearby to use this lucky opportunity.
- He instead decides to make sure that he has a clear picture of this event in his mind.
- He’s thanking his lucky stars that he has something to brag about to others…


- He seems confused at first, fearing that you might’ve passed out.
- However, he quickly realises that you’re just sleeping and calms himself.
- Not knowing what to do, he ends up trying to decide what to do with you if you don’t wake up sometime soon.
- He eventually decides, only you’ve already woken up by then.

Kokichi Ouma

- At first, he thinks that you’re pulling a prank on him, so he plays along.
- Only after a minute or two does he realise that you’ve actually managed to fall asleep on him.
- He then thinks of teasing you about this later, having a mental conflict whether to actually do this or not.
- He eventually decides to let this slide, although next time he won’t let you off that easily…

Korekiyo Shinguji

- He finds this event interesting, never having experienced something quite like this.
- He takes notes, even observing your breathing patterns.
- Smirking, he takes a note to thank you for this later on, when you’re awake.
- He even thinks of asking you to repeat this event again in the near future.

Rantaro Amami

- He beams, a caring smile on his face.
- Instead of waking you up, he focuses on keeping you as comfortable as possible.
- He refuses to interrupt your sleeping, so he eventually decides to enjoy the moment whilst it lasts.
- Even when you wake up, he’s still waiting there, patiently.

Ryoma Hoshi

- Despite his warnings, you manage to fall asleep on him accidentally.
- He sighs deeply, wishing that you would’ve paid more attention to his warnings.
- He tries to chase out the thoughts of savouring the moment, as he didn’t want to experience life like ‘normal’ again.
- Although, he eventually gives in.

Shuuichi Saihara

- He panics a bit upon realising that you’ve fallen asleep, only proceeding to calm down after a while.
- Having no idea on what to do during a situation like this, he sits there awkwardly, hoping for you to wake up sometime soon.
- He tries to move you off and onto something more comfy, only remembering that it would probably wake you up.
- He decides to keep this event to himself, not wanting to cause any fuss.

- Mod Saihara

Golden Days - Ryan Haywood GTA!AU Part 1/?

Pairing / The Vagabond x Reader

Prompt / “Her, he’d kill for. If she ever wanted him too, but she never would; she doesn’t burn inside like he does.” - @promptsonpaper

Word Count / 1,055

Warnings / swearing, violence 


A/N: its here! chapter one, i hope you enjoy it and please please let me know what you think/give feed back bc it is really helpful. Also i will try to get a chapter out a week or so but sometimes it might be a bit longer or shorter idk i just wanna make sure im giving you guys the best that i can do 

Keep reading

Astro’s reaction to you kissing their cheek~

Thank you for the request exoandbtsreactions~

Masterlist: x


While waiting for the bus to take you two home you come up behind Jinwoo and kiss him on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

Keep reading

Mercy’s Job

// A quick little thing i decided to make. It’s different from the original idea, certainly shorter and more quickly made than I normally do, but I hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to follow for more fics~ And of course comment down below, because that’s what matters most!

“Ahlan, beautiful,” A fair, Egyptian voice said. My heart fluttered (against my permission, I might add) and I turned to see Fareeha standing beside me. She was wearing her Raptora Mark VI armor, mostly blue with some bits of gold. Her rocket launcher was in one hand, pointing downward. Her helmet rested under her other arm, and her smile was radiant as always. Her eyes seemed to scan me, not with lust or want as others may have done, but with a tenderness and care. I was wearing my Valkyrie suit, staff in hand, but that look- Ah, it made me feel like I was wearing the best dress in the world! She made me feel that way.

“Pharah, we’re on duty,” I chided, despite my joy at seeing her. “Right now we are comrades, not lovers.”

“Am I not allowed to kiss my girlfriend good luck before a dangerous battle?” She asked, feigning offense. I opened my mouth to answer and she laughed. “Angela I’m only joking, do not worry about how I act, on the battlefield, I will do my job and we shall be nothing more than comrades, I promise.”

“Well, in that case…” I put my staff against the wall, going on my tip-toes and giving Fareeha a soft kiss. She smiled and held me close for a mere second before pulling away.

“Stay safe,” She whispered.

“You too,” I answered.

“With you healing me? I won’t have to,” She laughed.

“Ten seconds for battle.” Athena’s voice rang out. “Approaching the Temple of Anubis.”

“You heard her, quit fooling around!” Morrison called, clicking his visor into place.

