More Than Enough

Tides of Change

Māui-tikitiki-a-Taranga x Reader

fluff, betrayal

Request by @whiteeaglestudent : do you think you could write a Moana 2 oneshot with a Maui x Female Nalo's Eel Minion Reader, where Y/n is one of Nalo's eel minions that guards the island of Motufetu, but she isn't evil like the other eels and can change into a human form but others are still slightly afraid of her, and when she meets Maui during his and Moana's journey, she decides to change her ways and turn good just to love Maui?

Summary: A reluctant guardian of Motufetu betrays her kin to save Maui and Moana, discovering courage and unexpected warmth in the process.

Story under the cut

I watched them from the depths, my sleek form slipping between jagged rocks as their canoe cut through the mist. They were too loud—laughing, bantering, utterly unaware of what they were sailing into. Mortals were always so cocky, so stupid. But the figure at the helm… something about him made me pause.

“Who does this guy think he is?” I muttered to myself, my voice rippling through the water like a growl. His stupid, smug grin and the way he flexed his muscles as if he were some kind of hero.

Wait.

I blinked, swimming closer for a better look. The light on the canoe shifted, and my stomach flipped. Oh no.

“Maui,” I hissed. The demigod of the wind and sea. Nalo had warned us about him.

Panic surged through me. If I didn’t act now, they’d reach Motufetu, and Nalo wouldn’t care that I’d been watching instead of attacking.

I surged upward, transforming mid-leap. My tail became legs, my scales shifted to skin, and I landed on the edge of their canoe with a splash.

“Turn back,” I growled, water dripping from my hair as I crouched like a predator. “Now.”

The girl—Moana—yelled and scrambled for an oar. But Maui? He just blinked at me, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Well, hello there,” he said, leaning on his hook like he wasn’t facing an ocean’s worth of trouble. “Didn’t realize we’d be picking up passengers.”

“I’m not your passenger,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes. “You’re trespassing.”

“Technically,” Maui said, scratching his chin, “we’re sailing. Different thing.”

“I could drag you both to the depths right now,” I threatened, baring my teeth.

Moana jabbed her oar in my direction. “I’d like to see you try!”

Maui waved her off, still grinning at me like I was some kind of joke. “Relax, Curly. She’s just doing her job, right?” He winked at me. “Big, scary eel thing. Super intimidating.”

My face burned. Intimidating?! He was mocking me! “You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” I snapped.

“Oh, I think I do,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re one of Nalo’s little minions, aren’t you?”

“I’m not little,” I shot back before I could stop myself.

Maui raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

I should’ve shoved him into the water right then and there. But something about the way he looked at me—like I wasn’t a threat, like he saw right through me—made my resolve falter.

“Look,” I said, straightening up. “You need to leave. Motufetu isn’t safe for you.”

“Gee, thanks for the warning,” Maui said, smirking. “But we’re good. Demigod here, remember?” He flexed an arm unnecessarily, and I had to bite back a scoff.

“You’re an idiot,” I muttered.

“Yeah, but you’re still talking to me,” he shot back, his grin widening.

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t understand it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to scare them off, drag them under if I had to, but instead…

“Wait,” Moana said suddenly, frowning at me. “If you’re one of Nalo’s minions, why haven’t you attacked us yet?”

I stiffened. “I—”

“Good question,” Maui said, stepping closer. “What’s the holdup? Not feeling it today?”

“I’m giving you a chance to leave,” I snapped, turning my glare on him. “Take it before I change my mind.”

But he just kept smiling. “Sure. You’re totally terrifying me right now.”

I clenched my fists, my mind spinning. I should’ve just thrown him overboard. Instead, I found myself hesitating, my gaze lingering on the way his stupid hair caught the moonlight.

“Listen,” Maui said, his tone softening. “Whatever Nalo’s got on you? It doesn’t have to be like this.”

