Dr Pepper

🎶🤍✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (positivity is cool)🎶🤍✨

Home by Good neighbours

Youth by Shawn Mendes (ft. Khalid)

The monster by Eminem (ft. Rihanna)

Let her go by Passenger

Sex, drugs, etc. by Beach weather

And thank you 🥹

(one more thing, how do I send this ask to ten people— I’m sorry I’m still getting around to tumblr… do I just tag you in my post or?? Bcs like I’ve read though like 6 different asks for the same thing inception style and I still don’t know how to do it. I need a tutorial atp, this stressed me out more than I have to be)

So I’m just gonna tag y’all and pray that someone will teach me how to do this right:

@kitkat-moon

@h3arthese4

@ghostlyuniversityhandsthing

@peterhayesllove

@demonslikeme

@fclsebnnyodair

@im-a-whore-for-evan-peters

@xxx-ang3l-w1th-a-sh0tgun-xxx

@troyssix

@urfavfairyluvr

*Disclaimer, I don’t have too many followers, but to those I have, I love you all. I suppose it’s been a mistake on my part for not being interactive, but every follow, like and comment doesn’t go unnoticed. So I’ll try and make more friends on here (bear with me, this is not fun for an introvert) and I hope y’all could help…make the first move and reach out too. Because with exception of the first two that I’ve tagged, I haven’t spoken to anyone else and I really hope I can change that.

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.

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.

Hey 💌 I’m Saja — a mother trying to hold onto hope through days that feel impossibly heavy.

I know you probably see a lot online, but if you could take just a moment… I’d be so grateful.

💫 A reblog of my pinned post could help our story reach someone who cares.

🌿 And if you’re in a place to give, even a small donation could bring comfort to my daughter and help us feel safe again.

@sajagz, thank you for listening.

Even gentle support creates strength.

From one heart to another — thank you 🤍

^^

Outplayed

Stephen Strange x Spy!Reader

Fluff, flirting

Summary: A spy seduces Doctor Strange to steal crucial information and distract him for long enough to draw what she wants from him

Story under the cut

The dim light of the café cast long shadows across the wooden table where you sat, carefully stirring your coffee as you watched him from the corner of your eye. Doctor Stephen Strange. The Sorcerer Supreme. But here, in this low-key corner of the city, he wasn’t the all-powerful, stoic hero. Here, he was just a man, and you were here to take advantage of that.

Your mission was clear. He had information you needed, and you'd go to any length to get it.

"Mind if I join you?" His voice was calm, controlled—a stark contrast to the excitement thrumming beneath your skin. You didn’t even have to glance up to know that the air had shifted the moment he took a seat.

“No, not at all,” you said, offering a smile that you hoped was warm and welcoming, but you knew it came across as something else entirely—calculated, like you had an agenda. Which you did.

“Good,” he replied smoothly, taking a sip of his own drink. "I wasn’t sure if I was being followed."

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly, your eyes finally meeting his, and damn, there was that glint—sharp, almost knowing. "I’d say you’re paranoid, but you wouldn’t be wrong, would you?"

He arched an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair slightly, as though already analyzing you. Smart. You could see it in the way his fingers rested on the rim of his cup, in the way his eyes tracked every small movement you made. He was more aware than you’d like.

"Let me guess," he said, his voice low, tinged with amusement. "You're here to ask me questions."

You leaned in, careful to let your lips curve in a way that could either be interpreted as playful or dangerous. "It’s a bit more complicated than that," you purred, your voice a soft lull, an invitation he couldn’t resist. "I need something. Something I’m sure you’re just the man to provide."

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving yours. "Is that so?" he asked, his tone full of that subtle challenge you knew too well. “And what exactly is it that you think I can help you with?”

You didn’t flinch. No, you were too good at this. Too smooth. "You know exactly what I need," you said. "Information. A little bit of knowledge that only you have."

For the briefest moment, his expression flickered—a flicker of something unreadable—before it was gone, hidden behind a cool smile. “You seem awfully confident.”

You let that linger in the air, then allowed your own smile to bloom, teasing but still sharp. "Confidence has always been one of my strengths."

He laughed softly, but the sound was cold, like it wasn’t truly a laugh at all. More like a warning. "You don't think I know exactly what you're up to?" His eyes glinted as he leaned in a little, his voice dropping just a touch. “How long did it take before you realized I could see right through you?”

Your pulse quickened, but you didn’t let it show. “You don’t know a thing about me,” you countered, your voice low and deliberate.

He tilted his head, studying you with that calm, unnerving gaze. "I know enough."