“All systems ready for combat!” Diva called.

“What is all this standing around? There is glory to be won!” Reinhardt roared, putting his helmet on.

“Just stick to the plan and we will win,” Symetra reminded.

“Looks like everyone is ready,” I murmured. “Let’s get to work.”

This team had been on several missions together. We weren’t always deployed together, sometimes Lucio would come and I would stay at base, or Tracer would be here and Morrison would stay. Either way, this team was excellent. As always it began with Symetra deploying shields on us. I offered a kind smile and she nodded at me. Reinhardt deployed his shield, and the doors opened. Immediately a hail of bullets hit the shield. Reinhardt cursed in German (he had a very creative mind when it came to cursing) and began to push forward. I began boosting Morrison’s attack and he began returning fire, forcing the enemy to cover.

“Mercy!” Faree- No, Pharah, called. I saw her fly into the sky and immediately flew after her, boosting her attack now. She began firing below at the enemies. I saw Reaper turn to mist, Widowmaker grapple away. They were retreating! Diva cheered and flew after them, followed closely by Jack and then Reinhardt.

“Let’s go,” I told Pharah. She nodded and flew after them, and I flew close by. She landed at the top of the arch and began firing down at the bridge. Poor Bastion never stood a chance, being blown up into a million pieces before he could fire at either of us.

“I need healing!” Diva called. Pharah gave me a nod and I looked down, seeing Diva on top of the bridge. She was currently using her EPM to block Reaper’s bullets, but it wouldn’t last long. I flew down to her, behind the safety of her meka, and engaged my healing stream. Reaper growled and attempted to fire at me, but Diva kept herself between us and began firing. He turned to mist and floated behind her, but the minute he reappeared several of Symetra’s turrets, planted on the floor of the bridge, sprung to life. Reaper howled as they fired to him, and combined with Diva’s fire he was soon the floor. His body slowly disappeared.

“I need a doctor!” Morrison yelled. I couldn’t see him, but from the sound of ithe was on the point and he was in trouble. Diva gave me a playful salute then continued off her own way. I jumped off the side of the bridge, floating down to the ground. I flew towards him and immediately began healing. We both ran around, trying desperately to avoid Junkrat’s projectiles, until finally Morrison grunted and fired his rockets, landing a direct hit on the junker. A bullet whizzed next to my head and I felt my heart nearly leap out of my chest. Another crack of the rifle, and I expected myself to be dead. But the shot never came, I turned to see Reinhardt in front of me.

“Don’t worry my friends, I will be your shield!” He yelled. “Little gremlin girl, ATTACK!”

“Will you stop calling me that!” Diva complained, flying over us and towards Widowmaker.

“Don’t let them on the point!” Morrison ordered, firing at the staircase as Junkrat reappeared.

“Mercy!” An Indian voice called. I saw Symetra hiding behind a pillar, Junkrat’s grenades pinning her. He had returned quite fast, hadn’t he? I flew over to Symetra, yelping as an explosion grazed me, and began healing her. She sighed in relief and stood up.

Everything seemed to be going a bit too good. We hadn’t lost anyone yet, we were already on the point, we hadn’t even taken much damage. I frowned, looking around the area. Something was wrong, I could feel it. My team was on the point, the five of them now, fighting Reaper and Junkrat. Wait, we had faced Reaper, Junkrat, Widowmaker and-

And no one else? There should be at least six members, yet we’ve only faced three.

“Apagando las luces!” A Mexican, female voice said.  In that one instant, I knew everything was going to hell. Sombra, a hacker working for Talon, suddenly materialized out of thing air in the middle of our group. She fell to the ground and disappeared, and the rest of the enemies charged forward. Widowmaker grappled to a roof, firing down, Reaper materialized under the bridge, on their left now, Junkrat was behind a building, firing grenades over it and down on them, and then- Roadhog ran down the staircases on the right. They stood no chance.

They can if you keep Reinhardt alive. The more reasonable part of me thought. Yes, if I kept Reinhardt alive to defend us we could still win this! I prepped my staff and prepared to fly over there. My feet had barely left the ground when something yanked on my wing, pulling me back. An arm wrapped around my neck and the barrel of a gun was pressed against my back.

