#idk how you could treat someone who was kind to you so wrong

[utilitycaster]

The identity erasure in fandom is so exhausting.

I feel like someone could write a thesis specifically about Zac Oyama’s characters being pushed into queer/ nd stories by fandom without any regard to the actual textual stories of racism, model minorities, and othering that often arise from Zac’s work.

Like I can find hundreds of Gorgug/ Zelda/ Ragh fics and fics about Gorgug being autistic and only a handful that engage with Gorgug’s race. And actually, you’re just as likely to see a fic about fantasy racism towards Riz, which. Is not the story being told.

Truly wild.

You know, this is really fascinating to me both because I tend to only see the most ridiculous discourse coming from D20 and I don't read fic, but also despite neurodivergence being not uncommon among peole in fandom, as I said, people acted like Travis Willingham was too stupid to play a druid as recently as late 2021 (even after he'd played a hexadin). It's gotten much better and more AP actors have openly talked about having ADHD (Travis McElroy, Aabria Iyengar, Siobhan Thompson, Taliesin Jaffe, Ashley Johnson) which I think forced people to consider what ADHD looks like but now it's kind of become a new "oh this character is LIKE ME" thing where basically anything can be used as evidence, which is fine for headcanons but becomes a problem when you ignore the identities you don't personally have.

But yeah, Zac in particular gets treated terribly - I haven't seen people be as awful to Lou despite him also being a man of color (though I have seen people be weird about him not necessarily choosing to play fat characters and it's like idk man why do you feel he's obligated to play characters that represent you, especially since he does clearly choose to consistently play black characters?) but a lot of people ignore that yeah, Zac has consistently played Japanese characters whenever they've been in a real-world-inspired setting, and that Gorgug is a half-orc living with gnomish parents who is curious about his parentage and who ends up pursuing artificing like his adoptive parents and feels like a very meaningful exploration of being multiracial. I do, for what it's worth, think there is textual exploration of anti-goblin racism in the first season that isn't really followed up on...but it's kind of telling that also, Gorgug isn't canonically queer and Riz is, and Riz is played by a white actor.

I would like to see someone, actually, do an academic exploration of everything talked about here because it's like:

Is this character, in-world, textually an oppressed identity (Fjord, Molly)

Is this character portrayed, in-world, as being of an identity that is oppressed in our world but is not in their world (eg, Beau being a nonwhite human lesbian in a world that doesn't really have color-based racism, usually favors humans, and doesn't have homophobia)

Is the character portrayed by an actor with an oppressed identity (Zac is nonwhite, Ally is trans, etc)

Is this actor a person with an identity shared by their character (ie, Lou and Aabria usually play black characters but those characters do not necessarily experience racism in their world - Fabian doesn't but Kingston would as does Eursolon; Deanna and Suvi don't - if I'm wrong bc I'm behind on WBN sorry)

If a character has multiple identities, which one are people connecting to and which are they ignoring?

If a character is, for example, played by an (afaik) straight cis nonwhite man and played as a straight cis nonwhite man (Ricky Matsui as played by Zac) do people headcanon them as being more like themselves to make them more relatable? Does this happen more with nonwhite characters given the heavily white AP audience?

If a character's race in a fantasy world is metaphorical, do they care about it? when and how?

anyway. much to think about.

[yvmoveon]

.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hey girlyyyyy could you maybe write for Tim Bradford from the rookie and like the reader is his rookie and while they’re on patrol they run into someone who knows the reader’s abusive ex bf and he makes threats against reader and after their shift reader is super scared so he escorts them home and stays with them idk just an idea 😅

Nightlight || Tim Bradford x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • john nolan fic  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you encounter a man while on patrol who has a threatening message from your ex, your TO, Tim, offers to spend the night with you

word count: 10.4k

warnings: abusive past relationship, reader kind of has a panic attack, mild language, blood, guns, inaccurate police stuff

a/n: ahhh i had so much fun writing this, love!! i took your idea and also added some stuff so i hope you like what i did. i also apologize for the length, i kinda went wild. i imagine this to take place in s1. fem!reader. enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “7-Adam-19, armed shoplifter, Radcliffe Complex, 718 Oscar Road. Respond.”

     The dispatcher’s voice filled the silence of the car.

     “7-Adam-19 responding.” Officer  Bradford set down the radio and replaced his hand on the steering wheel.

     “What’s the most important thing to remember when dealing with an armed shoplifter, Boot?” Tim asked you after a moment. 

     “Why did I think that when I was in short-sleeves I would get a break from your Tim Tests?” you muttered.  

     You’d been Bradford’s rookie for seven months now and some days he still treated you like it was your first day on the force. You appreciated him trying to teach you so thoroughly, but did he have to be so Tim all the time?

     “Is that your answer, Boot?” 

     “No, um, I guess it would be that he’s armed. But no, that’s too obvious for you. Ok, what about what they’re stealing? Their physical state? Keeping their hands in sight at all times?”