It was like a game now, a cat-and-mouse dance you both played so well. You were too good at getting what you wanted, and he was just... too good, period. You could feel the tension tightening in the air, crackling between you, but you weren’t about to give up so easily. Not when you were so close.

Then, just as you leaned in slightly—just enough for him to feel the heat of your presence—you slid your hand across the table, brushing lightly against his. Not a hard touch, but deliberate, calculated. A little touch of intimacy meant to throw him off.

His breath hitched ever so slightly.

And there it was. The briefest of breaks in his usually steady composure. The smallest crack that you were quick to notice. That was all you needed.

"Careful, Doctor," you said softly, locking eyes with him as your fingers grazed the sleeve of his coat. “You’re getting distracted.”

He swallowed, eyes narrowing as he locked onto your face. For a second, the playful tension vanished, replaced by something deeper—something almost... predatory.

"You think you’ve got me figured out?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper, lips curling slightly at the corners.

You held his gaze, leaning in just a fraction more, testing him. "I think I’ve already won."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, challenge, and... acceptance. He wasn’t falling for the act. But at that moment, you were okay with that. Because while he’d been focused on you, your hand had already slipped his Sling Ring off his finger, carefully palming it like you had done this a hundred times before.

You straightened up, your expression softening just enough to be disarming. “Thanks for the chat, Stephen,” you said, standing up, giving him a coy smile.

“Wait—” He reached for you, but you were already turning, already walking out, Sling Ring safely hidden.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel his gaze on your back, that quiet realization creeping in that, for once, he'd been outplayed.

Live and Let die

Obi Wan Kenobi x Padawan!Reader

Angst and comfort

Summary: Finding solace in him through suffering.

Inspired by: Live and Let Die by Wings. (Yes, from Shrek)

Story under the cut:

The bruises from the mission hadn’t even begun to fade, yet the sting of failure burned far deeper than any wound. You replayed the scene in your head—the split-second hesitation, the wrong move that cost lives. It didn’t matter that your mistakes weren’t intentional. The weight of them crushed you all the same.

You were supposed to be better. Stronger. Wiser. But instead, you were here, curled up in the shadows of the Jedi Temple’s gardens, your hands trembling as you wiped furiously at the tears tracking down your face.

“I thought I might find you here,” Obi-Wan’s voice cut through the quiet like a gentle blade.

You stiffened, dragging your sleeve across your face as if you could erase the evidence of your breakdown. “I’m fine, Master,” you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

Obi-Wan didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he moved closer, lowering himself onto the stone bench beside you. The silence stretched, his presence steady but unyielding.

“You’re not fine,” he said at last, his tone soft but resolute.

That broke something in you. “Of course I’m not fine!” you snapped, your voice trembling with the force of your emotions. “I keep screwing up, Master. Over and over again. No matter how hard I try, I always let someone down.”

Your fists clenched on your knees, your nails digging into your palms as you stared at the ground. “Do you know what they said?” you whispered, voice cracking. “They said I hesitated. That if I hadn’t—if I’d just been faster, stronger—people wouldn’t have died. And they’re right. I keep failing, and I don’t even know how to stop.”

Obi-Wan’s brow furrowed, his expression shadowed with concern. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand on your shoulder. “Padawan,” he began carefully, “you’re carrying the weight of this entire mission on your shoulders. That’s a burden no one should bear alone.”

“I have to bear it,” you shot back, your voice rising. “If I don’t, who will? I’m supposed to be a Jedi, aren’t I? We’re supposed to protect people—keep them safe. But I keep failing. How can I call myself a Jedi when I can’t even do that?”

Your words hung in the air, raw and bitter. For a long moment, Obi-Wan said nothing. Then he spoke, his voice low and heavy with memory.

“There was a time,” he said slowly, “when I stood where you are now. When I thought every failure was a sign of my inadequacy, a mark of my weakness. I believed I had to be perfect. That anything less meant I wasn’t worthy of being a Jedi.”

You looked up at him then, startled by the vulnerability in his voice. His gaze was distant, as if he were seeing ghosts.

“But perfection,” he continued, “is an illusion. One that will destroy you if you let it. The galaxy is cruel, Padawan. You can do everything right, and still, it won’t be enough. You can’t save everyone. And that… is not your fault.”

Your chest tightened, his words both a comfort and a knife. “It feels like my fault,” you whispered.

Obi-Wan’s hand tightened gently on your shoulder, grounding you. “That is the burden of compassion,” he said. “We carry the weight of others’ pain because we care. But if you let it consume you, it will drown you. You must learn to let go—not of your care, but of the guilt that comes with it. We live. We let go. And we learn.”