“Hola, amiga,” Sombra whispered from behind, her voice full of malice. I was such an idiot! Assuming she would stay on my team, helping pick them off. She must’ve spotted me and decided I was too much of a threat. I watched as Roadhog hooked Morrison, blasting his body full of junk. I hated this, being helpless as my team died, and I would’ve screamed but it was muffled by Sombra’s hand on my mouth. I tried to elbow her but she shot a bullet through my side, injuring but not killing me. No one heard my scream, and I clutched my staff so hard my knuckles hurt.

“Tsk, be quiet and watch your friends die,” Sombra purred. Diva yelled in frustration as her meka finally gave in, ejecting her. She backed up into Junkrat’s trap and her face only had a split second to register panic before a bomb blew up. I felt like a dagger was painfully and slowly entering my heart. I shook in the Mexican’s arms, trying in vain to pull away. Symetra was the next, trying desperately to give everyone shields and fire at the enemy. My eyes turned to Widowmaker, and I saw her smirk. I closed my eyes as another bullet left the rifle, and this one found its mark. I could practically hear her body hit the floor.

“I WILL AVENGE YOU ALL!” Reinhardt roared angrily. He stopped going on the defensive, he knew it was useless, and charged Junkrat, smashing him against the wall with his armored body. He looked up and swung his hammer, sending a huge flame towards the sniper, who barely dodged it.

“Looks like they need help, adios,” Sombra said. My heart pounded against my ribs and I closed my eyes once again. But suddenly I felt weightless, flying through the air, I immediately extended my arms to float still, and I heard Sombra hit something and curse. I looked to see her by the bridge, getting up from the floor with a pained look, and then I turned back to see my savior.

“Get down!” Pharah yelled. Oh Pharah. She must’ve used her concussion shot to push us away, and me out of Sombra’s claws. I didn’t hesitate and dropped to the ground. A rocket zipped over my head and I heard Sombra yell as it exploded. Without hesitation she boosted herself into the air, facing the enemies. Reinhardt had just smashed Roadhog-

“Sheib” I murmured, covering my mouth as he fell to the ground, lifeless. Roadhog yelled in anger and fired at him again for good measure.

“Justice rains from above!” Pharah yelled, strong and triumphant. I looked around for my staff, which had fallen when Pharah saved me. I needed to help her. I grabbed it and turned around, my feet leaving the ground once more as I flew towards her. I only made it halfway there when I heard a gun spinning up. A stream of bullets came from my side. I heard Bastion beeping happily, and I screamed as blood sprayed out of Phar- No, Fareeha, and her body fell lifeless to the ground. But it wasn’t over, no, it’s wouldn’t over. I was the doctor; I was their angel. My eyes could see what others couldn’t, golden flames floating over their corpses. Their very souls, too stubborn to disappear and pass on. I could still save them.

Roadhog turned to me, preparing his hook, but he wasn’t fast enough. I flew to Fareeha’s soul, standing right above it. My hand shifted through it. That previous fear was no longer in my body.

“Heroes never die!” I yelled, as loud as I could, and a golden light overtook everything in sight.

Mind Palace

Sherlock x reader

Note:So this is my first insert, even more, the first thing I wrote in English that wasn’t for school, so yeah, I might sound a bit weird but hey, who cares x) I just wanted to thanks @prettyxlittlexwriter for beta-reading it, like, thank you very very very much, I seriously owe you on that one, otherwise I probably would have never posted it and it would probably be exploding with mistakes, thanks :D If anyone wants some more, I could try, just ask me, I’ll see what I can do :)


“Get out. I need to go to my mind palace.”

And here he was again, kicking everyone out because of his damn mind palace. He even did it in the winter. He once expelled everyone out because they were ‘’too noisy’’. John and Mrs Hudson actually had to come down and ask me to give them asylum for the next hour or so… And I thought of moving into the third floor flat… second thoughts, good thing I stayed in the basement.

“Y/N?” asked John.

Lost in my own thoughts I hadn’t moved an inch. John was leaving the lab with Dr. Stapleton, explaining to her what was actually going on and why she was being kicked out of her own lab that she had so kindly lend us for our investigation.

“Don’t worry, I’ll wait for him.” I was the only one silent enough to stay when he did this. It wasn’t the first time I saw him doing it, but it still was something fascinating to witness. Standing there, his eyes still opened, blind to the world, seeing things no one else could, even going as far as moving them around his head.

If anyone walked in at this very moment, they would have seen him as a mad man (which he probably was after all…), but his every movement still seemed to have a certain precision and… grace. To me, it always appeared as if he led an orchestra. His head turning left and right, hand shifting invisible things through the air. I was hypnotized by his every moves.

