HOUSE OF MIRRORS (PART TWO)

HOUSE OF MIRRORS (PART TWO)

PART ONE, PART TWO, PART THREE

pairing: rowan laslow x fem!reader warnings: once again we have knives, fighting, two people literally trying to unalive each other (enemies to lovers things), fear, at one point someone tries to unalive themselves (please do not read if you are sensitive to that kind of thing), gratuitous sexual tension, possibly ooc rowan? (i've only seen a couple episodes of wednesday)

summary: y/n and rowan have been trying to kill each other since the day they met. on this particular day, rowan finally meets the other guy who's trying to kill her. note: OH MY GOD IT'S PART TWO GUYS. Part one did so unexpectedly well so I decided to sit down and plan some stuff for part two. Theoretically I could write a whole "limited series" type deal on this with an arc and an OC and a plot n all that but I'm not 100% sure I have all the motivation necessary for that haha. Plus I have like two other WIPS going right now, one of which I desperately need to update and the other I need to plan. But anyway! Here's this! Enjoy! word count: 3693

Being at Nevermore was becoming more and more like a lethal game of hide and seek. She'd go about her day as normal, talk to the people in her classes, participate in demonstrations, and then she'd almost be killed by a flying knife as she headed back to her dorm. If there was one good thing she could say about Rowan, it was that he was persistent.

As Y/n walked through the halls of Nevermore that day, she was attempting to untangle her destiny — why was she the one destined to end the world? She wasn't anything special, really. So she could do a couple things that Normies couldn't, but that was the entire population of Nevermore! No one there was strictly normal, so why couldn't the universe have picked another person to take the weight of destruction?

While she ruminated, she felt a pair of eyes on her. She knew that familiar chill of the spine. So she looked up and found exactly who she was expecting: Rowan. They were in a crowded hallway, so there wasn't much he could do in the way of killing her. She liked to smile at him in situations like this, just to confuse him, but something stopped her before she could muster up a grin. Behind Rowan stood a tall, shadowy figure, stretching nearly eight feet tall. It was vaguely human in stature but made entirely of inky black shadow. At the sight of it, Y/n's blood went cold. It had found her. Without so much as a blink, she turned and sprinted down the hallway, nausea creeping up her throat.

As she turned around to see if the figure was following her, she ran into someone hard, sending them both to the ground. She groaned, scrambling for her books. "Sorry," she muttered as she stacked them back in her arms.

The person she had knocked over was Xavier Thorpe, Rowan's roommate. Y/n hurriedly held out a hand to help him up, glancing behind herself every few moments. "No problem," Xavier said as he stood up. He noticed the frantic look in her eyes and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Y/n responded quickly. Too quickly. "Look, um, if Thornhill asks where I am next class, can you tell her that I went to the Infirmary? I'm not feeling well."

Xavier was confused, but he nodded anyway. "Sure."

"Thanks." Y/n said, immediately walking around him and continuing her fast pace down the hallway. Xavier watched her go, still perplexed by her hastiness to get away.

He passed by Rowan in the hallway and noticed that he too was looking after Y/n, his brows twisted up in confusion. "What's up with her?" Xavier asked.

Rowan just shook his head. "No idea."

Y/n had barricaded herself in her dorm room, now glad that she had one all to herself (her last dorm mate had dropped out after one of the carnivorous plants in the greenhouse had nearly taken off her pinky finger). Y/n first took the small pendant off from around her neck and opened the locket to reveal a small mirror no bigger than a slightly above average grape. "Keep a lookout, okay?" she muttered to the mirror. She placed the pendant just inside her door and set to work.

She opened the closet and dragged out her prized possession: an ornate mirror taller than herself, handed down from her grandmother. In the L/n family, all females were given the powers of vitrikinesis, or mirror manipulation. At least most females. Her mother had inherited some sort of mutation that gave her a different kind of power.

The pendant had been passed down for generations, beginning with her great-great-great-great grandmother Alethea, whose soul had been trapped in that one small mirror. She acted as a guardian of sorts for the wearer, which came in handy in any conflict where Y/n mother was involved.

She traced the ornate detailing of the mirror with her finger, then stepped back and closed her eyes, drawing in a breath. When she opened them again, duplicate mirrors lined the walls of her dorm, stretching all the way to the ceiling. Speaking of...

Y/n stood on her bed, stretching her hand as high above her head as she could get it. The moment her fingertips touched the plaster ceiling above her, its entire surface became reflective, and soon enough she could see herself in its image. She jumped down from the bed and was about to begin arming herself, but the pendant suddenly flew from the door into her hands, and a voice reverberated in her head: Someone is coming.

Y/n didn't waste another second before approaching the nearest mirror and stepping inside of it. Immediately she was engulfed in a mirror version of her own room, allowing her to see out but not to be followed or seen by anyone who chose to walk in. Except shadows. The shadows could always see.

Y/n looked down at the small pendant in her hand. "Show me who it is." she whispered. The mirror changed from showing her own face to showing her who stood just outside her door. There was a knock then, and Y/n saw in the mirror hazel eyes behind a pair of glasses. Shit.

She stepped out of the mirrored room. "Go away, Rowan!" she shouted.

"Relax, I'm not here to kill you." he replied.

Y/n scoffed under her breath. "That would be a first." she muttered. Suddenly the pendant rattled in her hand and the voice of Alethea came back: It's coming. You need to hurry.

"This isn't a good time!" Y/n shouted, ready to jump back in the mirror. Alethea's voice came back: It'll kill him too.

Y/n sighed, whispering to the pendant. "Would that really be the worst thing?"

Alethea said nothing back, but that was response enough. Y/n groaned, rolling her eyes. "You are so passive aggressive." she hissed, slipping the pendant back around her neck.

Y/n ran to the door and flung it open to Rowan standing there. Without so much as a hello, she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, sticking her head out the door frame to scan the hallway.

"Y/n?"

"Shut up." she hissed. A cold shudder went down her back and she looked to her right. A black shadow was forming at the opposite end of the hallway. She slammed the door behind her and grabbed Rowan by the arm again. "I don't have time to explain, but we're both in danger. Well, I was in danger, but since you decided to show up unannounced, you are also now in danger — so if you die, I will not be taking the blame." she stopped them in front of one of the many mirrors. "Get in."

Rowan looked at her like she had actually gone insane — which, for the record, he hadn't totally ruled out yet. When he hesitated, Y/n groaned and pushed him as hard as she could. Rowan braced himself to hit the mirror, but instead he fell right through and landed on solid ground. When he opened his eyes he saw the mirrored version of the dorm. "What the hell?" he muttered.

Y/n stepped through the mirror just as Alethea's voice came back: It's here.

Rowan looked up at her. "What's going on?"

Y/n said nothing, shaking her head and pulling him back up to stand. When he tried to protest, she slammed a hand over his mouth and backed him to the wall in between mirrors. All at once, the temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees. It had come in.