Tears burned in your eyes, and you let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You can,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “Because I believe in you. Even when you doubt yourself, I will never doubt the strength I see in you. But that strength doesn’t mean never failing. It means standing back up, no matter how many times you fall.”

His words cracked something open in you, the floodgates breaking as the tears spilled freely. Obi-Wan didn’t move away. He stayed beside you, his presence a steady anchor as you let yourself feel the weight of your grief and frustration.

When the tears finally slowed, you turned to him, your voice hoarse. “What if I mess up again?”

“You will,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “We all do. But you’ll rise again. And when you do, you’ll be stronger for it.”

You nodded slowly, his words a lifeline you clung to. The weight on your chest wasn’t gone, but it was lighter now. Manageable.

“Thank you, Master,” you murmured.

Obi-Wan rose, offering you a hand. “Come now, Padawan. There’s much to do, and tomorrow is another chance to grow.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. And for the first time, you felt like you could keep going.

HARRY POTTER

angst : 🌩

fluff : 🌸

requests : 📩

This is a SFW blog, so no smut (because I'm not quite there yet)

SIRIUS BLACK (POST AZKABAN):

oneshots:

>> Here 🌩️ 🌸 (Synopsis: A chance encounter in Grimmauld Place leads Sirius Black and a former classmate to find solace in each other’s company.)

>> The Ghosts 🌩️ (Synopsis: Sirius gets haunted by the memory of his childhood)

REMUS LUPIN:

oneshots:

>> More than enough 🌩️ (synopsis: After a difficult visit with her parents, a struggling student at Hogwarts finds solace and comfort in Remus Lupin, who reminds her that she is more than enough just as she is.)

HARRY POTTER:

DRACO MALFOY:

oneshots:

>> Drowning 🌩️ (Synopsis: Sharing a moment with Draco over the misery of their families.)

>> Dance with me 🌸🌩️ (Synopsis: Two broken souls find solace in a quiet dance, their shared pain speaking louder than words ever could.)

RON WEASLEY:

oneshots: >> Finding Your Sky 🌸 (Synopsis: When Ron Weasley feels down about his studies and his fallout with Hermione, a quiet Gryffindor steps in to help him regain his confidence, leading to a renewed friendship.)

NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM:

oneshots:

>> Merlin. 🌸 (Synopsis: falling for the clumsy doofus)

CEDRIC DIGGORY:

SEVERUS SNAPE:

WEASLEY TWINS:

—> FRED WEASLEY:

>> In her shadow 🌸 🌩️ (Synopsis: In the shadow of Cho Chang’s perfection, you find the fire to rise—and Fred Weasley lights the spark.)

—> GEORGE WEASLEY:

>> Melody 🌸 (Synopsis: George helps you play piano)

The escape: Backup Plan

(Pt. I)

Janson (Maze Runner) x OC (Lauren)

Angst

summary: Lauren (OC) who’s a doctor in the facility tricks Janson with a decoy of the cure and makes a quick escape, hoping to stay ahead before he discovers the truth.

—————————————————————————————————-

Inspired by:

The sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway, distant but growing louder, as Lauren tightened the straps of her bag, her mind racing. The real cure—tucked safely in her hidden compartment—was still with her. But the decoy she’d left behind in the lab, the one Janson had taken, would buy her just enough time.

The only thing that mattered now was getting away before he realized.

She bolted down the narrow corridors, her breath steady but sharp, the pounding of her feet a steady rhythm in the sterile silence. Lauren wasn’t the same quiet, passive figure Janson thought she was. No. She’d learned to be smart, to adapt. To stay ahead.

As she rounded another corner, the cold bite of reality sank in. She only had moments before Janson would discover the truth. He would soon know that the cure he thought he’d stolen was useless—a placebo, a trick.

And when he did…

Suddenly, the corridor ahead felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in. She turned again, winding deeper into the facility, her heart racing but her mind sharp, every step purposeful. She knew where she was going. She knew the escape routes. She knew every blind spot in the surveillance.

The temporary vial wasn’t even worth what she carried.

A cold voice cut through her thoughts, sharp and unnerving. “Lauren.”

Her heart jumped. Janson.

He emerged from the shadows, his face a mask of calm fury. The temporary vial sat in his hand, his knuckles white around it. He was close enough to see, but far enough to not catch her—yet.

“I thought we had an understanding,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with menace. He stepped toward her, his eyes narrowed. “This—” he held up the vial, “—isn’t what I asked for.”

Lauren clenched her jaw, willing her pulse to slow down. She wouldn’t let him see her fear. Not now. Not when she had the upper hand.