Careful not to distract him, I slowly moved around the table, getting behind him and squinting, trying to figure out what he was thinking about. ‘’Liberty In’’… It had to be related to that phrase, we were just talking about it right before he kicked everyone out.

Playing the game, I started digging though all I could find related to the words Liberty In, making a list in a corner of my head.

Liberty… Freedom to do what you want or to go where you want? Liberty => Freedom? Statue of Liberty? 

In… Expresses the situation of something that is or appear to be enclosed or surrounded by something else? Expresses inclusion or involvement? Inn? Inside? India? Indiana? Indonesia?

What if it was a place? The name of a company, a store, a market or a restaurant maybe? But which country would… Oh!

At this very moment, the answer hit me. Of course it was a place!

“Liberty In-” Sherlock murmured.

“-Indiana. H-O-U-N-D, it’s an abbreviation…” I cried excitedly.
“… for a scientific project!” he finished. I smiled.
“Holmes, you are a bloody genius!”

Note (again): So yeah, that was it,thanks for reading, I hope you liked it ^_^


Characters - Daryl x Reader?, Negan x Reader, Dwight

Word Count - 1136

Warnings - Language, 7x03 spoilers

A/N- I’ve written for other fandoms, however this is my first ever TWD fic. I haven’t written anything in a few weeks so I might be a tad bit rusty and this isn’t edited. Still, i hope you guys enjoy this. I’m not sure if it’ll be a one shot or a series just yet.

Originally posted by hardyness

Keep reading


Jordan Fisher x Reader
Words: 915

I FINALLY REWROTE IT! SO I CAN FINALLY POST IT! and this is just part one my friends, there’s so much more to come! 

before i rant, i’d like to thank my friend Dani for suggesting this. I can’t remember your tumblr @ but you know who you are.

but continuing, i thought i’d let you know, i’m going to be a little bit busy over this coming month (school, music, etc) but i am going to try my hardest to write as much as possible! i might have to go back to waking up at 5 and writing in the mornings.

anyway, this is part one of YouTube Enjoy!



“You know, you’ve never asked to be in one of my videos.”

You looked up from your phone, raising your eyebrow. “And this is important because?”

Jordan shrugged, sitting down next to you on the couch. “Well, all of my friends have begged to collab with me because apparently it’s good publicity or if we were true friends, we’d be making a video together… but not you. Like, when you’re in my vlogs, my fans get really excited? It’s kinda… weird. They think you’re cute.”

“Everyone thinks I’m cute. But I’m not. I’m really tough. I can beat you in an arm wrestling match,” You stated, smirking and putting your phone down on the coffee table.

“Well honestly, I beg to differ. My fans think you’re the cutest thing. Especially when we take photos with the dog filter on Snapchat. Trust me, they eat it up,” He stated, crossing his arms

You rolled your eyes, picking your phone up again and scrolling through Tumblr. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, it’s true! Trust me for once please. They have so much love for you, it’s insane!” Jordan exclaimed, poking your cheek and flashing his signature grin.

“You know, you can’t just smile and think the world will fall at your feet. I’ve grown resistant. I have a soul.” You put your phone down once again and turned to face Jordan, who was now trying his best at giving you “puppy dog eyes”.

His bottom lip was poking out and he was whining softly, holding his hands like paws. “Please? I’ll pay you in food?” He suggested. You rolled your eyes, slapping his arm gently.

“Stop that. I’m sure that even if you asked, they wouldn’t want me in a video.”

“So what If I do ask? Would you do it then?”

You paused, biting your lip slightly. “If your fans say yes and you buy me food, there may be a possibility of a video. But it would depend what the video is and what kind of royalties I get.”

“Royalties? Wow. You sunk low there,” Jordan huffed, crossing his arms. “That’s one hard deal.”

“You could’ve gotten a real job and we wouldn’t have this problem.”

He faked shock, letting out a loud gasp. “Oh gosh! My heard has been struck by this vile person who does not know how to feel emotions. Wow, it’s as if my world has ended!” He fell into your lap, looking up at you and smirking.

“You should’ve become an actor. You could’ve lazed around the same amount, but got paid even less. Doesn’t that sound nice?” You said sarcastically, poking his nose.

“Well, I was in a drama class a long time ago. And there was this gi-“

“I’ve heard the story before Jordan. If you tell it one more time, we’re going to have a problem,” You interrupted, putting your hand over his mouth. He licked your hand, causing you to squeal and pull it away. “You disgust me.”

