Tisayemate - TisAyeMate

About me 🕊️

>> I go by Lauren (she/her, I’m straight)

—> Lauren is not my actual name, but it’s the name of my oc which I’ve used for a while to keep my identity safe online

>> I am 18

>> I am a student— currently in school

>> I am Asian with French roots

>> Contributing to this blog is a hobby

>> My English is not perfect, but I try

>> I write what I feel like (I’ll list characters and fandoms down in my masterlist** over time)

>> I am currently: OPEN/closed to asks and requests

>> I 𝘿𝙊 𝙉𝙊𝙏 write smut. (It is uncharted territory for me and I personally don’t think I’m at that level yet, but if necessary, I will try.)

>> I ONLY write for fictional characters and universes (I prefer to create stories that respect the boundaries of real-life individuals. Writing for real people, especially those unaware of such content, can feel intrusive to me, so please refrain from requesting non-fictional character scenarios.)

>> I’m a human too so please be nice. (People pleaser problems, I have to set boundaries for my sanity)

>> I want this to be a safe space where we can all come together to read and talk/write about ideas, thoughts, characters and what not so I don’t want to be strict but I’m just going to put out here that I will not tolerate bullying. (I mean in writing, if you want angst—sure) but I hope you get what I mean

—> but that being said (even though I would not like to), if I have to block your account, I will.

>> Lastly, this is my first time doing all this so go easy on me, but do drop by some constructive criticism where you see fit.

>> Okay maybe not lastly but this is my last point now, promise. This is important to me so I hope you respect it. If you want to use my writing or my fics, at least credit me and drop me a text about it. I’d appreciate if you did both but generally, crediting my work should suffice.

MASTERLIST **

Wattpad

Spotify

** Not much content yet, I’m afraid; but I’ll populate it in time to come. Please have some patience because I am still a student with other priorities and a personal life, thank you

(Enjoy and have a lovely time 🥰)

Credit to @cafekitsune for the banners

Drowning

Draco Malfoy x Troubled!Reader

Angst

AN: Ghosted for a while, back now. Wrote this because life is fucking miserable. Wrote this during a call from my dad berating me over bullshit. Might take a while to get back to this because holy fuck I can’t do this.

Summary: Two people sink under the weight of the expectations placed on them.

Story under the cut

The forest swallowed your cries whole. The world was black and empty around you, just the way you wanted it. The air burned in your chest as you tried to catch your breath between muffled sobs, but it felt like the trees were closing in, suffocating you.

You pressed your forehead against your knees, curling into yourself like you could somehow shrink small enough to disappear completely. The damp moss seeped into your skirt, and the cold bit at your skin, but none of it mattered. Nothing did.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out here. The castle felt like a lifetime away, and that was a comfort. You didn’t have to hear their voices. Not your parents’, not your professors’, not your friends’. All their expectations, their constant demands—they couldn’t reach you here. But their words? They still echoed in your mind.

“You’ll ruin everything if you don’t listen.”

“Do you think this is about what you want?”

“Ungrateful little—”

A sharp gasp clawed its way out of your throat, and you dug your nails into your arms, trying to hold yourself together. But it wasn’t working. You were unraveling, and no one could stop it.

“Crying in the dark doesn’t solve anything, you know.”

The voice made you flinch. You hadn’t heard anyone approach, but there he was, leaning lazily against a tree as if he had every right to invade your crumbling solitude. Draco Malfoy. His grey eyes glinted in the dim light, sharp and piercing, but his expression wasn’t mocking. Not tonight.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” you croaked, your voice raw and broken.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his boots crunching on the leaves. “What are you doing out here?”

“Go away,” you snapped, though it lacked any real force.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he crouched down a few feet away, resting his forearms on his knees. His gaze never left you, and it made you feel exposed, like he could see every raw nerve and broken piece you were trying so desperately to hide.

“You think I don’t know what this feels like?” he asked quietly.

You barked out a laugh, bitter and humorless. “Oh, I’m sure your perfect little life is so hard.”