I laughed, but it came out bitter. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Maybe not,” he said, shrugging. “But I know you’re stalling.”

The words hit harder than I expected. He wasn’t wrong.

I looked away, my resolve crumbling. If I let them go, Nalo would know. The others would come for me. But when Maui’s hand brushed against mine, warm and steady, something shifted.

“You don’t owe him anything,” he said quietly.

For a moment, the world was still. His touch sent a strange warmth through me, cutting through the cold I’d carried for so long.

“I—” I began, but a distant rumble cut me off.

The waters churned, and I knew the others were coming.

“Go,” I said, stepping back. “Now.”

“What about you?” Maui asked, his brow furrowing.

“I’ll handle it,” I said firmly. “Just… don’t stop rowing.”

He hesitated, but Moana grabbed the oar. “Come on, Maui!”

I stalled them as long as I could. The other eels—my kin, my tormentors—swirled around me in the dark waters, their hissing voices filled with betrayal.

“Traitor,” one spat, circling closer.

“You dare betray Nalo?” snarled another.

I kept my movements quick and deliberate, dodging their lunges and leading them in chaotic loops away from the canoe. Every second I bought was a second they needed to escape.

The fog thickened, the dark sea churning around us, and finally, I saw my moment. With a sharp kick of my legs, I shot upward and broke through the surface, gasping for air as I clambered onto the canoe.

Maui and Moana whipped around, both startled by the sudden splash.

“What the—!” Moana exclaimed, reaching for the oar like it was a weapon.

I collapsed against the side of the boat, panting, water streaming off my trembling form. “They’re… they’re distracted,” I managed, barely able to speak. “But you need to move. Now.”

Maui crouched beside me, his face uncharacteristically serious. “You okay?” he asked, his voice softer than I expected.

“I’m fine,” I lied, pushing myself upright. My legs burned, and my lungs ached from the effort, but I wasn’t about to admit it. “Just focus on the sea ahead. There are currents here that will tear this boat apart if you don’t steer properly.”

Moana frowned, still gripping the oar. “What currents?”

“The kind that’ll drag you down faster than you can scream,” I said bluntly, pointing toward a jagged rock formation barely visible through the mist. “You need to steer between those rocks and the smaller ones behind them. Trust me.”

Maui stood, his gaze flicking between me and the treacherous waters. “You seem to know a lot about these currents, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s almost like I’ve lived here my entire life,” I shot back, rolling my eyes.

He grinned at that, his usual cocky demeanor slipping back into place. “Fair enough, Legs.”

I sighed, sitting back as they worked to navigate the canoe. Moana steered with precision, her movements quick and focused. Maui, for once, didn’t crack a single joke, his eyes scanning the water like a hawk.

As the boat slipped through the final set of rocks, the mist began to clear. The sea ahead stretched out, calm and endless, the danger of Motufetu fading behind us.

Only then did I allow myself to relax, leaning against the edge of the boat.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Moana said, glancing at me.

I shrugged. “Guess I’m just full of bad decisions today.”

“Bad decisions, huh?” Maui’s voice was playful, but when I looked up, his expression wasn’t. His gaze held something else—something softer, more appreciative. “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

My breath caught, and I felt a blush rise to my cheeks. “Don’t get used to it,” I muttered, looking away too quickly.

“Too late,” he teased, but there was warmth in his voice.

The air between us felt heavier, charged with something unspoken, until Moana cleared her throat loudly.

“So,” she said, glancing between us, “are we just gonna ignore the whole ‘betraying Nalo and almost dying’ thing, or…?”

I laughed, though it came out a bit shakier than I intended. “Yeah, let’s just focus on not dying for now.”

Maui’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, and I could feel it even without looking. When I finally dared to glance at him, his smirk was back, but his eyes still held that softness.

I quickly turned my attention to the sea, trying to calm the warmth spreading through me. Stupid demigod.