As Y/n stood with her hand clamped over Rowan's mouth, he saw something he had never seen in her: fear. True, unadulterated terror. There was a low growl from the other side and her eyes squeezed shut, lips pursed as though she was afraid she might accidentally scream. He noticed she was shaking from head to toe.

In the corner of her eye she saw the Shadow as it slowly walked about the room, looking for her. If it chose to step through the mirror, they'd be dead in seconds. She couldn't protect Rowan at that point. Protect Rowan. That was an odd thing for her.

Y/n's knee began to shake so violently that her heel rattled against the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n saw the Shadow turn its head. She sucked in a breath, terrified tears forming in her eyes. She had taken her hand away from Rowan's mouth and now pressed herself against him, trying to take up as little space as possible to prevent them from being seen. Rowan was still too confused to really notice as she buried her head in his shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut again to stop herself from crying.

When the Shadow left her line of sight, she looked back up, looking around carefully before fixing her eyes on Rowan. "Stay here," she mouthed to him. After another careful glance in the mirror beside her, she stepped back until she was in the center of the room. Now it knew she was here. "Contritus." she said aloud.

At once, every mirror in the room shattered. Rowan flinched as pieces of glass fell at his feet and all around the room. He looked up to see Y/n holding the pendant she always wore, her brows knit together in terror. "Is it stuck, Alethea?"

He didn't hear a response, but Y/n soon nodded as though she had. "Good." she said. She looked back at Rowan, her cool demeanor slowly returning. "Congratulations, Rowan. You were almost just killed by Shadow, my mother's henchman."

"That thing works for your mother?" he asked, bewildered.

"You're not the only one trying to kill me." she said lowly. "It's trapped on the other side. As long as none of the mirrors in here are intact, it can't get through to us. The only problem is we can't go back. Shadow is a patient guy, too, so it looks like we'll be here for a while."

"What's here?" Rowan asked. "Where are we?"

"A mirror dimension. But it's limited." she crossed the room and opened the front door. Immediately outside it was a reflective wall preventing them from getting through. Y/n knocked on the mirror to show him it was solid. "It's unbreakable. Nothing exists outside of it., so nothing can get in. This is the safest place to be when a Shadow attacks."

After a moment of silence, Rowan spoke: "Vitrikinesis." he said. "You're a mirror manipulator."

Y/n nodded, pacing about the room.

"So how does charmspeak tie in?" he asked.

Y/n frowned. This was just about the first time he had engaged with her and not tried to murder her in the process. It felt weird to tell him things about herself. It felt weird that he wanted to know in the first place. “It's a branch of mirror manipulation. It takes whatever I want someone to do and reflects it back on their mind, making them think it’s something they want to do.”

Rowan nodded, and they lapsed back into silence. As Y/n paced, he noticed she was picking at a hangnail on her thumb. She checked the pendant every few moments, presumably to see if Shadow was still lurking in her dorm. He was still in shock from seeing her look so afraid. He had almost convinced himself that she had no capacity for fear, but this was irrefutable proof of the opposite. He had no idea what Shadow really was or what it could do, but he had the feeling it was much worse than he could imagine.

After a few minutes had passed, Rowan asked the question he had been dying to ask: "Why is your mother trying to kill you?"

Y/n stopped pacing, going completely still. She stared across her at one of the broken mirrors, unblinking. When she finally did speak, her voice was flat and monotone. Unfeeling. "When you said your mother had predicted that my destiny was to end the world...it was like you had confirmed my worst fear, Rowan." she said. "Do you know why I came to Nevermore?"

He shook his head, but, realizing that she was facing away from him and couldn't see him, he responded. "No."

"I came here to escape my mother. Six months ago she had a dream of the world ending — and I was at the center of it all. Believing she had received a vision from the Universe, she discerned that I was going to cause the end of the world, and that the only way to stop it was to kill me. For six months, I ran. But everywhere I went, Shadow followed. Weems was the first person to offer me a safe place to stay and protection. I couldn't pass that up." Y/n paused, biting her lip. "All this time I thought my mother was just crazy. That her powers had finally gotten to her mind and destroyed it. But now...I guess she was right all along. I'm going to end the word in seven days, and I don't even know how I'm going to do it."

Silence followed. Y/n sniffed as quietly as she could. She hated crying, and she hated people seeing it even more. She looked down at her feet and saw a sliver of a broken mirror. She saw her own reflection, her own pale, pitiful face staring back at her, and she picked it up. After a moment she turned and tossed it to Rowan, who caught it carefully so as not to cut his own hand. When he saw what it was, he looked up at Y/n in confusion.

"Go ahead." she said quietly. "I don't want to end the world, Rowan. But I don't want to give my mother the satisfaction of being the one to put a stop to it."

He looked back down at the shard of glass in his hand and suddenly he understood: he was asking him to kill her. After she had skillfully evaded his attempts to do just that for weeks. And even though every voice in his head screamed at him to take the opportunity and just do it, he hesitated.

It felt like cheating.

"Did you hear what I said?" Y/n said after a moment of silence. "Just fucking do it. I don't care if it's fast or slow or painful or just like falling asleep." she said. When he stayed silent again, her lip quivered and tears rushed back to her waterline despite her every attempt to push them away. "Rowan, please."

He shook his head. "No."

Y/n bit the inside of her mouth, rage filling her chest. Her mouth drew up into a sadistic grin. "Fine. I wanted to make this fair, but I guess I'll just have to do this the easy way." she said, and her eyes began to go dark.

Before she could utter a word of charmspeak, Rowan rushed forward, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Don't."

She ripped his hand away, betrayal filling her eyes. "What the hell is wrong with you? Isn't this just what you've wanted? Every fucking day I've been here you've been trying to kill me. No matter where I go, someone out there is going to want me dead. I can't escape my destiny, Rowan. The only way out is death. The least you can do is let it be on my own terms."

But still Rowan declined. "I'm not going to kill you, Y/n."

Enraged, she tore the mirror shard out of his hands. "Fine." she said, and held the shard to her own throat. Rowan used his telekinesis to once again tear the shard out of her hand, dragging a cut along her hand. She hissed in pain and turned her head to him, anger filling her eyes. She threw a punch, which he dodged, and then another. When he evaded both, she huffed, realizing she'd have to make herself a new way out. She looked down and suddenly a small square of the floor turned into a mirror. She looked down below and saw her dorm room as though she were standing above the ceiling. After a moment, she jumped down into it, landing atop her bed in a second mirror dimension. Very rarely did she jump from one temporary dimension to another because it was pretty easy to get lost, but she figured that if she planned to die today, it didn't much matter if she got lost or not.

Rowan landed beside her a moment later (which came as a shock, as she hadn't expected him to follow her) and threw an elbow into her throat. She stumbled and fell, and Rowan was once again on top of her, the shard of glass tucked in his hand. She frowned. "Not this again."

"Listen, Y/n, I'm not going to kill you. But if you try to charmspeak me into it, I'll rip your vocal cords out and leave you alive. Got it?"