He stiffened at that, but his jaw only tightened. “Perfect?” he repeated, his voice dripping with something that wasn’t quite anger. “You think growing up in the Malfoy family is perfect? You think having every move dictated, every thought criticized, every mistake punished is perfect?”

His words hit you like a slap.

Draco’s voice dropped, quieter but no less cutting. “You don’t get to talk about things you don’t understand.”

You looked away, shame prickling at your skin. The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

Finally, you heard him exhale, the sound sharp and shaky. “I know what it’s like,” he admitted, his tone softer now. “To feel like there’s no escape. To wake up every day knowing nothing you do will ever be enough for them.”

Your throat tightened. You wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t understand. But the words wouldn’t come.

Draco sat down beside you, leaving a deliberate space between you. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “Sometimes I come out here too,” he confessed. “When it gets too much. When I can’t breathe in that place anymore.”

You turned your head slightly, studying his profile in the faint moonlight. His sharp features were unguarded for once, his usual smirk replaced by something that looked suspiciously like pain.

“I didn’t think you cared about anything,” you whispered.

He let out a dry laugh, devoid of humor. “I don’t have the luxury of not caring. Not when everything I do reflects back on them.” He shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “And neither do you, apparently.”

Your chest ached at the truth of his words.

“They’re never going to stop, you know,” he said quietly, his gaze fixed on the shadows ahead. “They’ll keep taking and taking until there’s nothing left of you.”

“I know.” Your voice broke on the words, and you hated yourself for it.

Draco turned to look at you then, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Then don’t let them win,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Don’t let them take everything.”

You laughed bitterly, tears streaming down your face. “And what’s left for me to keep?”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, to your surprise, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours briefly before pulling away. The touch was fleeting, but it was enough to ground you, just a little.

“You keep the parts of yourself they can’t touch,” he said softly. “Even if it’s just a shred. Even if it’s just the fact that you’re still here.”

You didn’t answer, but something in his words stayed with you. It wasn’t comforting, not exactly. But it felt real, and that was enough.

Draco didn’t say anything else. He just stayed there beside you, the two of you sitting in the darkness like shadows made flesh. It wasn’t peace, but it wasn’t loneliness either. It was something in between. And for now, that was enough.

Resistant

Kylo Ren x ResistanceSpy!Reader

uhm.... slightly angsty, being forced against your will

Summary: After finding a Resistance spy on his ship, there is nothing more he'd want than to break her.

AN: My exams are over (I'm back!)

story under the cut

Her breath was a silent tremor as she crouched in the shadows of the First Order ship, watching the patrol pass. She’d been running for what felt like hours, slipping through every gap and doorway she could find. The metallic scent of the corridors filled her nose, cold and sterile, a contrast to the heat of fear thrumming in her veins. This ship was her way out, her chance to vanish. She just had to get to an escape pod, and she’d be gone.

A solitary stormtrooper rounded the corner, moving in her direction, his helmet gleaming under the dim lights. She didn’t hesitate. A swift blow to the back of his neck, and he crumpled, hitting the ground with a muffled thud. She had the armor on in seconds, adjusting the mask, letting its cold weight smother her expression. She fell in line with the rest of the squad, silent, unassuming.

But her calm was short-lived.

The corridor hushed, and she sensed a presence before she even saw him. He was at the far end, tall, his figure a shifting shadow beneath the black robe that rippled as he moved. Kylo Ren. His helmet turned, the empty void of his visor pointed right at her.

“Trooper,” he said, his voice a deep, corrosive rumble, heavy with command. “Step forward.”

She swallowed, controlling her breaths, her mind racing. To hesitate would be a death sentence. She stepped out of line, the weight of his gaze pressing on her, solid and inescapable, as if he were already carving into her mind.

“Remove your helmet,” he ordered, the authority in his tone brooking no defiance.

Her fingers tightened on the edges of the helmet. This was it—her mask removed, her cover shattered. She slipped it off, feeling the cold air hit her face as her eyes met his. She forced herself to stay still, blank, giving nothing.