“So do you want to hear my video idea or not?” Jordan asked, sitting up and crossing his legs.

“Sure. Fire away.”

“Well, I’ve been looking at all the trends, both old and new, and I’ve decided that some of them need to be brought back,” Jordan started, fiddling with the sleeves of his jumper absent-mindedly.

“You know bringing back YouTube trends never ends well. It could end your career, or my social life. It’s risky as anything and I think you’re a mad man if you decide to go through with it.”

“Well, I already have decided to go through with it if you join me. But you know what? It’s going to be the most popular video my channel has ever produced, because you’re in it!”

You raised your eyebrow. “You really think I’m going to go through with this, don’t you?”

He shrugged. “Well, as my best friend I was hoping you would. But, getting back on topic. The boyfriend does my makeup challenge was the cutest thing ever. And of course, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you, so you could do my makeup instead which would be fun! Imagine how glam it would be!”

“Woah woah woah! You’re not my boyfriend! Let’s get that straight before we continue,” You said, crossing your arms and glaring.

“Of course I know that! But… we could make it the best friend does my makeup challenge? It’d be the cutest thing to exist! And we could make a vlog where we go shopping together and buy the makeup!” Jordan exclaimed, smiling wide.

You sighed softly, taking a moment to contemplate. You knew Jordan wouldn’t stop bugging you if you were to blow him off, so you took the only answer you could think of that wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“So when does all of this begin?”

The smile on Jordan’s face grew wider. “Right now!” He exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing his wallet from the kitchen bench. He grabbed your hand, yanking you out of the apartment. Your eyes widened as he dragged you through the streets.

“I didn’t sign up for this!”

“Oh, but you di- damn. I forgot my camera. I’ll be right back.” He dropped your hand, turning around and bolting back down the hall towards his apartment.

You shook your head in disbelief, tapping your fingers against your leg anxiously. All you wanted in life was to make your best friend happy… so saying yes had to be the correct decision, right?

Fights pt. 2 (Cashton/4)

Requested: yes this amazing anon did!  

Words: 1728

A/N: More of a forgiveness one. Might be confusing if you haven’t read the first part, but that’s your choice, you could probably skip the first part… ALSO I GOT A BIT CARRIED AWAY WITH ASHTON’S SORRY ABOUT THAT! 

ALSO Hair Color pt. 6 is in the works, so is pt. 2 to Paid to be Popular, for those people who care about that. I promise it will come out sooner than later. But for now, read this, enjoy it and shit :*






“Fuck of. “ Ashton chuckled, his eyes watering up.

“I’m sorry. “ You said as you closed your eyes, hoping a simple apology was enough.

“Yeah I bet. Just get out. “

“Ash, come on. “ You mumbled scared. Was he just throwing you out of the house or out of his life?

“Get out, Y/N. Please. “

And you did. You took your coat and walked outside. The sun was hanging, shining. It was wrong. It was supposed to be raining, pouring. Instead, the streets were filled with happiness – even the weather was too happy. You didn’t know what to do, so you unsteadily pulled out your phone. Your hands were shaking, dialing up the number of Calum.

“Hello, Calum’s talking. “ He answered, also excessively happy. “I can’t take the phone right now, so call back later or leave a message after the tone. “

And an annoying, high bip appeared. You wanted to throw your phone onto the ground so bad, just to watch the glass splatter. But you put it in your pocket, right where it belonged.

Then you started walking. You didn’t have a destination, you didn’t even release you were walking. But you did like a trance. People bumped into you and came with a rushed apology. But it didn’t matter if they hurt you – because you were already hurt.

How could you say those words? How could you hurt the one you loved?

You couldn’t get Ashton’s reaction out of your mind. He was smiling at you, clearly not seeing the insult coming. However, his eyes… his beautiful, green eyes filled with an ocean of tears. He didn’t yell, just talked very slowly, like he was trying to tame you, like you would attack him.

You had stopped walking. You were looking up at a store. Why did you stop here? You looked to your side, hoping that Ashton would come running down the street, begging for forgiveness. But, you knew, that this time you’d have to beg.

It hit you. You needed to buy him flowers and it was as if your unconsciousness knew that, because the store you were looking pointlessly at just happened to be a florist.

You walked in, the bell ringed. The strong smell of flowers hit your nose. They had everything in here: roses, lilies, daisies, tulips, everything. The desk was filled with flower decorations and behind it stood an elderly woman.