Y/n just nodded, not trusting herself to speak without her voice wavering. She pushed him away, sitting up and staring at the floor. "This is a weird turn of events."

Rowan sat beside her. "I don't normally have people begging me to kill them."

"I wasn't begging, I was asking. Forcefully."

He laughed slightly. "Okay."

A moment passed between them in silence before Y/n spoke again. "Rowan, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"You can use telekinesis to choke people without touching them." she said. When he looked at her in confusion, she explained, "I looked it up in the library." she admitted sheepishly. "So why do you always use your hand when you're trying to kill me?"

He hadn't been prepared for that question. "O-Oh, um..." he trailed off.

"I know better than to ask if you have a crush on me, seeing as you've been trying to end my life for nearly a month. Happy three week anniversary of the first time you tried to murder me, by the way. I would've gotten you a gift, but I haven't exactly had time to browse the shops in Jericho."

He smiled at that, scanning the way she still picked at the hangnail on her thumb. The closer he looked, he realized she had hangnails on nearly every finger. Her fingers looked like they had been picked to bloody shreds. The guilt began to seep in. "For the record, I'm not usually a murderous lunatic."

"Could've fooled me." she said as she flopped back to stare at the ceiling, not bothering to disguise the bitterness in her voice. "You didn't exactly make a good first impression. Or a good any impression."

"I know." he admitted. "I don't suppose it would help if I said I'm sorry."

"It might, but it depends."

"On what?"

She sat up, meeting his eyes. "How do I know you're not going to turn around and try to kill me the second I'm safe from Shadow?"

He paused. "You'd have to trust me." he said finally. She laughed bitterly, rolling her eyes in irritation. He continued, "I'm the one who just stopped you from killing yourself, remember? I had my shot and I didn't take it. You don't think that counts for something?"

"I'm not sure when it comes to you. You haven't exactly given me any reasons to give you the benefit of the doubt, Rowan."

She had him there. He sighed, "I'll make you a deal."

Y/n looked up, brows knit together in confusion. He continued, "You're destined to end the world in seven days. I'll give you six of them. I'll help you try and figure out how to stop it, but if in six days from now you still don't know how to save the world, I promise you, you'll be dead before you can cause any damage."

The confused look slowly melted away, and he saw something he could almost call gratitude. "Thank you." she said. Then, her head cocked sideways like she was hearing someone speak, and she let out a small sigh of relief. "Shadow's gone. I guess he got impatient."

She got up to stand on her bed and, after taking a few test jumps, leapt through the mirror in the ceiling. Rowan followed, and by the time he got up to the first mirror dimension, she was already fixing the broken mirrors with a wave of her hand. They stepped back through and were once again in her dorm, which had been left untouched. With another wave of her hand, all the mirrors disappeared (save for the one original) and the ceiling returned to plaster.

Once the room was back to normal, she spun and turned to him. "Why did you come after me?" she asked.

To that, he shrugged. "You looked upset."

"And you're the caring, compassionate type?" she said, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Not that you ever gave me the chance to show it."

She squinted at him. "Fair enough." she said monotonously. "So, we'll start tomorrow — I'd like to figure out how I end the world so that I can not end the world and maybe live to be of legal age to know what Fireball tastes like."

Rowan laughed quietly. "You're kinda funny sometimes, you know that?"

She hid a smile. "Not that you ever gave me the chance to show it."

Without another word, Y/n walked to the door and opened it. "Now get out. I still don't trust you."

Rowan nodded, heading for the door. "I had a feeling."

"Hey," Y/n said, grabbing his arm to stop him before he could leave. "No one gets to kill me but you, okay?"

"Okay." Rowan confirmed. Y/n shut the door behind him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I hate this school."

Author's Note: HI HI HERE'S PART TWO! I feel like I could literally write a whole short story off of this and like,,, maybe I will? I was thinking of the name Ani Edwards for the MC, so let me know what you guys think of that! I also changed the title because I felt like this one fit nicer with the theme of the story. Of course I have to tag @ourgoddessathena for the post about mirror manipulation that inspired this character's power — I hope you enjoy how I used it in this fic. Much love to everyone!!

[001] BEING THE YOUNGEST IN THE STUDY GROUP (nbc community headcanons)

Because I am talking about a big group, I made a little color-coded list so there should be no confusion as to who is speaking! Also, this is set about halfway through season one, so that explains the timeline.

Reader = Purple Jeff = Blue Britta = Orange Annie = Yellow Abed = Green Troy = Red Shirley = Pink

pairing: fem!reader x platonic!community warnings: none

The choice to go to community college hadn't exactly been an ideal one

You had accidentally filled out all your actual college applications wrong and didn't realize they never went through until all the application dates had passed.

So, weighing your options, you decided that Greendale was your best option.

By then you had to enroll in all the leftover classes that still had spots open

You had taken French all throughout high school and barely retained a word of it. You'd hoped to jump into some French classes for an easy A, but all of the French classes had already filled up.

The solution? Spanish 101.

You showed up to the first day of class determined to make the best of the awful hand you had been dealt.

And surprise, surprise! Spanish was nothing like French.

The teacher was a little kooky and he severely overestimated how much work his students could do before the next class.

Before you knew it, you were drowning in work that you didn't know how to do and suddenly your grade started to drop.

When your next door neighbor took a liking to blasting loud music while you were trying to study, you decided to head to one of the study rooms to try and be productive.

But when you got there, you found the table was already full of people.

"Oh! My bad, sorry-"

You tried to leave, but, due to your immense surprise, one of the girls at the table recognized you.

"Hey, wait - aren't you in our Spanish class?"

Before you could confirm, someone answered for you.

"Yeah. She sits in the third row and color codes all her notes."

You looked at him in confusion.

"I'm Abed."

And then another woman in the room smiled at you.

"You color code your notes?"

You nodded and took them out to show her, but a douchey looking guy in a leather jacket scoffed.

"The only people who color code notes are horse girls and psychopaths."

Four years of going to public school has made you immune to assholes...and excellent at shutting them down.

So you slapped down your color coded notes and took the chair beside him.

"I bet this psychopath's color coded notes can teach you more Spanish in five minutes than an entire semester of whatever blow-off class you're taking."

And again, to your surprise, he almost looked impressed.

"I'm Jeff Winger."

"Y/n L/n."

And just like that, you were in.

You met with the group every day after class to work on the Spanish homework and study for upcoming tests and quizzes

But, to be honest, you guys weren't always great at staying on task.

"Okay, um... yo nací en mil novecientos noventa y dos."

"Hang on, that can't be right. You just said you were born in 1992."

"No, that's right."

"Y/n, that would make you seventeen."

"...Yeah?"

Needless to say, they kinda lost it.

"You're even younger than me! Wait, I'm not the youngest anymore? Ha! Suck it, Y/n!"

"I started school a year early and I have a late birthday! I don't know what the big deal is."

"No big deal, I just didn't know that there was a child in our midst."

"I am not a child."

