Hi! I'd Like To Ask A Drabble On Tyler Galpin In Which Y/n Is An Addams (wednesday's Sister/cousin) With

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.

𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏'𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙏𝘾𝙃 ?

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[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 💗🖤

different ― c. fisher

SUMMARY: For your entire life you'd been hoping that one day, somehow, Conrad Fisher would look at you as more than just a friend. Who knew all it would take was a shiny piece of metal through the side of your nose?

PAIRING: conrad fisher x fem!reader WARNINGS: mentions of piercings and blood.

You had been going to the beach house at Cousins your entire life. Your mom, Laurel, and Beck had been a trio ever since they were nine years old. They'd dressed up as the Powerpuff Girls, Donna and The Dynamos, and every possible trio costume you could imagine throughout the years. They went their separate ways, had kids, and lived their separate lives. But every summer they all found their way back to Cousins. You found your way back. To the beach, to the house, to your best friend Belly, and to the boys.

Steven was Belly's older brother ― smart and annoying as all get out. And then there was Jeremiah the jester. He was a sunbeam in human form the way he was always laughing and smiling and being the life of the party. To be around Jeremiah was to be happy. And finally there was Conrad. Not much to be said there; but, somehow, also everything.

Conrad was the oldest, and the only one younger than you was Belly ― and that was only by less than a year. But because of that, Conrad only ever looked at you like a little sister. And as you two got older, that label started to bother you. Maybe because you stopped seeing him as an older brother. Maybe even more than a friend. And that was the issue ― his perspective never changed.

But you didn't need to worry about that. Summers in Cousins were about having fun. And that's exactly what you were here to do.

Your mom's car pulled into the driveway, giving you the first chance to breathe in the salty beach air. You found yourself smiling ― real smiling. The kind you don't notice until it's already there.

The front door opened and Susannah stepped out, a giddy smile on her face. "You're here!" she shouted, throwing her arms out. Things like that were very Susannah. She was theatrical and fun and sweet. That was what everyone loved about her ― especially you.

She wrapped you up in a hug the moment you stepped out of the car. "Oh, sweetheart, it's so good to see you!" she exclaimed, holding you tightly.

"It's good to see you too." you responded, smiling and taking a deep inhale. She always smelled like Chanel perfume, the kind you always begged your mom to get you. She always said no and told you you'd never use it, which you had to admit was true; it was Susannah's trademark.

You looked over Susannah's shoulder and saw that everyone had already gotten there ― Steven, Belly, and Laurel stood on the porch by the stairs. Jeremiah appeared in the doorway a second later, a smile stretching onto his face as he bolted down the stairs to you.

You laughed at his enthusiasm and let go of Susannah so she could hug your mom. The moment you did he scooped you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "You're back, loser!" he shouted, almost like he was letting the entire neighborhood know.

"I can see that." you said with a laugh.

He set you back down, scanned your face, and frowned. He had found the nose piercing you had gotten over Christmas break. "Oh my God. What is this?" Jeremiah exclaimed, messing with the shiny object.

You laughed and cringed away. "Hey, stop! You're going to get it infected."

"I'm sorry, I'm just freaking out a little here," he laughed, "You look like a badass."

"I bet you cried like a baby while you got it though," Steven said, appearing at Jeremiah's side to pull you into a hug.

"Yeah, and it gushed blood like a fountain," you said, making a silly face and mimicked your nose pouring blood. Steven cringed away in disgust while Jeremiah laughed at him.

"You do look cool though," Belly said, giving you a hug too.

Belly let you go and, all of a sudden, there he was. Conrad stood a few feet behind the group in a hoodie and shorts. Same old Conrad. For a moment, the breath caught in your throat and time seemed to slow as you waited for him to say something.

But, as usual, Jeremiah beat him to it. He grabbed you by the shoulders as if to present you to Conrad. "Look at this! Our little Y/n is growing up so fast." he said, faking a sob. You elbowed him lightly in the gut, rolling your eyes at his antics. Now is not the time to be reinforcing the concept of 'little Y/n.'

Conrad's head tilted as he noticed the piercing. "It looks like you got a shiny piece of metal stuck to your face."

Very anti-climactic. So you just shrugged and played it off with another laugh. "Sounds weird when you put it like that, but, yeah, sure."

Another moment of awkward silence. You fiddled with the hem of your shorts.

"Aaaaaaand she looks amazing! Now that we've got that covered, let's get you guys settled in." Jeremiah said, taking a suitcase from your mom and pecking her on the cheek. Classic Jeremiah. He disappeared into the house with your stuff and you followed, not noticing as Conrad Fisher's eyes followed you through the doorway.