The silence between them thickened, stretching as his stare bore into her. His helmet tilted slightly, a silent calculation, as though appraising a dangerous specimen. There was something eerie about the stillness that filled the space between them, like the calm before a storm.

He took a step closer, and the dim lights cast deep shadows over his mask, giving his presence an even darker, sharper edge. “You’re not one of mine,” he said, each word edged in steel.

She didn’t respond, her expression remaining impassive, like a soldier who knew exactly what her end looked like. Silence was her only armor now, her one fragile defense against the darkness he wielded so easily.

Another step. The gap between them was closing, and she could feel his anger like a heat radiating from him, an aura that threatened to crush her. “Nothing to say?” His tone was mocking, laced with a quiet fury. “It’s rare for a spy to be so... compliant.”

She met his words with the faintest arch of her brow. It was subtle, but enough to show him that fear wasn’t her game. She’d faced worse odds, held her own in situations with no escape. If this was how she would go, she would go quietly, and she would go with dignity.

“You think silence will protect you,” he continued, the low cadence of his voice crawling under her skin. “But I don’t need words to uncover what you’re hiding.”

The air between them pulsed, his power reaching out like tendrils, slithering into her mind. She felt him push, testing her, looking for cracks, for any hint of weakness. Her jaw tightened as she held her ground, her mind steeling itself against the invasive pressure.

“Interesting,” he murmured, though there was no warmth in his tone. “You’ve been trained.”

The smallest twitch of her mouth was her only response. She was prepared to withstand pain, to endure the tearing of her thoughts and memories. If he thought he could break her that easily, he was mistaken.

“Not even a name?” His helmet leaned closer, and she could feel his voice resonate through her. “Then allow me to remind you who I am.”

The Force clamped around her throat, an invisible vise that tightened slowly, inexorably. She could feel her airway constrict, her vision darkening at the edges, but she forced herself to remain still, even as her lungs burned, fighting for air.

But her expression didn’t change. She looked at him, a defiance woven into the quiet depths of her gaze. She might not be able to speak, but her eyes told him everything. She would die before giving him what he wanted.

A flicker of something almost like irritation crossed his stance, and with a flick of his fingers, he released her. She stumbled back, catching herself against the wall, her breaths shallow and quick. His stare remained unbroken, as if assessing how far he could push before she shattered.

“You think you’re clever, don’t you?” His tone held a hint of amusement now, but it was cold, twisted, like the edge of a knife. “The Resistance has sent me a spy who thinks she can survive simply by keeping quiet.”

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, but laced with an unyielding calm. “If you think intimidation works on me,” she murmured, “then you don’t know the Resistance.”

Kylo tilted his head, a silent, menacing appraisal that sent a chill down her spine. “Intimidation?” His voice was barely above a whisper, deadly and soft, like the edge of a razor. “I don’t waste time with intimidation.”

Without warning, he raised his hand, and she felt the world tilt as her feet left the ground. An invisible force pinned her against the wall, her shoulders pressing hard into the metal, the cold seeping into her skin. She could feel the weight of his anger, his frustration, pressing into her mind with a relentless pressure that threatened to rip her apart from the inside.

He stepped closer, each step deliberate, slow, until he was mere inches away. She could see her own reflection in the glossy surface of his mask, her own narrowed eyes staring back at her.

“Tell me your name,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that reverberated through the cold metal at her back. The Force held her in place, unyielding, and she could feel the ice in his command, a thinly veiled promise of pain.

She held his gaze, her expression betraying nothing, even as her pulse thundered in her ears. Silence was her only weapon, her only shield, and she wielded it with a stubborn, quiet resilience.

Another beat of silence, stretching, twisting, as his patience waned.

His hand raised slightly, and she felt a sharp, crushing force against her ribs, like invisible fingers digging in, pressing down with a cruel, unyielding pressure. Her breath hitched, but she bit down on the pain, refusing to make a sound, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“Defiant until the end,” he murmured, almost to himself, as though he’d expected something different from her. As though her silence was somehow more intriguing than he anticipated. “But even the strongest minds break.”