"Aw, look at them pouting! They're so little and adorable."

Thus began your long journey of trying to prove to your friends that you were not a child.

Your first step? Changing up your look.

And boy did you turn some heads when you walked into the study room in a leather jacket and thick eyeliner

"Okay Wednesday Addams, give us our Y/n back and no one gets hurt."

"Jeff, I'm trying to prove a point."

"Is the point that you lost a bet with the cosmetology class?"

So...yeah. That didn't go as well as you were hoping.

Even so, they stuck by you through all of your erratic, split second decisions that you made without really considering the consequences

Like when you walked into the first day of second semester with bangs you had cut yourself over the break.

Surprisingly, Abed seemed to be the one most enthusiastic about them.

“It’s likely that we’ve just began a new season, so one of the main characters changed up their look to provide a jumping off point and to keep viewers interested.”

Silence followed…

“I like them.”

“Aw, thanks Abed!”

But, obviously, you endured some teasing—mostly from Jeff.

“Okay, remind me not to let Mia Wallace near a pair of scissors ever again.”

“Did you just Google ‘female characters with bangs’ and use the first one on the list?”

"…No.” (Jeff said as he slyly put his phone back in his pocket.)

The group became like a family to you, but sometimes you missed your family

Especially when they called and said that they couldn't make it to Family Day. You had had the sneaking suspicion that they were disappointed that you ended up at Greendale, but this seemed to confirm it.

You did your best not to let on how upset you were by brushing it off when you were asked.

"Y/n, how worried should I be about interacting with your parents on a scale of Helicopter Mom to Cougar?"

"Actually, my parents aren't coming to Family Day."

"Oh no, why not?"

"They were just busy. It's fine, I saw them a couple weeks ago. No big deal."

Family day approached and you were actually feeling pretty okay about the situation. Acting like you didn't care had actually made you not care, which you thought at the time was a good thing.

But as you sat in the quad and watched everyone walk around with their relatives, talking and touring, you realized just how upset you really were.

So you left.

You found yourself hunched over your Spanish textbook in the empty study room reading the same sentence over and over and mindlessly writing unhelpful notes that you'd never actually study.

You weren't sure how long you'd been there before you noticed someone looking over your shoulder.

"That's odd, these Spanish notes are in black and white."

"I wasn't in the mood to color code. Plus Abed stole all my pens to make mini lightsabers."

Jeff sat next to you, taking your textbook and notebook and placing them on the other side of the table.

"Look, I know that I spend a lot of time trying to act like I'm older than I am, but I'm still a kid. Know how I know? Because I miss my mom and dad. I was always a little afraid to leave home, so when I had to come here for school, I had to admit that I felt a little relieved to be only an hour away from where I grew up. I felt safer knowing my parents would only be a short car ride away. But now it just feels like they might as well be on the other side of the country. I know they're disappointed I didn't go to an Ivy League or get to go out of state for college, but I wish they'd just get over it and accept it. I have. Why can't they?"

Jeff never considered himself particularly good at the advice thing. Sure, he could talk until hell froze over and manipulate anyone into doing his bidding, but he could never figure out how to make sad people be less sad. You may have been young, but you weren't naive - he knew that.

He saw you now like a younger sibling rather than a jury member or someone he was trying to con. So he decided to speak accordingly.

"People are stupid. Parents are stupid. Greendale may not be Ivy League, but it's something. You could've blown off college and stayed at home where it's safe, but you didn't. You cared enough to pack your stuff, drive sixty minutes away, rob an entire Office Depot, and enroll in the last classes they had available. You did all that because you care. And if they can't see that, then that's on them. I may not know a whole lot about warm, fuzzy, familial relationships, but I do know this: you have a family here at Greendale. A weird, messed up, occasionally problematic family. So screw Family Day. We're a study group. And I wouldn't trade that for the world."

You hadn't expected to tear up, but you did anyway. You said nothing and hugged Jeff, who reluctantly returned it.

"I'll steal your pens back from Abed."

"Thanks."

The rest of the year progressed smoothly. Sure, you guys had your ups and downs of course, but you always found yourselves back in the group study room after class

But that, you supposed, was what a family did.

Author's Note: Can you tell I'm obsessed with Community??? Ugh this was so fun to write, I genuinely love the headcanon format because it's how my brain just functions, so this was really good for me to write to get out of my head for a bit. It's also funny bc this is how it is with my friend group, all of which are in college except for me, so it was fun to draw from some real life experiences. I hope you guys had a lovely week and I hope this makes you smile! Much love 💗🖤

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 — 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃. STARTS — JANUARY 2 ENDS — JANUARY 5

Hi everyone! Sooooo I just discovered that I hit ONE HUNDRED FOLLOWERS???? HELLO???????? That is insane and I am literally so grateful for each and every one of you. I wanted to come on here and do a little sumn sumn to show how much I appreciate all of you, and this is what I came up with! Hope you enjoy and thank you all again for 100 followers!!

HOW TO PLAY: pick a character/characters + and prompt, and then send me an ask with both of them. Also please specify if you'd like a drabble or a headcanon, otherwise I will automatically default to a headcanon. For the promts you can just send the corresponding number to whichever prompt you'd like. Send me the ask and I'll write you whatever you want! Fair warning, there are some smutty prompts in the list, so I'll put a little asterisk* by those so you'll know to expect a smutty drabble. Asks can be anon or otherwise, just send in whatever combo you like! Enjoy!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Wednesday Addams

Xavier Thorpe

Tyler Galpin

Rowan Laslow

Jeff Winger

Abed Nadir

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Hermione Granger

Ginny Weasley

Peter Parker (MCU)

Peter Parker (TASM)

Bruno Carrelli

Matt Murdock

Kate Bishop

Eddie Brock

Regulus Black

Remus Lupin

James Potter

Lily Evans

Sirius Black

Dick Grayson

Jason Todd

Rachel Roth

Gar Logan

Stiles Stilinski

Liam Dunbar

Theo Raeken

Gilbert Blythe

Theseus Scamander

Jules Paxton

Nick Nelson

Anakin Skywalker

Five Hargreeves

Peeta Mellark

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬)

“why are you really here? to mock me? to… make me hate you more?” “no. none of that. i came to be a friend, because it really looks like you need one right now.” (this post)

“they would be so mad if they found out.” “fuck ‘em” (this post)

“please, for the love of god, shut up for once.” “why don’t you come over here and make me?” (this post)*

“i’m tired of having to pretend we hate each other.” (this post)

“you’re annoying, you know that?” (this post)

" it's alright... it's okay... i'm here now. i've got you. " (this post)

" who did this to you?"

"we make a pretty good team." (this post)

" you never need to apologize to me. ever. and certainly not for crying... " (this post)

"Hey! Hey, it was just a nightmare. You're okay. I'm right here."