It had been a few days and Conrad had yet to say a word to you. Jeremiah had warned you over text that he had been especially moody the last couple of months, but you hadn't been expecting total radio silence. It was off-putting. When you were younger, you and Conrad would spend the entirety of dinner kicking each other under the table while the moms yelled at you to stop. Now he just stared down at his plate and didn't speak unless spoken to.

You would have been angry if you weren't worried. He'd quit football, something that he was really good at, and he seemed not to take interest in anything anymore. You'd walk into a room and he'd walk out, like he couldn't stand being around you anymore. It stung.

That night you laid starfish on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, running through the same monologue you had been repeating to yourself the whole week: what did I do wrong? With a huff, you got up, forcing yourself out of the spiral and into the closet, where you rummaged through your drawer of swimsuits until you found your favorite polka-dotted one. You traded them for your pajamas, grabbed a towel, and headed downstairs.

And, as you headed into the backyard for a late night wade through the pool, you discovered you weren't the only one with the same idea. Conrad sat at the edge of the pool, holding a smoking joint between two fingers. You both paused, noticing each other at the same time.

Then, you spoke. "Probably smart not to smoke in the house," you said, heading towards the pool, "although Laurel could probably catch you through the window."

He didn't respond, but he didn't protest as you sat down next to him. "And hey, what's this whole tough guy act you have going on, huh?" you continued.

"What?"

"You know, the whole brooding, emo thing you have going on. Where you don't talk to anyone and act like everything is a waste of your time," you said. "I still remember the Conrad that taught me how to add fractions and how to skateboard without breaking an ankle."

He blew out a puff of smoke. "That was years ago, Y/n."

"I know," you nodded. "I just wanted to remind you that you were nice once. And fun, too. And now you're like this whole other person that ― "

"This is about me being different?" Conrad asked, his voice rising slightly. "You're the one who showed up with dyed hair and a nose piercing."

Your eyebrows raised, an involuntary scoff escaping your lips before you could stop it. "Seriously? This is about my nose piercing? Look, if it makes you feel any better, I got it while I was drunk at a party in my friend's bathroom. Does that make you feel better, Conrad?"

"That's it, though. It feels like last summer you were putting seaweed in your hair and calling yourself George Washington. And now you're getting drunk at parties and piercing your nose?" he paused, his voice suddenly becoming solemn. "I always knew that things would change. I just never guessed it would be you."

You paused. This wasn't at all what you were expecting. But he was right ― you had changed, whether you noticed it or not. "Okay, so I've changed. Why does that give you an excuse to avoid me like the plague?"

"It doesn't. I'm sorry," he said, and you believed him. "I've just spent my whole life looking at you like...like little Y/n, the kid who dives for hermit crabs and makes kingdoms out of sand castles. And now you're different."

You hadn't noticed your breathing quicken, or your hands starting to shake. "Good different?" you asked, feeling your heart start to pound in your chest.

Conrad turned to you, his hand reaching up to the side of your face, his thumb reaching up to brush over the piercing on the side of your nose. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Good different."

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 → j. paxton

pairing: jules paxton x fem!reader type: fic request: none warnings: nah, just fluff!

prompt/trope: none!

summary: jules and y/n have a movie night after winning a game. word count: 1.16k

"Did you see that last goal? I don't think I've ever seen a goalie jump so high and fail so miserably!"

Jules and Y/n were practically bubbling after the win against the Chiswick girls' team. They'd had the best defensive record for years now, and they'd beat them. The most brilliant thing about it was that it hadn't even been close! It wasn't even a question of if by the second half. Nothing made Jules happier than winning a game, and nothing made Y/n happier than Jules being happy.

"I'm home, mum!" Jules called into the house as they shut the back door behind them. Y/n's brother had given them a ride back from the game and Y/n had her overnight bag at her side, soccer bag in the other hand.

Jules's mum appeared in the kitchen, dressed in bright pinks and blues from head to toe. To put it lightly, she looked a bit absurd. Jules's mum loved bright colors. She never ceased her hobby of buying bright outfits for Jules that she'd never wear. Right then she looked like she'd stepped out of a paint store after having neon paint thrown over her. She looked surprised. "Y/n! You're here as well?"

"She's spending the night, remember?" Jules said, setting her back down by the door.

"Oh." her mum said, looking between them with suspicion for a moment. "Well then. Would you girls like anything to eat?"

"Nah, thanks mum. We're probably just going to watch a movie, and then maybe the game?" Jules looked to Y/n to confirm and she nodded.

At the mention of the word game, Jules's mum looked disappointed. She was never perfectly content with Jules's love of football. She was just about appalled when she found out that women's games were broadcast on television. It meant Jules could actively pursue her love of sport on and off the field. "Just...take off your shoes before you track dirt into the house."