But as the canoe drifted further from the island, I couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at my lips. Maybe, just maybe, I’d made the right choice after all.

Writing Description Notes:

Updated 9th September 2024 More writing tips, review tips & writing description notes

Facial Expressions

Masking Emotions

Smiles/Smirks/Grins

Eye Contact/Eye Movements

Blushing

Voice/Tone

Body Language/Idle Movement

Thoughts/Thinking/Focusing/Distracted

Silence

Memories

Happy/Content/Comforted

Love/Romance

Sadness/Crying/Hurt

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Christmas at The Burrow

Harry, Hermione, the Weasleys, Sirius, Remus (and all the other good characters) X Reader

Fluff

Summary: A bad day melts into laughter, love, and chaos at the Weasley’s on Christmas.

AN: Merry Christmas and a happy new year ya filthy animals!

story under the cut

The Burrow, as usual, was glowing with warm light and the sound of clattering dishes, laughter, and chatter spilling out even before you reached the door. You hesitated, your earlier frustrations from the day clinging to you like a stubborn shadow. But before you could even raise a hand to knock, the door burst open, and Fred’s grinning face appeared.

“There she is!” he crowed, pulling you inside as George popped up behind him.

“Late as always,” George said, shaking his head dramatically. “It’s a wonder you ever make it anywhere at all.”

“Oh, leave her alone,” Ginny said, sidling up to you and taking your coat. “Come on, sit down, get comfy. Mum’s been waiting to stuff you full of food all day.”

“I have not! I’ve just made a bit of stew and treacle tart, that’s all,” Molly called from the kitchen, where she was stirring something that smelled divine.

“Stew? Treacle tart?!” Ron perked up from the table, where he was already halfway through a biscuit.

“Save some for the rest of us, Ron,” Hermione scolded, though her soft smile was already directed at you. “Come on, sit with us. You look like you need a good laugh.”

Harry leaned forward from his seat, glasses slightly askew. “We’ve been plotting how to cheer you up all day,” he said, grinning. “And we’re excellent at it, if I do say so myself.”

“We are excellent,” Fred corrected. “Harry’s role in the operation is just sitting there looking tragic.”

“Oi!” Harry protested, though he was laughing too.

“Enough of this nonsense,” Sirius’s deep voice boomed from the armchair near the fire. He stood, a cheeky grin plastered across his face, and made his way to you. “Come here, kid.”

Before you could say anything, Sirius pulled you into a firm, fatherly hug, holding you close like he’d known you needed it. “You’re with us now,” he murmured into your hair. “No bad moods allowed. Got it?”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“That’s better.” He pulled back but kept an arm slung over your shoulder. “Now, sit. Eat. We’ve got plans, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

The plans turned out to be a mix of dinner, chaos, and ultimately, a movie night. After Molly served up her famous stew (with Neville nervously asking for seconds, clearly trying not to look greedy) and Fred managed to accidentally charm a bread roll to scream when bitten into, Ginny declared, “Alright, enough. It’s movie time.”

“Movie?” Luna’s dreamy voice piped up. “Oh, I do love Muggle contraptions.”

“Tonight’s feature: Home Alone 2: Lost in New York,” Hermione announced, holding up the DVD case like it was a sacred text.

“What’s it about?” Fleur asked, her lilting accent drawing curious looks from Cedric and Neville, who were already settling on the couch.

“Traps, chaos, and Christmas,” Harry explained simply, grabbing a bowl of popcorn and flopping onto the sofa next to Ron.

Soon, everyone was crammed into the Weasleys’ cozy living room. Sirius, with his arm draped around your shoulders like a comforting anchor, pulled you close.

The movie started, and it didn’t take long for the chaos to spread.

“Oh, that’s brilliant!” Fred said, pointing as Kevin tricked the hotel staff with his recorded messages.

“Can you imagine using that on Filch?” George added, cackling.

“Forget Filch,” Ron said, mouth full of popcorn. “I’d use it on Snape.”