“What, did you think I kissed you all these times because I was doing it for the shits and giggles?” “…Let’s be real, you did have a lot of fun shoving your tongue down my throat in public.” (this post)

“I’ll get over you. I promise. These feelings, they’re— they’re only temporary, I swear. I—I’ll get over you. Just please don’t leave me—” “Did you ever think, that maybe, I don’t want you getting over me? What if I don’t want these feelings to be only temporary? That maybe I... Like you, too?” (this post)

“I didn’t mean to fall for you.” “And neither did I.” “…Fucking pardon?”  (this post)

"this is a one-time thing only. don't let me being nice to you get to your head." (this post)*

"Make me." *

"Wait! Can you maybe stay? I don't want to be alone tonight."

"This is why I love you."

“if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs” (this post)*

“is that my shirt?” (this post)

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?” (this post)

— 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 + 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬

21. Enemies to Lovers 22. Friends to Lovers 23. Childhood Best Friends to Lovers 24. Only One Bed 25. Forced Proximity 26. Cuddling 27. Co-Workers 28. Sharing Earbuds 29. Sickness 30. Halloween 31. Christmas 32. Nightmare 33. Scary Movie 34. Coffee 35. Unrequited Love 36 Academic Rivals to Lovers. 37. Forbidden Romance 38. Stargazing 39. Mornings 40. Going to sleep 41. Date 42. Hug 43. Panic 44. Mutual Pining 45. Friends with Benefits to Lovers

— dating dick grayson

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sfw & nsfw under the cut

PAIRING: dick grayson x fem!reader WARNINGS: there is some nsfw content underneath the cut (i labelled it so it can't be missed). there are also mentions of fighting, cuts, bruises, general vigilante stuff. SUMMARY: just some cute (and some spicy) headcanons for dating our beloved nightwing

NOTE: I love writing for this character so much — specifically because I've heard from sooooo many people that my boyfriend looks exactly like him. It actually became such a recurring joke with my friend group that we dressed up as Dick & Barbara Gordon for homecoming. But the resemblance is so uncanny it's actually insane — hence why I love this character so much. I hope you guys enjoy this thing I wrote at three in the morning!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ sfw

Dick is so protective, just as a person. Of family, of friends, and especially of you.

If you're a Titan like him, he's the first to jump to your side in a fight — not because he doesn't think you can handle yourself (he knows you can) but because he can't bear not having you in his eye line during a fight. If something were to happen when his back was turned, he'd never quite be able to get over it.

In the middle of the fight, he's constantly shouting to you, asking if you're okay, if you need help. And after the fight he's the first one to you, asking if you're hurt.

And if you're a civilian and you somehow get caught in the middle of his work? Oh my God this man will lose it. His top priority disappears and is instantly replaced by making sure you're safe and well out of the way of danger.

The 'patching up each other's wounds' trope is strong with Dick

He always wants to know how and why each little cut and bruise got there

❝ Wait, where did this one come from? ❞ ❝ Remember when the guy pulled out all those little throwing knives? ❞ ❝ Ah. ❞

I feel like his love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch — he loves both giving and receiving them.

He'll always pull you aside to tell you he loves you before he goes into a fight.

He'll reassure you with forehead kisses instead of kisses on the lips. They just feel more safe and comforting.

But the ultimate way he makes you feel safe and comfortable is by cuddling. He loooooves cuddling.

Nothing makes him happier than wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight to him. He loves falling asleep that way, tangled up together, because it lets him know that you feel completely safe around him.

He knows he can be an imposing person, so he always does his best to make you and everyone else feel safe around him.

And let's be honest, that man is a giant teddy bear.

But he can be pretty scary when he wants to be.

Like I kind of said earlier, if someone is messing with you, he's the first one to be by your side to defend you

At the end of the day, he loves coming home to you and knowing that you'll be there for him every step of the way.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ nsfw — mentions of hickeys, oral (f & m receiving), praise, roughness, fingering

Dick is a pretty selfless person — he's always concerned about other people, he's a bit of a people pleaser, etc.

Thus I firmly believe he's a giver over a receiver.

They don't call him Dick for nothing—

He also definitely has a praise kink, both for giving praise and receiving it.

His favorite, of course, is calling you a ❝ Good girl ❞ and telling you how well you're doing.

He loves to go down on you. There's nothing he finds more beautiful than looking up at you from in between your legs, seeing your face contorted in pleasure as he brings you over the edge.

He also looooves when you pull his hair. It's a sign that he's doing well at making you feel good. This ties in with the whole praise thing.

He never pressures you into anything and always makes sure to get consent before doing something.

He also loves to wake you up by going down on you. He obviously asked for consent the night before, but he just loves the surprise of it.

Or he'll even just wake you up by pressing kisses to your neck and gently fingering you

It isn't until you're awake and moaning that he'll smirk at you and say good morning.

The auDACITY

And if you want to go down on him? I mean...he won't refuse.

I don't think his initial instinct is to be very vocal, but once he feels perfectly comfortable and safe with you, oh Lord is he vocal.

He's a very gentle person in general, but every once in a while he needs to let off some steam.

You'll come back from a fight and you'll barely have the time to shut the bedroom door before he's pulling you to him and kissing you.

The suit stays ON

He can get a little rough, but he always makes sure that you're okay with what he's doing.

But he loves after care — and he's great at it too

Like I said earlier, he's a cuddler, but if you're both up for it he'll jump in a shower with you

He doesn't normally like to leave marks because he doesn't want the others to start asking questions, but every once in a while he likes giving you a hickey or two.

But he places them strategically on your collarbone, where they'll be just barely hidden by your shirts and revealed by the merest tug on the neckline (and yes he does take advantage of this)

You're a little more enthusiastic about hickeys than he is

Luckily, in his, er, line of work (???) hickeys can more often be explained away as bruises

Like if it ever gets brought up, he just brushes it off.

❝ What's on your neck? ❞ ❝ It's uh, just a bruise. ❞ ❝ Oh. Looks like a hickey. ❞

Dick will just kind of freeze up, caught of guard by the directness of that statement, and you'll just smile and wrap an arm around him, pressing a kiss directly to the so-called ❝ bruise. ❞

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎 → g. blythe

pairing: gilbert blythe x fem!reader type: fic request: none warnings: mild angst (but mostly fluff)

prompt/trope: "I like you." A mumbles, almost scared to admit. B absently reaches for A's hand on the railing, a smile forming on their lips. "Can we really do this? Nobody must know-" A throws B's hands on their shoulders, pulling them by their waist. "You and I know, and I think that's--that's more than enough, love." (@urfriendlywriter)

summary: when an accidental glance makes y/n's heart race, she's pushed to make a confession to her best friend, gilbert―who, surprisingly, seems open to a confidential agreement. word count: 1845

One glance. That was all it took. Y/n looked up momentarily from her slate, craned her neck ever so slightly to look beside her, and found a pair of hazel eyes already locked on her. In an instant she saw familiar freckles and curly dark hair, and an instant later they were gone. Gilbert's head snapped away the moment Y/n's eyes met his as he struggled desperately to look instantaneously busy in his studies, but Y/n's head stayed up, a crease forming between her brows as she gazed on, trying to work out why exactly Gilbert's eyes had been on her - and, even more, how long?