The two girls nodded, slipping off their shoes. Jules peeled off her jersey (earning her a side eyed glance from her mum) and grimaced. "We need a shower." she joked.

At the word "we," Jules's mum jumped like she'd been shot, but by then Jules and Y/n were too far up the stairs to notice.

Two hours later, Jules and Y/n were sat in the living room with matching wet hair, half-watching a horror movie Jules had put on. They were more interested in talking about the game - and in the box of pizza on the table in front of them.

"She practically handed the ball to the other team. Joe was livid." Y/n recounted the moment when she looked over and saw their coach fuming over a pass made by one of the girls on their team.

"It's so odd, Lily's been playing so well lately too." Jules nodded. "I think she said her boyfriend came to the game—maybe that threw her off?"

Y/n shrugged. "Maybe. I wouldn't understand why, though."

"Come on, really? You don't think having the person you're dating in the stands wouldn't freak you out a bit? I think I'd want to show off as much as possible." Jules laughed. "Maybe she was thinking so hard about showing off for him that it messed up her play."

Y/n frowned as she got up off the couch to get more water from the kitchen. "I dunno. I guess I can't really imagine being with someone who doesn't play soccer. I mean, I don't think I could date someone who knew nothing about it. It's practically my life when school's out."

"I think I know what you mean." Jules hummed. "Dating anyone at all seems like too much sometimes. Especially with my mum, who throws boys at me whenever we're at one of her dinner parties. It's like she's trying to marry me off to the most eligible suitor or something."

Y/n walked back to find Jules sprawled on the couch on her back, eyes glued to the TV as she took up all the room. Y/n sighed a laugh. "Thanks for leaving me a spot."

"Well, come here then." Jules said, holding out her arms.

Y/n gave her a look and Jules rolled her eyes, beckoning her again. "Come on, there's plenty of room when you look at it vertically."

Y/n laughed at that, but she couldn't ignore how quickly her heart was beating. Jules, on the other hand, seemed perfectly cool and collected. To be fair, Jules was always an affectionate person. Whenever either of them scored a goal in a match they would always be found leaping into each other's arms, occasionally knocking each other over and laughing hysterically. It drove Joe mad, but they loved it. It was like a tradition.

But this? It was something different.

"You're mad." Y/n mumbled, but she set her glass of water down and walked over to Jules anyway. Shakily (but composed enough to hide it), she fell into Jules's arms, laying her head near her collarbone. Jules wrapped her arms around her, sighing into her hair. "See? Cozy."

Y/n laughed quietly, but she couldn't quite get over the fact that their legs were tangled together and her head was tucked in the crook of Jules's neck so comfortably. God, she really hoped Jules couldn’t feel how fast her heart was beating.

“Jules.” Y/n spoke suddenly, almost startling herself.

“Yeah?”

Y/n looked up at Jules. “When you said dating anyone seems stressful, did you mean anyone?”

Confused, Jules laughed slightly. “Er, yeah I guess so. What d’you mean?”

“Well, we never really talk about guys, right? I mean…it just never really seems important to either of us. And…I dunno, you just don’t seem super interested in all that.” she said, then quickly added: “I’m not either.”

Jules frowned. “I guess not.”

By now Y/n heart was practically in her throat, thumping so hard she could practically feel it in her skull. No, she was sure she’d offended Jules. That was it. “Jules, I–”

Before she could finish the sentence, Jules leaned down and pressed her lips to Y/n’s. It sucked all the air from Y/n’s lungs, a cold wash of shock going up her spine. There is no way this is real.

In an instant it was over. Jules pulled away, and Y/n looked up at her with her mouth slightly agape. For a moment Jules panicked, wondering if she had gone about this completely wrong, but then Y/n moved up so that she was straddling Jules’s waist and kissed her again. This time Jules was the one caught off-guard, but she kissed her back like she had planned it all along. 

When she pulled away, Y/n looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Is this too much?” she asked quietly.

Jules smiled. “Not at all.”

Author's Note: If there's one universal experience I know about, it's Bend It Like Beckham being a gay awakening. I simply will not ever get over this movie!!!! Nor do I want to!!!!!! I hope you enjoyed this fic, I've loved Keira Knightley's character in BILB for so long it was crazy to me that I'd never written a fic for her! Enjoy this one, loves!

AWW THANK YOU SO MUCH! And no worries, I totally understand!

hiiiii hazel!! i absolutely adore your writing and i was wondering if i could get a small blurb for wednesday addams with the dialogue prompts "we make a pretty good team."

thank you so much! have a lovely lovely day <3

heyy honey!! congratulations on 200 <33 and I love love ur idea but I'm currently not taking requests!! maybe in the future I'll definitely write this 🫂 and I think u are one of the most talented writers on here! 💋