“That’s awful!” Hermione scolded, though she was laughing along with everyone else.

“Well I know I’d pay to see it,” Remus mused, chuckling at the thought.

When Kevin’s elaborate traps started, Ginny groaned. “Imagine the cleanup after that. No thanks.”

“Cleanup?!” Sirius roared with laughter. “Ginny, it’s art! Pure, chaotic genius!”

“Poor burglars,” Luna mused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “They really should’ve worn helmets.”

As the Wet Bandits stumbled through the traps, Cedric winced every time something crashed or cracked. “That’s gotta hurt,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“You’d think they’d give up after the first house,” Neville added.

“But where’s the fun in that?” Harry said, grinning.

By the time the credits rolled, the room was filled with laughter and leftover popcorn scattered across every available surface. Sirius ruffled your hair affectionately. “Feeling better, kid?”

You nodded, smiling for what felt like the first time all day. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Remus said from his spot by the fire, where he’d been quietly sipping tea and chuckling at the madness. “Because around here, happiness is non-negotiable.”

As you were pulled into a group hug orchestrated by Fred and George (complete with Ginny trying to shove Ron’s popcorn bowl out of the way), you realized that no matter how tough the day had been, you had a family here—a wonderfully loud, chaotic, loving family who could make you laugh until your sides hurt.

“Merry Christmas and a happy new year ya filthy animals!”

And as Fred squeezed your shoulder one last time before heading to the kitchen for a second helping of treacle tart, you couldn’t help but feel like everything was going to be alright.

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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.

Hi there,

I’m reaching out with a quiet hope in my heart. These days are heavy, and my family is living through a reality filled with uncertainty—but I’m still here, doing my best to hold on and keep going.

If you have a moment, please check out my pinned post.

A simple share could help it reach someone who might be able to make a difference.

If you’re able to give, even the smallest kindness can bring light into the darkest places.

Your time, your voice, your compassion — it all matters more than you know.

With deep gratitude,

@nadinfamily

^^

Sending prayers. I know some of you may be tired of seeing these posts but honestly, they are recurring for a REASON. They need help.

So if you can, donate. If not, spread the word.

DISNEY/ PIXAR (ANIMATIONS)

angst : 🌩

fluff : 🌸

requests : 📩

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

Encanto:

—> Camilo Madrigal:

Oneshots:

>> Home 🌸 (Synopsis: Camilo finds peace and belonging with you, and as the two of you share a quiet evening together, he realizes that home is not a place, but the person by his side.)

>> New Years 🌸 (Synopsis: 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.)

Moana (2):

—> Maui:

Oneshots:

>> Tides of Change 📩 🌸 (Synopsis: A reluctant guardian of Motufetu betrays her kin to save Maui and Moana, discovering courage and unexpected warmth in the process.)

>> Tides of Tension 🌩 🌸 (Synopsis: As Maui, Moana, and a reluctant eel guardian journey together, an unexpected bond forms… but jealousy and unspoken feelings threaten to tear them apart.)

Hello, could I make a oneshot request?

of course! My inbox is open, so please do give me your suggestions and requests 🥰

Well, shuck.

Maze Runner Minho x Runner!OC (Lauren)

Angst, fluff

Summary: Minho and Lauren get trapped in the Maze overnight. With no way out and no clear path to safety, they keep their spirits up with jokes and sarcasm, finding comfort in each other.

AN: You’re not alone.

“You really know how to pick the best nights to get us stuck, huh?” Lauren muttered, hands on her hips as she stared at the towering walls of the Maze that had just sealed them in.

Minho grinned, crouching to catch his breath, the night air cool against his sweat-soaked skin. "Well, if you weren’t so slow, we’d be sipping Gally’s special brew by now."

Lauren shot him a glare, swatting his shoulder. “Me? Slow? I saved your slinthead back there when you almost got Griever-pie’d.”