He dropped her suddenly, and she stumbled forward, catching herself before she fell to her knees. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps, her vision swimming, but she steadied herself, her gaze lifting to meet his once more.

Kylo watched her, silent, his stance unreadable, his posture cloaked in shadow. Then, after a long, tense moment, he leaned in close, his voice a low, dark murmur. “You may have nothing to say now. But I will uncover every secret, every lie, until you have nothing left.”

With that, he turned sharply, leaving her alone in the silence of the dark, cold room.

be my sweet little pastry? - ♡

tangerine x reader

summary, tangerine meets you in your bakery and he’s determined to make you his.

since the cold weather soon arrived in the cities of london, that'd meant you're bakery would open just in time for the cozy seasons. people wanting to enjoy a nice pastry and a warm cup of a sweet substance as they relished in someone else's company.

located between two other stores, your bakery stood. love at first bite. a cheeky little name that made you smile whenever you'd hear it. amusing and clever, just the right amount. so with the seasons beginning to bloom, you had opened.. nervous for people's opinion, but also determined, driven by ambition to at least make people smile with a sweet treat.

so with that, you'd finally set everything how you wanted. each pastry sat nicely behind the glass that showcased it, seats and tables scattered around the small shop, the menu displayed, hanging by the ceiling, and finally, you. standing happily behind the counter as you attempted to one of the customers, handing their pastry wrapped in a small box tied with a pink bow. ౨ৎ

the day had nearly gone as a success. so many customers had complimented the cozy looking shop, their eyes growing wide as they took a bite into a pastry they didn’t expect to be so, wonderful. it brought a smile and perhaps a small blush on your cheeks. managing a bakery with only a couple co-workers wasn't easy, but it was manageable.

it wasn't until the second handle of the clock that hung on the wall ticked at exactly 8pm. the shop closed at 9pm. how lovely, it was almost time to close. a small sigh leaving your lips as you glanced outside. to admire how the night sky would look, maybe watch as people walked by, if the weather had changed.. but no.

you met the gaze of a man.

tall, broad, and the most beautiful blue eyes you're grateful for have witnessing. he held your eyes, brows tugged in thought, almost anger before looking away to the sign just above the shop. your cheeks flush with the reminder of the name, not being able to help the smile on your lips. his frame now approaching, slowly pushing open the door, the bell above ringing softly. greeted by the lovely fragrance of baked goods as he stepped inside. scanning around, studying, learning.

and in that moment, you swore you could melt into a puddle on the floor. this man was the perfect portion of sophisticated and cunty, just from a glance. wearing a dress silk looking dress shirt, unbuttoned to see enough of his chest and the gold medallion, sitting happily on it. black slacks and dress shoes to finish adorning the look.

doe-eyes looking at him in almost admiration before he approached the counter. tearing your gaze quickly, almost embarrassingly before looking back. how could a man be so stunning?

"hey sweetheart," he started, his accent eminent in his voice, "you the owner of this lovely lil' shop?" teasing for a moment with a small smirk, finding the blush on your cheeks, extremely adorable. his flirting coming to him oddly natural.

your voice getting caught in your throat for a moment before nodding, trying not to stutter or say something stupid. "um.. yes," you manage to say softly, regaining your normal smile. "w-what would you like.. sir?"

he seems amused by your response, pursing his lips in thought as he looked at the displays with a nod. "just a slice of lemon meringue pie will do, love. to-go."

you couldn't help but feel your cheeks burn a little darker, feeling his gaze trailing over your frame. the look subtle, but definitely felt. would making conversation be wise? gosh, could you even muster a sentence? being under the gaze of a random man should leave you afraid, concerned. but it felt oddly safe. safe in this mans presence. just who exactly was he?

"so i take it you're new around here, yeah?" he questioned, meeting your gaze as you straightened behind the counter, boxing his dessert with gentle hands. his gaze on them briefly, not going unnoticed.