“What are you looking for, dear? “ She said with a calming voice, not noticing the tears on your cheek yet. She was smaller than you, walking with a bowed back. “Oh no, are you okay? Do you want anything? “

You chuckled. “I need some sort of apology. I’ve messed up. “

“Oh no. Was it your boyfriend? “

You nodded, swallowing. You just admitted something you wanted to do-over, making the tears appear again.

“Well, if you just wait here, I’ll make something for you. For free! “ She said smiling. Then she went out of your sight.

You stood on your heels, paralyzed. You wanted to look around, you wanted to smell the flowers and pick the prettiest. But you were nailed to the floor, not even moving your feet. You didn’t know how long you had been gone. It could be hours or just a few minutes. Right now, time stood still.

The lady came back with a bouquet of beautiful flowers. It was a mix of sunny colors and white colors. Sunflowers were almost hiding behind the white lilies and yellow roses sprung beside the white roses, all making it seem so happy.

“Here you go, sweetie. Get that boyfriend of yours. “ She handed you the bouquet and waved you out. But you turned around to say one last thing.

“Thank you. “You sobbed, making the woman seem worried sick. You didn’t know why the next sentence needed to be said. “People like you… there need to be more people like you. “

Then you stepped out in the sun. It was the same; people were busy, happy, living their lives. You started walking again, letting your senses guide you home. You remembered a few things; a certain poll, a red, big house and a small dog park. Then you were home, standing in front of the door.

You exhaled, knowing that you shouldn’t wait because then you would overthink it. Knocking at the door seemed ridiculous, but also like the only normal thing to do in this situation – barging in seemed wrong and hysterical. So you knocked, 1, 2, 3 times.

You heard steps walking towards the door. The door opened and showed your Ashton, the one you really would hate to lose. He blushed when he saw the flowers, making you more nervous. Your mouth went dry, but you know you had to say something. Ashton was trying to hide his smirk.

“I’m sorry. “ Ashton had been crying, without a doubt. His eyes were still slightly red, making your head redder.

“It’s okay. “ Ashton’s mumbled and went sideways so you could come inside. You walked a couple steps and he closed the door behind. You saw the donuts, untouched, on the kitchen table.

“It’s not okay. “ You exclaimed, throwing your arms out, forgetting you were holding the bouquet.

“Yes, it is. “

“Not, it’s not! “ You looked down on the happy colors of the bouquet. “You were going through a hard time and I’m supposed to be supporting, but I’m not. Instead, I’m hurting you!”

“I said hurtful things too. “ Ashton walked towards you. “It’s fine now. We’re both forgiven. “

You handed him the flowers in a rush, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“Here. It’s a sign of my apologies and my regret. “

Ashton laughed, which made you look up and see his gorgeous smile. He gladly accepted the bouquet and kissed you on the cheek.

“You’re adorable. “ You smiled foolishly when your phone rang. You picked it up as Ashton’s was finding a vase or something to soak the flowers in.

“What’s up? You called? “ Calum’s raspy voice sounded from the other end.

“It’s nothing. “ You confirmed, looking in Ashton’s direction. “I’m just hanging out with the one I love. “  


“Okay, okay, sshh…. “ Calum mumbled beside you on the floor, trying to make the tears to stop. “I love you, okay? “

He couldn’t just… That didn’t make it alright. You knew Calum loved you more than anyone did – just like he knew that he did take you for granted lately. Your brain started to hurt and you felt your whole body being weaker and weaker. So you leaned your head against the wall. Calum stopped breathing as soon as he saw your face. The mascara running, lipstick smeared and a wounded look behind the eyes.

“I love you. “ Calum whispered, making you turn your face. Calum didn’t usually cry – sometimes you were wondering if he even was able to. Still, it looked like his eyes were wet. It could have been the lightning or your blurry eyesight, but you wished that he did cry. You wished that he knew how much it hurt, every time he ignored your text or hung up on you.

“I need to sleep. “ You said, leaning up against him. Calum inhaled quickly as if he could hurt you by his breathing pattern.

“I’m sorry. “ He kept whispering, keeping you awake. “I’ll make it better, I promise. I promise. “
Then you fell into deep, calm sleep.

You almost forgot what was going on when you woke up. You lied with your head up towards the ceiling, your head still hurting from crying. You heard someone yelling and voices you couldn’t identify at the moment. You got out of bed – Calum must have carried you to the bed. You weren’t sure, but you thought it was night, since everything outside was dark and cold.