"Miss Y/l/n!" Mr. Philips snapped from his place at the desk. "Tear your eyes away from Mr. Blythe for once and focus."

A spattering of giggles from the girls and snickers from the boys coursed over the room. The only two who stayed truly silent were Gilbert and Y/n, who kept their eyes fixed intently on their respective slates so as not to draw any more attention to themselves - or to the other. Y/n's cheeks blazed red (as did Gilbert's although she was too afraid to look up and see it).

But it all begged the question, why? Gilbert and Y/n had been close friends from what seemed like the beginning of time. Well, perhaps friends wasn't the best way to describe how they started out. They began as all children do―by bothering each other. He'd pull her hair and she'd chase him around the schoolyard, throwing insults back and forth until they both ran out of breath. It happened so often that, at some point, they almost began to enjoy it. Soon enough they'd find themselves taking the same path to and from school. They'd use that time to bicker as well, not wanting to walk in awkward silence. Then, eventually, their bickering turned to casual conversation, then to enrapturing discussion about anything―reading, school, the goings on of Avonlea.

But they were friends. That was all. So why was Y/n blushing to high heaven over nothing but a momentary glance?

"Miss Y/l/n! Tear your eyes away from Mr. Blythe for once and focus." Y/n replayed the teacher's scolding again and again in her mind as she walked to town hall. Recently she'd been giving her time to help Miss Lind with the annual Christmas play she put on - with Gilbert. The two had long since grown out of participating, so they volunteered to help in other ways. Miss Lind had put Gilbert in charge of the lighting, seeing as he was the only one who could make sense of the queues and contraptions involved in the process. And Gilbert, quipping that he could only truly stand to be around her for hours at a time, elected Y/n to help him.

Until that day, Y/n had looked forward to rehearsal. But now she found her palms beginning to sweat as the town hall neared, despite the snow that was still surrounding her as she walked.

"Y/n!" Miss Lind exclaimed upon the girl's arrival. "Lovely to see you. Gilbert's already in the loft―go on up and see what you can do to help."

Miss Lind knew to phrase her request in such a way because it was common knowledge that Gilbert was the true brains behind the operation, and Y/n was his less knowledgeable but very teachable assistant. Y/n nodded at Miss Lind's request and left her to continue squawking at the young children singing a very off-key rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas.

Y/n climbed the familiar steps to the upper loft at the back end of the auditorium, feeling her heart race as she did so. She tried with all her might to scold it back to a normal rhythm, but it was no use. All the panic just wormed its way into her mind, her thoughts racing at speeds that were surely unnatural.

Gilbert was indeed already at the loft, close by the railing, tinkering with one of the stands as she tried to raise it a few inches. Y/n stepped quietly so as not to make her presence known immediately, hoping for a few extra seconds to plan how to address him (although she had never quite wondered such a thing before), but her heel brushed a paint can by the landing and caused a great scraping noise that in turn made Gilbert whip around in surprise.

Y/n pursed her lips. "Oops." she muttered.

She heard Gilbert laugh. "Could you stop knocking things over for a moment and help me?" he asked. "I can't quite figure out how this is supposed to work."

"Aren't you supposed to be the expert on lighting?" Y/n quipped, walking over and crouching to look at the light stand from below. "No, no you're doing it wrong―there's a fixture inside that needs to be turned, but it's locked. There should be something on here to unlock it..." she spoke, running her hands along the stand until her fingers grazed a notch. She seized it, pressing tightly until the button depressed, and there was a small click. Immediately the stand began to collapse into itself, lowering at a high speed. Gilbert and Y/n both reached out to stop it and found their hands on top of each other. At once the stand stopped its fall and came to halt, leaving both Gilbert and Y/n breathless.

There was a moment of silence as they both blinked at the stand, making sure it wouldn't fall. Then, Gilbert let out a breath, laughing slightly. "Now who's the expert?" he asked quietly.

Y/n smiled breathlessly back at him, now intently aware of Gilbert's hand atop hers. He froze as well, seemingly noticing the same thing. Y/n's breath hitched. In an instant she removed her hand from the stand and moved away to let Gilbert raise the stand himself. Y/n moved to stand by the railing and looked down upon the rehearsal on the stage. She picked at wood chips on the railing nervously, her hands growing cold.

Gilbert watched her for a moment as she did so before turning back away to fiddle with the light stand. Something gnawed at him as he did so, but he focused on the task ahead of him.

Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek and fiddled with the railing. She couldn't do much about the lighting without Gilbert to instruct her―but she was dead set on not turning around and speaking to him unless absolutely necessary. And, right now, nothing seemed necessary. Not in the slightest.

Finally there was a sigh, and Gilbert moved to stand beside her, placing his own hands on the railing. "What?" he asked lowly.

Y/n didn't meet his eyes, but stared straight ahead of her. "What do you mean?"

"You seem upset." he said gently. "Anything I can do to help?"

Y/n almost laughed at that―Gilbert's not knowing that he was the root cause of all of her worries. "There's nothing you can do, Gilbert. Believe me." she said. "Unless you're up for murdering Mr. Philips?"

"Normally I would say yes, but today I'm feeling like an upstanding citizen. So I guess I'd say...make it look like an accident."

Y/n laughed this time, but a moment later she felt Gilbert take a step closer to her, and her heart beat resumed its incredible pace. She moved away to the other side of the loft almost immediately to try and lower the other stand to meet the other. Gilbert frowned as she moved away.

Y/n lowered the stand with a decisive press, making sure it was level with the one on the other side. Miss Lind was struggling to gather all the actors together on the stage to start from the top of the show, meaning that soon Y/n and Gilbert would be forced into silence as they focused on the show. For Y/n, that couldn't come soon enough.

The show began within the next several minutes, during which Y/n and Gilbert sat in uncomfortable silence as they shuffled around the loft, rearranging things and ensuring everything was in its correct place. Y/n set the light and left it, knowing that she needn't change it for the majority of the show. Gilbert set the other light as well and saw Y/n wander back to the railing, leaning against it and holding onto it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. He frowned.

In a moment, Y/n saw Gilbert lean backward onto the railing beside her out of the corner of her eye and stiffened, gritting her teeth. They stood there for a moment with Gilbert trying to figure out to phrase his approach and Y/n hoping against all hopes that he didn't try to say anything.

But, of course, he did. "I know something is wrong." he whispered.

"Shh," was all Y/n said in response, using the ongoing show in front of them as an excuse to shush him.

Gilbert's frown grew deeper, but he pushed on nonetheless. "Is this about earlier? Because what Mr. Philips said―"

"Shh," she said, more forcefully.

"Y/n." said Gilbert, taking her hand from the railing and holding it in his. Y/n looked down at it, her heart skipping a beat. Gilbert tried to meet her eyes, but she kept them craned down. "Y/n, look at me."