"today's my first." you said with a proud glim in your eyes, feeling that same ambition to thrive and grow. "london just started feeling like home, and now, here i am." you said with a shrug as you finished tying the bow on the box, gently sliding it to him on the counter.

his head tilting slightly as he saw the box. of course, pink with the sweetest bow tied on. this girl was a sweetheart, a sweetheart he had now grown determined to make his own.

"m'glad you feel that way," he smiled, genuine, his heart sparking the smallest warmth. a sign that he wasn't just cold, wasn't an empty shell of a man. "don't reckon you know that many lads around here.. so," he paused a moment, his card between his index and middle, offering. "would you take a chance with me? be my sweet little pastry?"

and like that, your words had dissolved into a silent gasp, almost as if being punched in the gut. this man was so different from any you've ever met. bold, determined, and blunt. your hand covering your lips, attempting to hide the smile behind it.

with a small smile, you reach for the card. his fingers grazing against yours, sending a shiver down your arm, and a warmth straight to your heart.

"i'd like that."

────୨ৎ────

thank you for reading my first post!! it's kinda sucky, but i tried! please leave any mistakes or corrections i can make in the comments. :)

Hi Lauren, happy new year!! 🥳 I hope you had a great start to the year and that it’ll bring you all good and joyful things!!

Would it be okay to make a request with Newt Scamander and reader? You see I’ve watched the 2nd movie again, and I was so sad that Teddy got hurt while helping Newt retrieving the blood pact pendant, I know he healed well, but I felt like ripping Newt a new one, although know he must feel bad for it too. She’s very kind, quiet, intelligent, and usually very calm, but when she finds about this, she really rips a new one and everyone is shocked of her outburst and Newt is all on his own in this. She tends to Teddy and spoils him rotten while he heals and Newt is in the dog house (no kisses, no hugs, no nothing for a while).

Frost

Newt Scamander x reader

Angsty but cute

Summary: When Teddy gets hurt, she turns cold, leaving Newt to earn back her trust while she spoils their injured Niffler rotten.

AN: Thank you lovely anon! Happy New Year to you too! I’d hope that you have the best, most fulfilling year you can get. I thought this was a pretty cute idea (it too broke me to see Teddy injured.) So I hope I got this plot right, this is the first ask that I’ve ever received so I’m really stoked for this. (You have no idea how excited I got when I saw this) Once again, thank you for asking. If I haven’t gotten it right, don’t be afraid to pop into my inbox/messages to drop down some constructive criticism/ amendments to make. Without further ado, let’s get to it!

Story under the cut

Newt Scamander sat at the wooden table in the small kitchen of your shared home, his hands wringing together anxiously. The usual warmth in the room seemed to have vanished, replaced by an icy tension that clung to every surface. Across from him, you paced back and forth, your quiet demeanor utterly shattered.

"You—you let him get hurt!" you snapped, your voice cracking with the sheer force of your emotions. Teddy, the mischievous Niffler who usually brought joy and chaos in equal measure, lay tucked in a makeshift bed by the fireplace, his tiny paw wrapped in bandages.

Newt flinched at your tone. "I didn’t mean for—"

"Didn’t mean to?!" you cut him off, your usual calm and gentle nature nowhere to be found. "You knew he’d follow you into danger! He always does because he adores you, Newt! And look at him now!"

Your voice, usually so soothing, now carried a sharp edge that startled even you. But the sight of Teddy injured, his usual cheeky energy dulled by pain, had unleashed a storm within you that couldn’t be contained. You glared at Newt, your chest heaving as you struggled to keep your composure.

"He was trying to help," Newt said softly, his voice thick with guilt. "I never wanted him to get hurt, love. I… I thought I could keep him safe."

"Well, you didn’t!" you snapped, and Newt’s head hung lower. "He’s just a baby, Newt! A baby! And you dragged him into some reckless mission that could have… that could have…" Your voice broke, and you turned away, blinking back tears.