After standing up a couple minutes, you knew the voices’ owners, making it clear it was Calum, Ashton, Luke, and Michael discussing something. You could hear what, so you practically run to the living room and slammed the door open. The boys’ heads turned towards you so fast.

“Were you talking about me? “ You asked them, wiped sleep out of your eyes.

“No. “ Michael answered shortly, then sitting in the couch. Calum didn’t look at you, neither did Luke. But Ashton couldn’t stop looking you with a pity.

“Yes you did. “ You confronted. “Luke’s face is about as red as a tomato. “

Calum walked towards you and you remembered everything. The whole thing came back to you. Him getting home, him yelling, accusing, you crying, falling asleep on his shoulder. The flashback shocked you, making you take a step back in surprise, stopping Calum’s movement towards you.

“Guys, can you just get out? “ Calum asked, looking at the ground, fists clenched together.

“Yeah, sure. We’ll be in the bedroom. “ Ashton said as Michael got up with a sigh.

“Don’t do anything naughty. “ You joked and looked at Michael, making him chuckle. Calum stood there a couple meters from you, not talking.

“I’m sorry. “  He said as soon as he was sure the boys were gone. “I know, I’ve been a bad boyfriend lately and I… I just suck, huh? “

“Pretty much. “ You said, ice cold. Calum had to admit his mistakes before he could be forgiven. He knew that as well, but being a stubborn little bitch, it would be hard.

“I’m sorry. “ He said again with a gloomy gaze in his eyes.

“I get that, Calum! But why are you sorry? “ You yelled, crossing your arms, not giving in for his sad puppy-eyes.

“For taking you for granted. “ He mumbled, ashamed. It was like a teacher scolding a kid. “I won’t ever, EVER take you for granted again. I promise. “

He rushed towards your spot, pulling you close, tasting his breath. You felt yourself getting weaker in his arms, your heart racing, pounding against your chest.

“I love you. “ You whispered in his ear, before he pressed his mouth against yours. His hands running up your waist, your hands locking around his neck.

“Love you too. “ He mumbled between your lips.

request - i’ll do anything
masterlist - more like this shit, i promise

Arya x Gendry Week (Day 6; Command)

So this is a little longer, and toward the end a wee bit norty toward the end, if you catch my meaning, but nothing too NSFW. I just wanted to post something for you lot, so enjoy! 

It’s been years since he’s seen her.

When she emerges from the trees with her wolf at her side and her sword in hand; the very sword that had gotten them talking for the first time — or bickering, more like — he thinks he might finally be able to die.

Because every day since she disappeared, he’s been praying to every God to bring her back. He’s been searching, he’s been screaming, and he’s been silent. He’s fallen into himself and before that moment he was not willing to re-emerge, for what was the point in that when she was not there to see it?

What was the point of being when she wasn’t even being with him?

It’s a stupid question that didn’t make any sense but one that he’s asked himself over and over since she disappeared.

Now she’s staring right at him. He’s been avoiding her, trying not to be seen under her sleet-like gaze. Now they’re alone. Now she’s crying.

And then he drops the logs he’s been gathering for the fire.

And then she runs at him.

Keep reading

My Little Baby Llama - Part 8

TW -  Existencial Crisis, Suffering, Pain and in general a lot of strong sad feelings. Angst, grief, fluff. 

N/A: This is one of my favorite chapters ever, but it is one that had me feeling sad and weird for weeks. I hope you guys enjoy it! There is one more heartbreaking chapter after this one, and then I promise things will be happier. 

For those of you that might be a bit confused, this fic is happening around the end of January/2016. Before the tour dates release.

Words: 3800+

Disclaimer: Nor Dan or Phil belongs to me, and while I wish I had a Lizzie in real life, I do not have one either.


Dan P.O.V

I meet my father outside of Clary’s room. We weren’t in the best of terms since I quit law school, mainly because I had a kid to raise and I should focus on having a real job to give my daughter everything that she needed, but since Clary’s accident we have been talking more and being more social and cordial with each other, mainly because he basically adopted Clary as a daughter when she moved to Reading. Today I didn’t need social and cordial, I needed my father, and I know that he saw that in my eyes. I felt his arms around me, to embrace me for the first time in years. We were never that family that hugged everyday and talked about everything. I was never the favorite son, or the exemple to be followed, even after my parents finally realized that my job is valid, and I have a great life, I’m not nor will ever be the exemple to be followed in the family. Right now that didn’t matter. I’m still his son, and he still loves me. It felt good to finally feel again his love for me. I cried. With all my heart, my pain, my lost. I cried. I cried harder than ever before in my life. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t stand in my feet. My dad pulled us aside, to a free room, and he hugged me like never before, letting me sob in his shoulders.