She bit her lip. How could she explain to Gilbert something she didn't fully understand herself?

Slowly, she looked up, worry knitting her brows together.

"Tell me what's wrong." Gilbert pleaded quietly. "Whatever it is, I want to help. I don't like it when...I don't like seeing you upset. So, come on. Talk."

Y/n, overcome with worry, looked away, fixing her eyes on the stage. She had a chance―a chance to do something that had the power to completely upend her and Gilbert's friendship. But she didn't think she could stand regret.

"I like you." Y/n mumbled.

Gilbert absently reached for Y/n's hand on the railing, a smile forming on his lips. Then, in one swift motion, Gilbert moved forward and pressed his lips on hers. Y/n, shocked, nearly jumped out of her skin. But, almost in an instant, she relaxed into his touch, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

But a moment later she pulled away, fear worming its way back into her mind. "Can we really do this? Nobody must know―"

Gilbert interrupted her by throwing his hands on her waist, pulling her in. "You and I know, and I think that's―that's more than enough, love."

Y/n smiled, the fear melting away as she looked at Gilbert.

"Hey!" came the shrill voice of Miss Lind. "That's the light cue! What's going on up there?"

"Nothing!" Gilbert and Y/n yelled in unison, scrambling back to their posts on the loft, hiding their smiles.

Author's Note: AHHHHHH MY FIRST FIC!! I've had this one in my head for a while now, but @urfriendlywriter 's prompts just really nailed it into my head that I needed to write it. I've been binging AWAE as school started and...I gotta say...I'm a sucker for dark hair and dark eyes. And the title, inspired by a Hozier song, just fits the vibe of the show so well I love it. But yeah! Enjoy my first fic and send in any and all requests you got!

<3 Gracie

hi! i'd like to ask a drabble on tyler galpin in which y/n is an addams (wednesday's sister/cousin) with prompts 7,22

thanks :)

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey there!! I think this prompts is adorbs and I literally loved writing it. I'm so sorry it took me so long — school was crazy this week, considering that musical rehearsals started on Monday, but I hope you enjoy what I wrote for ya! Thanks again for the ask! Without futher ado, let's get onto the fic!

CHARACTER: TYLER GALPIN — WEDNESDAY (2022) PROMPT #7: "Who did this to you?" PROMPT #22: FRIENDS TO LOVERS

PROMPTS 7 & 22 — FIC WARNINGS — NONE

Y/n Addams had always felt somewhat outshined by her sister. Not that Wednesday shined, of course not — she preferred to be sharpened and venomous. Y/n, on the other hand, was slightly more...romantic. While she enjoyed the doom and gloom that Wednesday surrounded herself with, she needed a break every once in a while. At times like that, she'd go outside and into the forest behind their house. Sure, it was haunted with several spirits and crawling with any number of carnivorous plants and venomous insects, but she liked the way the sun shone through the dead trees in the morning. That was the kind of stuff Wednesday could never enjoy. Wednesday was a novelist — strict, stiff, and to the point. Y/n was a poet — flowery, romantic, with a tendency towards the dramatics.

The two had been paired as roommates together at Nevermore, seeing as Y/n was the only one Wednesday could stand for long periods of time. And it was great, of course, but Y/n could feel herself going a little insane — and not in a fun way. Wednesday's side of the room was bedecked in all things dark and macabre. Y/n had gone the more sensible route, with muted jewel tones, but that didn't change the fact that whenever she turned her head slightly to the left, all of Wednesday's evil vibes would be there.

Wednesday was in the middle of working on her novel, the typewriter keys clicking away, when Y/n decided she couldn't take it. She stood up suddenly. "I'm going down to Jericho." she said, grabbing her blazer and shoes.

Wednesday didn't respond, but Y/n saw the slightest nod of her head in between typing, so she took that as a confirmation. Without another word, Y/n left the dorm, closing the door swiftly behind her.

The trek into Jericho was much needed. As Y/n headed further and further away from Nevermore, the clouds began to clear, the sun began to shine, and for a moment she got a glimpse into what it looked like to live somewhere normal.

Jericho was a quaint little town with little shops here and there. Y/n perused them (glaring at her therapist's office) before she came to a stop at a coffee place called the Weathervane.

Y/n blinked up at the coffee menu, a large sign littered with things like Iced white mocha and Caramel macchiato, and she frowned. Back at home, there was only one thing on the coffee menu: coffee. It all looked like gibberish as she scanned the menu, just trying to decode all the fancy-worded beverages up there.

"You still looking, or can I take your order?"

Y/n looked away from the menu to see a barista around her age, maybe older, with sandy blonde curly hair and blue eyes. He looked at her sort of wearily, and Y/n had a feeling that it had to do with the Nevermore blazer she was currently wearing. "Do you have...coffee?" she asked.

He looked around them. "Uh, yes. Plenty of it." he said with a laugh. "Do you want a latte or something?"

"Does that have coffee in it?"

He laughed again, becoming even more confused by her. "Yes."

"Perfect. I'll take one."

"Hot or iced?"

"Iced."

"What type of milk?"

"None."

Again he paused. "Without the milk, a latte is just straight espresso."

Espresso. I know that one. "Yes."

"So you just want...a double shot over ice?"

"Make it a quintuple shot." Y/n said with a tone of finality. Caffeine never affected her much unless in large quantities, and she could use a pick-me-up. Even if it came with tremors and the incessant urge to jump up and down until she collapsed.

The boy raised his eyebrows. "You sure? That's pretty intense." he asked. Y/n nodded and he set to work. While the espresso machine hummed, Y/n looked around the Weathervane. It was cute, almost revoltingly so. But it was just plain enough that it didn't hurt to look at. She almost felt herself smiling, but quashed that down quickly.

"How does one get a job?" she asked.

He glanced up at her from the machine. "You're looking for a job?"

"I never said that." she snapped.

"Okay, my bad." he laughed. "Well, it's pretty simple. Make a resume, hand it in, and then you'll have an interview."

"Oh." Y/n said, trying to mask her disappointment.

"Oh?" Tyler replied.

Reluctantly, Y/n explained. "I don't think I'd do well in an interview. People tend to find me strange and off-putting."

"Can't imagine why." Tyler said with a laugh. Y/n looked at him and frowned and he jumped to apologize. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean—"

"I found it funny." Y/n cut him off quickly. She hated apologies. "But I'm mildly allergic to comedy."

Instead of asking for further explanation, Tyler just continued pouring espresso shots.

"And, yes, I may be looking for a job. One that I can hide from everyone — especially my sister."

"You're trying to hide a job?" he asked. Y/n didn't answer, and he continued. "Well, this one is incognito enough. All you need is an apron. You might smell like espresso constantly, but you can blame that on a caffeine addiction."

Y/n paused, thinking. "You're right about that. But there's just one problem." she said. "I don't have a resume."

"They're not hard to make. Do you have any previous work experience?"

"No."

"References?"

"No."