Newt stood slowly, his hands reaching out to you, but you stepped away, your arms crossing protectively over your chest. "Don’t," you warned. "Not until I… not until I can trust you again."

He froze, his outstretched hand dropping to his side. The weight of your words settled heavily on his shoulders, and he looked over at Teddy, who stirred slightly in his bed. Newt’s heart ached with guilt and sorrow.

Turning your back on Newt, you knelt by Teddy, stroking his fur gently. "Oh, my sweet boy," you murmured, your voice trembling with affection. "You’re so brave, aren’t you? But no more heroics, you hear me? You’re going to rest and recover, and I’ll take care of you."

Teddy let out a small, contented chirp, his little paw curling around your finger. You smiled softly, tears threatening to spill over again as you whispered promises of treats and snuggles to the injured creature.

Behind you, Newt watched helplessly, his heart breaking at the sight of you turning all your love and attention toward Teddy while he was left out in the cold. For days, the frostiness between you lingered. You tended to Teddy with tender care, showering him with affection and little treats, while Newt remained in the doghouse. No hugs, no kisses, no soft smiles meant for him—only the occasional glance, and even those were weighted with disappointment.

One evening, desperate to make things right, Newt crept into the kitchen while you were preparing Teddy’s dinner. In his hands, he held a small bouquet of wildflowers, their vibrant colors dulled slightly by his nervous grip.

"I picked these for you," he said tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know they can’t make up for what happened, but I wanted to… to show you how sorry I am."

You paused, glancing at the flowers before returning your focus to the task at hand. "It’s not flowers I need, Newt," you said quietly. "I need to know you’ll think before putting him in harm’s way again."

Newt’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded earnestly. "I promise. I’ll do better. I… I’ll earn back your trust."

Your hands stilled, and you turned to face him fully. The sincerity in his eyes melted a bit of the ice around your heart, but you weren’t ready to forgive completely. Not yet. "It’s going to take time, Newt."

"I’ll wait," he said without hesitation. "As long as it takes."

For the first time in days, a faint smile tugged at your lips. "Alright," you said softly. "Now go sit with Teddy. He’s missed you."

Newt’s face brightened, and he hurried to Teddy’s side, his fingers brushing gently over the Niffler’s fur. As you watched them, the warmth began to seep back into the room, a small step toward mending what had been broken.

Also, note that if yall want to make a request or suggestion, pop into my inbox and ask away! Completely fine. No need to ask if you can make a suggestion/request. I’m okay with most suggestions so feel free to speak whatever comes to mind. (I’ve been so excited for requests man yall have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this 😭)

Tough Love

Rocket Raccoon x GOTG!Reader

Fluff, teeny bit of angst

Summary: You pass out from overworking and it shows how much Rocket actually cares.

AN: your little reminder to stop and take breaks. We are human, we need time to ourselves. Give yourself five minutes to slack and chill and be as lazy as you want, but then pick it back up again. Love yall 🥰

The ship was quiet, aside from the gentle hum of the engines and the occasional metallic clink from Rocket’s tools. You’d been at it for hours—running diagnostics, fixing systems, checking every detail twice because that’s just how you were. But exhaustion was beginning to creep in, wrapping around your body like a heavy, invisible weight.

You hadn’t noticed when you finally slumped over your station, arms folded beneath your head. The blur of wires and machinery slowly faded away as your eyes fluttered shut.

Rocket noticed, though. His usual gruff demeanor didn’t falter as he glanced your way, muttering something under his breath about "dumb humans overworking themselves." But instead of waking you up with his usual sarcastic quip, he sighed.

With a quick look around to make sure no one else was paying attention, Rocket shuffled over to your side. His steps were lighter, quieter than usual. The sight of you curled up and dead asleep softened his hardened expression for just a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning at himself as if wondering why he was even bothering. Then, before he could overthink it, he grabbed a spare blanket from one of the supply crates and carefully draped it over you.

"Stupid," he muttered, shaking his head as he stood there for a second longer than necessary, watching the slow rise and fall of your breathing. "Gonna work yourself to death one day, y’know that?"