Keep reading


It’s funny how some days are okay despite the fact there’s nothing special about them. It’s how it should be, isn’t it? There shouldn’t be anything special about having a day where you do not inherently dislike yourself. Every day should be “I am ok”. Sadly, it’s not, so whenever I get one of these days, I try to enjoy them.

I tried on my evening gown today. For a reason, but still. I’m gonna wear it to an annual ball next week and I wanted to check if anything needed fixing (sooooo many beads and sequins on that bodice holy shit). It makes me feel like a princess, it automatically makes me stand a bit taller (although that might also be the 5 inch heels…), feel a bit more majestic, a bit prouder of being me.

So at least there’s that. A navy blue vision of tulle, charmeuse and beading, paired with red heels. A good thing to hold onto.

(…as is me looking dramatically into the distance because what even)


Let me preface this by saying that while I enjoy military history and have done a lot research into the military, navy, marine corps, etc., I have never served myself. (Though I almost joined the air force, but that’s a story for another day.) These ranks are an amalgamations of various institutions across the world and what I imagine one world representative military organization might be like, when you combine various arms together.

This is the ranking schema I’m using for Crosshairs. People are welcome to use this for their own fanfics as well if they like. I simply wanted something a bit more complex than what BioWare gave us, to differentiate between the different jobs one can hold in the Alliance.


Right off the bat, there are two paths respective recruits can take - though Basic is pretty much universally the same. I see them divided up into ‘marines’ aka those who will do the fighting and those who run things behind the scenes: intelligence, research, ship side tasks, engineering, etc. Recruits bound for the marines enlist at rank Private 2nd Class, and everyone else enlists at rank Serviceman 3rd Class.

Enlisted who have a degree already graduate basic at the highest Enlisted rank: Corporal or Serviceman 1st Class.

The NCO ranks follow the same patterns, except they are Alliance personnel who have advanced to Officer without going through the Academy and being granted a commission.


NCO’s who enter the Academy in order to advance their careers are promoted to Officer Cadet (marines), Ensign Cadet (pilots), Ensign (everyone else). The point at which Special Forces recommendations are first considered.

Some pilots enter flight school right out of basic, effectively ‘jumping ranks’, though some go the NCO route and pay their dues as flight technicians. They are not on a command path.

I added ‘General’ and ‘Fleet Admiral’ to the marine path.

The O6 - O10 on the ‘everyone else’ path are command ranks.

Better Than a Box of Chocolates by sunshine-and-the-catsuit

Title: Better than a Box of Chocolates
Author: @sunshine-and-the-catsuit
Rating: T
Prompt(s): Bubble Bath
Summary: A Valentine’s Day alone with the one you love is hard as a single parent, but thanks to Lucia Barba Olivia and Rafael have a chance to be together. 
A/N: I’m horrible at summaries and rusty at everything these days, but here’s a bit of fluff! I’m so sorry- I didn’t get it beta’d, so I apologize for any errors that my poor tired eyes might have missed. Enjoy!

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Make A Bet

For my Akashi-kun, @hanyamiya. I’m sorry it’s so short, I really didn’t have time like I expected to. I’m sorry for any plot holes, but I hope you like it. PS it’s only like 3,000 words it might be a bit short but I had nO TIME OKAY. PPS I might rewrite this later when I have the time. But for now enjoy ur crack

If you were looking for the official definition for the word sweet, chances were you’d find a photo of Kuroko Tetsuya. Akashi guaranteed, there was nothing and no one who was sweeter than Kuroko.

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Reverie - Fluff OneShot

Literally the first drabble I have ever written for this fandom, and the first one I’ve written in a long time. I’m a bit rusty, but, I had to get out the extreme floof! Enjoy!

Step step step. Turn. Step step step. Turn.

It was near impossible to keep still, unlike the lanky young mans companion. Who was also nervous, but in a different way. Sun shone through the wide windows, giving a comfortable glow. A soft hum interrupted the pattern.

“Y'know, you just might wear a hole in the floor like that, Jimbo.”

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