“That’s the cure, Janson,” she lied smoothly, her eyes unwavering. “Everything you need is in there.”

Janson’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—doubt, suspicion. He stepped closer, his pace deliberate, each step calculated. “You really expect me to believe that?”

Lauren took a step back, her mind spinning. She couldn’t run yet—not until she was sure she could shake him. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag, the weight of the real cure pressing into her side, reminding her that she still had control.

For now.

Janson’s cold gaze flickered down to the bag, his voice growing colder. “I’m not stupid, Lauren. You think you can outplay me?”

Lauren’s chest tightened, but she kept her face neutral. “It’s all there,” she said, her voice firm, “but you’ll never understand how it works.”

Janson’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he studied her. He was testing her, weighing the truth of her words, but she was too good at this. She had to be.

“You’ve always been clever,” he said, taking another slow, deliberate step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. “But you’re making a mistake.”

Lauren didn’t move. “You already have what you want. Walk away.”

Janson’s eyes narrowed, and the tension between them thickened like a coiled wire about to snap. His fingers twitched at his side, as though ready to grab her, to pull the truth from her by force if he had to.

But he didn’t know. He didn’t know that the real cure wasn’t in his hands. And she wasn’t about to tell him.

The silence stretched between them, charged with unspoken threats and barely-contained fury. Lauren’s muscles tensed, ready to move at the first sign of weakness.

And then Janson’s lips curled into a thin smile—cold, calculating.

“You’ve always been good at hiding things,” he murmured, stepping so close now that she could feel the heat of his breath on her skin. “But you can’t run forever.”

Lauren’s pulse spiked. She knew what was coming.

She made her move.

Without warning, Lauren spun on her heel and bolted, her feet flying down the corridor before Janson could react. She heard him curse behind her, his footsteps thundering after her, but she was faster. Smarter.

She raced through the labyrinth of hallways, her mind laser-focused on her exit strategy. She had a backup route. A plan. One he didn’t know about.

Janson’s footsteps grew louder behind her, his anger palpable in the air. He was close—too close—but she wasn’t going to let him catch her. Not this time.

Lauren veered to the right, darting down a side passage that led deeper into the facility. She could hear his frustrated growl, the sound of him picking up speed, his determination bleeding into every footfall.

She turned another corner, her eyes scanning for the emergency exit she knew was just ahead. If she could just reach it, she’d be free. She’d be safe.

But then—

The mechanical sound of a gun being cocked stopped her, the barrel stopping mere millimeters from her skull. She gasped, stumbling as Janson cornered her into the wall, his eyes blazing with fury.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Lauren panicked, her breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. She could feel the vial pressing against her side, the real cure, still safely hidden. He didn’t know.

He couldn’t know.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she spat, her voice defiant despite the fear gnawing at her insides.

Janson grabbed her, tightening his grip with his face inches from hers, the anger rolling off him in waves. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” he hissed. “You think you can outsmart me?”

Lauren glared up at him, refusing to back down. “You won’t get it. No matter what you do.”

For a moment, Janson didn’t move. His eyes bore into hers, cold and calculating, as though he was weighing his options.

Then, without warning, he slammed his hand against the wall beside her, caging her in. His other hand reached for her bag, ripping it from her shoulder in one swift motion.

He rifled through it, his movements rough, angry—until he found the vial.

For a split second, Lauren’s heart froze. But she didn’t falter. She knew what he had in his hands.

Janson held it up, his eyes narrowing as he studied it. “This is it, then?” he said, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Lauren swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep calm. “That’s the cure,” she said, her voice steady. “The only one.”

Janson’s gaze flicked back to her, suspicion flashing across his face. But then, slowly, a twisted smile spread across his lips.

“I don’t believe you.”

In that moment, Lauren knew she had him. She’d planted the seed of doubt, and now it was taking root. He didn’t know what to believe. And that was her advantage.

Janson pocketed the vial, his grip still tight on her arm, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of a lie. But Lauren was too good at this. She had to be.

“You’ll regret this,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “One way or another.”

And with that, he released her, stepping back as if daring her to make her next move.

Lauren didn’t hesitate. She turned and ran, her heart pounding in her chest as she made her way toward the real exit, the one he didn’t know about.

The real cure was still safely hidden, and now, she had the upper hand.

For now.

𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

started: 18/10/24

Marvel

Maze Runner

Hunger Games

Harry Potter

Note: I write for PostAzkaban!Sirius Black and Professor!Remus Lupin (not in the marauders era, because there just aren’t enough people who write about the older men)

Fantastic Beasts

Star Wars

Top Gun

Divergent

Disney/Pixar (animations)

Other movies

(will be consistently monitored and updated, hang tight)

New Years

Encanto x reader

fluff, comfort

Summary: On a lonely New Year’s Eve, the Madrigals bring warmth and joy, but it’s Camilo’s heartfelt care that makes her truly believe in love again.

AN: Happy new year, happy holidays! Also, this is sappy. Be warned... but I'll make sappy any time I need it, and I needed it-- so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing this.

story under the cut

The night air was crisp, a perfect blend of cool breeze and the lingering warmth of the day. From your perch on the balcony, the world below sparkled with the chaos of New Year’s Eve celebrations. In the Encanto, every home glowed with lights and laughter, the air heavy with the scent of roasted arepas and sweet empanadas. The Madrigals’ Casita, as always, stood out like a beacon of magic and life, bursting with energy. Yet here you were, leaning on the cold wrought-iron railing, a quiet observer in a sea of joy.

From your vantage point, you could see families giggling as they ducked under tables to eat their twelve grapes, one for each wish. Couples leaned into each other, their faces lit by the promise of midnight fireworks. And you? You were alone. No grapes, no kisses, just the sharp sting of solitude wrapped in a world full of celebration.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, the sound quickly carried away by the distant hum of music and chatter. It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for them—the Madrigals, the villagers, everyone—but it was hard not to feel the weight of loneliness pressing on your chest. You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, wishing, just for a moment, that someone would notice the quiet shadow you cast.

And then, like magic—or perhaps because it was the Encanto—they did.

“What are you doing out here, all by yourself?” Mirabel’s voice rang out, soft yet inquisitive, as she leaned against the balcony doorframe. Her round glasses glinted in the dim light, and her wide smile carried an infectious warmth.

You turned, startled, only to see her stepping closer, holding out a small cup of warm chocolate. “You can’t spend New Year’s like this,” she said gently. “Come on, at least have some hot chocolate with me.”

A bit later, Luisa found you sitting by yourself in a quiet corner of the Casita. She didn’t say much—she didn’t need to. Instead, she handed you a heavy woolen blanket, freshly warmed from the hearth, and sat nearby, her calm presence a silent reassurance that you weren’t alone.

Isabela, ever the perfectionist, passed by next, pausing to tuck a newly conjured flower into your hair. “There,” she said with a soft smile. “You’re part of the party now.” Her graceful departure left the faint scent of jasmine in the air, a little gift that lingered with you.

Later, Antonio bounded over, his arms wrapped around a cheerful toucan that squawked happily in your direction. “The animals said you looked sad,” he said with wide-eyed sincerity. “But you don’t have to be! They like you.” He placed the toucan on your shoulder, and for a moment, the bird’s antics pulled a genuine laugh from your lips.

Pepa’s voice carried through the bustling crowd as she handed you a small plate of twelve grapes. “Eat them,” she insisted, her eyes kind but firm. “One for every wish. And don’t forget to make them count!”

Julieta’s warmth came last but not least, as she gently pressed an arepa into your hands. “Food makes everything better,” she said, her tone motherly and soothing. “You’ll see.”

By the time Camilo arrived, the night was already alight with fireworks, laughter, and cheer. He had just rushed back from the village after a long day of work, his usual playful smirk replaced by a look of earnest concern. He found you leaning against a pillar near the edge of the balcony, the glow of fireworks reflecting in your eyes.

“There you are,” he said, slightly breathless but with a relieved grin. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You blinked, startled by his sudden arrival. “Camilo? Shouldn’t you be out enjoying the party?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “The party doesn’t matter if you’re not enjoying it too.” Without waiting for a reply, he draped his ruana over your shoulders, the warmth of it immediately chasing away the chill in the air. “You’ve spent enough of tonight alone.”

His presence was magnetic, pulling you out of your shell without effort. He began to talk about the funny things he’d seen in the village, mimicking people’s voices and gestures until you were laughing so hard your sides hurt. When he saw you relax, he leaned against the railing next to you, his tone softening.

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “you mean a lot to us. To me.” He glanced at you, his eyes earnest. “I didn’t want the year to end without making sure you knew that.”

The weight of his words settled over you, warm and comforting. He reached out, his hand covering yours as the fireworks reached their peak, painting the sky in brilliant colors. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the distant cheers. “For everything.”

Camilo smiled, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “You’ll never have to feel alone, not as long as I’m around.”

As the clock struck twelve, you felt a peace you hadn’t known in a long time. Surrounded by the Madrigals’ love and Camilo’s unwavering presence, you knew this New Year’s would be the start of something beautiful.