Satisfied that you were comfortable enough, Rocket retreated to his workstation, ears twitching at every small sound. Despite the fact that no one was watching, he continued with his usual snarky remarks under his breath, but there was something different in the air—an unspoken care that lingered in the silence.

When you woke up, it took a moment to remember where you were. The ship’s cold metal floor wasn’t exactly conducive to sleep, but there was something else—soft warmth enveloping you. You blinked blearily, sitting up slowly, only to find yourself wrapped in a blanket.

A blanket that definitely hadn’t been there when you passed out.

Rocket was still tinkering away across the room, grumbling at a stubborn panel. You watched him for a moment, something swelling in your chest as realization washed over you. He hadn’t said anything, of course—Rocket never did. But you knew. He cared. More than he let on.

With a soft smile, you stood up, the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders like a cape. You padded quietly over to him, heart full, and without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around him from behind in a warm, grateful hug.

Rocket stiffened instantly. "What the—hey! What’re you doin’?!" His voice was sharp, but the way he didn’t immediately shove you off said more than he ever could.

"Thank you," you murmured softly, your face still pressed against his shoulder. You could feel the way his fur bristled under your touch, but you also noticed how he didn’t push you away. He hesitated, as if struggling to keep up his usual gruff exterior.

"Yeah, well… don’t go getting all soft on me," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder quickly. "You’re the one who passed out in the middle of a job. Not my problem if you can't handle it."

You smiled, knowing full well he was trying to save face. But before you could respond, there was a soft cough from behind.

The rest of the Guardians had gathered near the doorway, each of them wearing expressions ranging from amused to knowing. Drax, predictably, was the first to speak.

"It is obvious Rocket cares for you deeply," he announced, as blunt as ever. "This hug confirms it."

Rocket bristled instantly, his ears flattening against his head. "Shut up, Drax!" He shoved your arms off, finally turning around to face the others with a scowl. "I don’t care about anybody. She’s just—ugh, whatever! Y’all are delusional."

Peter smirked, arms crossed over his chest. "Sure, Rocket. Totally believable."

Gamora gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, while Groot swayed gently in the background, seemingly pleased with the scene unfolding. The whole team knew better, and you could see it in the way they exchanged glances and held back their laughter.

Rocket, clearly flustered, shot you a look. "Don’t ever do that again," he growled, though his voice had lost some of its edge. "I ain’t some teddy bear for you to cuddle whenever you feel like it."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "Okay, Rocket. Whatever you say."

But you knew. And so did everyone else. Beneath all the sarcasm and tough-guy attitude, Rocket cared. He just didn’t know how to say it.

And maybe that was enough.

send help

Y’all I wanna write but I’ve been having writers block 😭 I want some requests so badddd like it’s been so long since I’ve posted anything. I promise I’m still active but I genuinely don’t know what I should be writing about. I’ve been caught up in school so I haven’t had much time to watch or read anything new either 😔

so please pleaseeeee if y’all have any ideas, even unusual ones, send them in! I have no problem with it and in fact I highly encourage it! No judgement on my end, I swear.

OKAY IF YOU LIKE MAZE RUNNER PLS REBLOG THIS POST I JUST WANNA KNOW ABOUT MY FELLOW FANS

REBLOG THISSSS

In her shadow

Fred Weasley x reader

Angsty, but comfort from our lovely Fred

Summary: In the shadow of Cho Chang’s perfection, you find the fire to rise—and Fred Weasley lights the spark.

Story under the cut

The parchment was crumpled in your fist, the creases cutting deep as you glared at the words on the page.

Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding.

Charms: Exceeds Expectations.

Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations.

Potions: Acceptable.

Herbology: Acceptable.

Astronomy: Acceptable.

History of Magic: Poor.

It wasn’t a bad set of results—not really. But when you looked over at the Ravenclaw table, where Cho Chang was holding court like a queen on her throne, it felt like nothing.

“Perfect marks again!” someone gushed, loud enough to carry over the hall.