"...Hobbies?"

"I'm quite proficient in Voodoo and I'm heavily interested in the subject of reanimation."

Tyler paused, blowing out a breath. "Well, that's something." he said. Then, he looked around. "Look, I go on break in a couple minutes. If you want to wait, I can help you get a resume going."

Y/n considered the offer for a moment, then nodded. Tyler set down the cup in front of her and she opened her wallet, but he held out a hand to stop her. "It's on the house. Take it as a 'First Time Customer' discount."

She paused. "Thank you."

He nodded. "I'm Tyler Galpin."

"Y/n Addams." she responded.

Without another word, Y/n took her cup and slid into a booth by the window. She looked up at the steep hill leading to Nevermore and how the sun seemed to disappear the further up it went. She sipped her drink (cold and bitter, just how she liked it) and started to panic. Maybe she liked it better in the sun. That would give Wednesday a heart attack. If she ever showed up back at their dorm with a sun burn it'd send her directly into cardiac arrest. She could not let that happen. Wednesday was a force to be reckoned with.

A few minutes later, Tyler sat across from her, bringing with him a few pieces of paper and a pen. Y/n looked in confusion between him and the objects as he clicked the pen. "So you said you're proficient in...voodoo?"

A couple hours later, they had a complete draft of a resume. A few crumpled papers littered the table (trial runs that had gone rather poorly) and Y/n sat back, reading over it. "This is a good resume?"

"Sure," Tyler responded. "I mean, it's not perfect, but it's better than some others I've seen. The only thing missing is an email and a phone number."

"I don't have a phone. I'd rather die than carry around a means for the government to track me all the time." she said bluntly.

Tyler had learned by now it was better not to ask.

"I can type this up and bring it back tomorrow." she said. "I'll just need to borrow my sister's typewriter without her knowing. That should be simple enough as long as she's not lurking in the corner. She likes to lurk."

"Uh...great." Tyler said, slightly confused still. "You want to come back tomorrow and we can go over the interview thing?"

Y/n gave a deft nod and turned on her heel to go, leaving Tyler to stand there in mild awe of the interaction he'd just had. Then, she turned back around and walked back up to him. "Thank you." she said monotonously, and then turned back around to go.

She returned the next morning, and the morning after that. And the morning after that. Then, once both she and Tyler felt she had the whole interview thing in the bag, she formally submitted her application to work at the Weathervane.

And, by some miracle of the universe, she got the job.

They asked her to start immediately — Tyler volunteered to show her the ropes (because everyone else knew by then that that was a daunting task) and she got to work, sneaking out of school to work weekends and on days when she had classes in the mornings.

On one particular morning she snuck in through the back door (as per usual), hiding a long cut that stretched from her temple all the way across the apples of her cheeks — a souvenir Bianca had given her in fencing class. She hadn't had time to take a trip to the infirmary unless she wanted to be late for her shift. The job had been going on for a couple weeks now, and she actually quite enjoyed it. She helped Tyler by threatening difficult customers (despite him telling her that that's usually not the best way to go about that) and he helped her figure out how their janky espresso machine worked.

In fact, her and Tyler had gotten pretty close over those couple of weeks. They talked during breaks and he had actually managed to make her laugh out loud once her twice — and Y/n never laughed out loud. But she liked being around Tyler. He was a nice change from Wednesday's constant doom and gloom. Not that Y/n didn't love doom and gloom, but she needed a break every once in a while.

But on that day, when she left the back room and stepped onto the barista floor, she kept her head down and did her best not to let Tyler know she was there. That didn't really work, seeing at their workspace was about five-by-seven. Y/n turned to check that the pastry shelf was full and, when she turned around, Tyler stood behind her, holding a full cup of coffee in one hand. He smiled when he saw her, but it quickly fell as his eyes traced the long cut across her cheek.

"Y/n—" he said, but she didn't give him a chance to finish that thought as she pushed past him and met a customer at the register to take their order.

Tyler watched her, a crease forming between his brows as he looked at the slash that covered nearly half of her face. It looked recent, too, and that was something that freaked him out the most. So before she could set off to make the customer's order, he took her by the shirtsleeve and pulled her off to the side.

"Who did this to you?" he whispered.

Y/n just blinked. "Did what?"

Mildly irritated, Tyler brushed his thumb gently across the cut, and she winced.

Y/n sighed. "It's nothing. I was in fencing and my dueling partner got the best of me. Worse cuts happen to Rowan Laslow all the time."

"I don't care about Rowan Laslow, I care about you." he said so seriously that Y/n stopped, the breath hitching in her throat. Then, Tyler looked around the cafe for a moment, as if surveying the land, and then pulled her into the back room. He rummaged around one of the shelves and retrieved a first aid kit.

"I know how to do stitches." Y/n said.

"No way."

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms as Tyler looked around the small first-aid kit. Eventually she felt something akin to pity and broke her silence. "Tyler, there's nothing in there that'll help with this. I just have to let it heal."

Tyler let out a cough of a laugh, continuing to search. "You go to a messed up school, you know that?"

"Yes."

Eventually Tyler realized she was right and shut the kit, sighing. He walked over to her again, once more brushing his thumb over the cut. And while the sting made her cringe, Y/n didn't mind the feeling of his hand on the side of her face. "Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Only when you touch it." she said through gritted teeth.

He grinned. "Sorry."

He let go, but they stayed close together, looking at each other, silently waiting for the other to say something.

"Y/n, I—"

"We should probably—"

They both shut up to let the other speak, but that just resulted in more silence.

"You go." Y/n said.

"Oh, um," Tyler said, caught off guard, "I was just going to say that I...Y/n, I think about you a lot. Like, when I said I care about you, I meant it. And a lot of the time, when I think about you, I wish you went to school here, in Jericho. And I know you like Nevermore and all, but I just...I don't know." he trailed off. "This sounds stupid."

"I know what you mean." Y/n said, her voice flat and monotone as always. "Even though we work together, you feel like we live in two separate worlds — as painfully rom-com as that sounds."

Tyler laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Exactly."

"But we don't. Not really. I'm just up there." she said, pointing out the window towards the stormy hill that led up to Nevermore. "I know you have a moral opposition to it, but Nevermore welcomes visitors. Not that any of them ever show up, of course."

"That's not what I'm saying," Tyler replied. "I mean, sure, I'd love to visit you at school, but...Y/n, the best part of my day is when you walk through that door." he pointed to the front door of the Weathervane. "And yeah, you might think that people see you as strange and off-putting, but I don't. I never did. Well, maybe a little, but only in a good way."

The slightest stretch of a smile twitched at the corner of Y/n's mouth.

"What I'm having immense difficulty saying is—"

Y/n cut him off by standing on her toes, leaning up, and pressing a kiss to his lips. It was quick, over in an instant. When her feet were back flat on the floor, she looked up and saw Tyler's eyes had gone wide. "You were taking too long. I got impatient." she said simply.

Then, he smiled, pulling her back in for another kiss.