He shrugged, smirking. “Almost.”

They leaned against the cold stone walls, their banter not doing much to change the fact that they were well and truly stuck. Night had fallen, the Maze silent but menacing, the darkness thick and unnerving. The Grievers hadn’t shown up yet, but both of them knew they’d be out soon enough. It was only a matter of time.

“Think we’ll survive this one?” Lauren asked, her voice quieter now, tinged with a nervous edge.

Minho looked over at her, and despite his bravado, he softened. “We always do, don’t we?”

She chuckled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, but it feels different this time. Like we really might not make it back.”

Minho didn’t respond right away, instead pulling off his jacket and laying it down on the cold ground. “Well, if we’re going out, might as well be comfortable, right?”

Lauren followed his lead, sitting beside him, their backs pressed against the unforgiving stone. “I’m gonna miss this, you know? Running through this giant death trap with you.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “No better runner I’d rather be stuck with.” He looked at her then, something serious in his eyes, but before the moment could turn too deep, he added, “Even if you smell worse than a Griever sometimes.”

She shoved him with a grin. “Yeah, well, you snore like a herd of ‘em.”

They both laughed, the sound hollow and almost strange in the empty Maze. The laughter faded, though, and they sat in silence for a while, the tension hanging in the air.

“I’m serious though,” Lauren said softly. “If this is it… I’m glad it’s with you.”

Minho shifted uncomfortably, unused to moments like this. “Hey, we’re not dying tonight,” he said, trying to keep it light. “We’ve got too much running left to do.”

Lauren smiled, her eyes heavy now as exhaustion from the day’s run finally caught up to her. “I’ll hold you to that, Minho.”

They didn’t say much after that, their backs still pressed against the stone, the Maze shifting occasionally in the distance, the sound of moving walls echoing in the night. Lauren's head eventually lolled to the side, resting on Minho’s shoulder as they both drifted off into an uneasy sleep, lulled by the idea that if the end came, at least they wouldn’t face it alone.

Morning came with an odd stillness. The sounds of the Maze were different—quieter somehow, the usual mechanical groaning replaced by silence. Minho stirred first, blinking groggily at the sunlight streaming down through the Maze’s walls. He nudged Lauren.

“Hey, wake up.”

She groaned, rubbing her eyes. “We’re still alive?”

Minho frowned, standing up to look around. “I think… I think the Maze shifted.”

Lauren scrambled to her feet beside him, and they both stared in shock. The walls, which had sealed them in last night, had shifted perfectly. Not just enough to give them a way forward—but a straight path back to the Glade.

“Holy shuck,” Lauren breathed, her eyes wide.

Minho just shook his head, grinning. “Guess the Maze likes us after all.”

They didn’t wait for a second invitation, taking off down the path, their legs still aching from the previous day’s run but fueled by the adrenaline of survival. The towering walls soon gave way to the familiar clearing of the Glade, and as they stumbled out into the open space, they were met with gasps and cheers.

“Minho! Lauren!” Thomas shouted, sprinting over, followed by the rest of the Gladers, engulfing them in a whirlwind of hugs and claps on the back.

“You guys made it!” Newt grinned, ruffling Lauren’s hair.

“Like there was any doubt,” Minho said, though his cocky grin was tired, his eyes betraying the relief he felt.

As the Gladers pulled back, giving them space, Lauren turned to Minho. She gave him a sly smile before suddenly wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. “I told you we’d make it.”

Minho stiffened, glancing around at the gawking Gladers. “Okay, okay, don’t get all mushy on me now.” He awkwardly patted her back, but there was a warmth in his voice that made it clear he didn’t really mind.

Lauren pulled back, smirking. “Tough guy act still going strong, huh?”

Minho just shrugged. “Can’t ruin my rep.”

But as they stood there, alive and surrounded by their friends, there was no denying the truth: whatever else the Maze threw at them, they'd face it together.