“Professor Flitwick said she’s the best he’s ever seen,” Marietta chirped, practically hanging off Cho’s arm.

And there she was, smiling so delicately, tilting her head just so, pretending to be modest while soaking up every ounce of attention. Perfect bloody Cho Chang.

Your teeth ground together as you shoved the parchment into your bag, shoulders tense with fury. It wasn’t just that she always came out on top. It wasn’t just her stupid perfect grades or the way she walked like the whole world owed her something. It was the rumors. The lies she’d spread about you last year—saying you were desperate, a pathetic little mess chasing after anyone who so much as looked your way. And people had believed her. They still did.

The laughter around her table grew louder, and it felt like every single word was aimed at you. You shoved back from your seat, ignoring the curious stares of your friends, and stormed out of the hall.

The briefing room for the Advanced Magical Research Programme should have been a chance to prove yourself, to rise above all of it. But the moment you stepped inside, you saw her—front and center, poised like she already had the spot locked down.

Your stomach sank. You froze for a moment, your hand tightening on the strap of your bag as rage bubbled up again. She didn’t even look your way, too busy laughing with a group of Ravenclaws. And Merlin help you, if she smirked even once, you might lose it.

You slumped into a chair at the very back of the room, as far from her as possible. Your jaw was tight, your fingers trembling with the sheer effort of holding yourself together.

“Alright,” came a familiar voice to your left, light and casual. “What’s all this, then?”

You didn’t need to look to know it was Fred Weasley.

“Fred,” you muttered, keeping your gaze locked on the table in front of you. “Not now.”

“Not now?” he repeated, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. “What’s wrong? Didn’t they have your favorite pudding at dinner?”

You shot him a glare. “I’m serious.”

Fred leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “Yeah, I can see that. You’ve got that whole I’m going to set something on fire look about you. What’s going on?”

You hesitated, but he followed your gaze to the front of the room. His face darkened when he spotted her.

“Chang,” he said, his voice low. “Say no more.”

You exhaled sharply, folding your arms tightly across your chest. “She’s perfect, Fred. Always. Top marks, favorite of the professors, and now she’s here, too. Why do I even bother?”

“Alright, stop right there,” he said, sitting up straighter and turning toward you fully. His voice lost its usual teasing edge, replaced with something firm, unyielding. “Do you honestly think you don’t deserve to be here?”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to answer.

“Look at me,” Fred said, his tone sharp enough to cut through your haze of anger. When you met his eyes, they were steady, unwavering. “You’re here because you earned it. You don’t need to compare yourself to her—or anyone else.”

“But she’s—”

“Annoying,” Fred interrupted. “And maybe a bit shiny in the way magpies like. But you? You’re a firecracker, and I’ve yet to meet anyone who could keep up with you when you’re not busy doubting yourself.”

You stared at him, caught off guard by his intensity.

“She doesn’t win because she’s better,” Fred continued, his voice softening slightly. “She wins because she’s louder. She makes sure everyone sees her. You don’t need that. You’ll blow her out of the water the moment you stop giving a damn about what she’s doing.”

You didn’t know what to say, but something in your chest eased. The knot of anger and jealousy loosened, just enough for you to breathe again.

“And if she so much as thinks about messing with you again,” Fred added with a wicked grin, “well, let’s just say George and I have a whole line of products that haven’t been properly tested yet.”

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it, and Fred’s grin widened.

“There she is,” he said, nudging your arm. “Now, keep your head up, yeah? Don’t let her get in your way. You’ve got this.”

The briefing ended not long after, and as you walked out of the room, Fred fell into step beside you.

“Let’s grab a Butterbeer,” he said, casually slinging an arm around your shoulders. “You’ve earned it.”

For the first time all day, you felt lighter. And as you glanced back at Cho, her head high and her smile as fake as ever, you felt something shift.

Let her have her moment. Let her think she’s untouchable.

Because the next time she tried to get in your way, you’d be ready. You’d tear that bitch off the pedestal so fast, she wouldn’t even see it coming.