     Tim sighed, looking bored. “Wrong. It’s—”

     “Suspect on the move, heading east on Apple Boulevard,” came the dispatcher’s update, interrupting your TO’s answer.

     “Looks like we’re headed east,” Tim said, turning sharply in the direction you’d just come from. 

     “Saved by the suspect,” you joked. 

     “Don’t think this is over,” Tim narrowed his eyes at the road. “Lessons don’t stop for crime.”

     “Ok, batman.”

     Tim glared at you.

     “I mean, Sir.”

     After you’d first been assigned to Officer Bradford, you’d been told stories of his ruthless training style. Your first thought was that you needed to impress him from day one.

     Well, technically your first thought was damn, because you’d have to be insane not to notice how objectively attractive he was. But you’d quickly quelled that thought—crushing on your TO was not how you wanted to start your career as an officer. 

     So, impressing him was your second thought. And you had been more than a little terrified of not impressing him. 

     You would be lying if you said that wasn’t how things still were between you two, to a degree—you trying to prove yourself and him making it as difficult as possible. 

     But, at least after several months, you felt like your TO trusted you more. 

     “There!” You pointed to a man running down the street, duffel bag in hand.

     Tim hit the gas, surpassing the suspect, and skidding to a stop in front of him, effectively cutting him off. 

     You both hurried out of the car, weapons drawn on the man who was currently aiming his gun back and forth, between you and Bradford. 

     “Police! Drop your weapon!” Tim shouted at the man. 

     The man hesitated, seeming to be weighing his options—how easily he could take out two cops. 

     “Set the weapon down, nice and easy,” Tim ordered, his own gun still pointed at the suspect.”

     The man, seeming to sense the inevitability of his capture, sighed and set his gun on the ground. 

     “The answer was dialogue, by the way,” Tim addressed you, his eyes still on the suspect. “Dialogue is the most important  thing when dealing with an armed suspect.”

     “Good to know,” you acknowledged, before ordering the man in front of you. “Hands behind your head, interlace your fingers.”

     The man’s gaze shot to you as he obeyed your commands. 

     “Hey, lady cop, you look familiar,” the criminal squinted at you. 

     “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said. You’d never seen this man in your life. 

     “I swear—”

     “Hands on the car!” You ordered 

     The man reluctantly did what he was told, placing his palms on the side of the shop. 

      “Wait a minute,” the man sized you up before smirking slowly. “Your Paul Cranston’s girl, ain’t ya?”

     You felt your blood instantly run cold at the name. 

     “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said again, robotically, grabbing one of his arms. 

     “No, no I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere,” the criminal whispered. “He told me all about you. Hey, why don’t you let me go and I’ll give you a friendly tip?”

     You responded by twisting his arm behind his back even harder.

     He winced. “So you didn’t hear then? Paul’s out.”

     No. That couldn’t be true. Paul wasn’t supposed to be out for—

     “Boot, you going to cuff him or not?” Tim called impatiently.

     “Right.” You shook off the stupor and began handcuffing the suspect. Your mind was still on that name, however, and your reflexes were slowed.

     Which is how the suspect was able to rip his arm from your grip and shove you to the ground as he tried to make a break for it. 

     Tim tackled him almost immediately, wrestling him into the cuffs that were dangling on one of his wrists where you had started to restrain him, and pushing him towards the shop.

     “Wait, Paul’s got a message for you!” the man hurried out, looking only at you as Tim waked over and shoved him into the backseat. “He said you best watch yourself, because he has connections, and he still hasn’t gotten his revenge. He’s out—and he’s coming for you.”

     “That’s enough, get in the car.” Tim slammed the door shut, and the echo of it rang in your ears as the man’s words played over and over again.

     He’s out, and he’s coming for you. 

     “What the hell was that?” 

     You looked up to Bradford’s questioning—and furious—face. He offered you a hand and you took it, standing up to face him. 

     “Sorry, I—”

     “‘Sorry’ doesn’t stop criminals from escaping,” Tim shouted. “Get your head in the game. You do want to be a cop, don’t you, Boot?”

     “Yes, sir.”

     So much for Tim trusting you. You couldn’t believe you’d almost just let a suspect get away. That had never happened to you before. But, that name—

     Your TO shook his head, walking to the drivers side and opening the door. “You know, I should write you up for that.”

     You noticed his wording. “But you’re not going to?”

     He waited for you to get into the passenger seat before saying, 

     “I didn’t say that. First you’re going to tell me what just happened between you two.”

     You flinched. “It—nothing. It was nothing.”

     “Uh-huh. It didn’t sound like nothing. Who’s Paul Cranston?” 

     You swallowed hard. “He’s just someone I used to know.”

      A million images flashed through your head. Paul’s face looming over you. The flashing lights and sirens. Waking up in the hospital. 

     You shook yourself out of it. You didn’t want to talk about this now. You swore you’d never talk about it again. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we get back to the station. Don’t we have to book this guy?”

     Tim sighed, started the car, and re-entered traffic. You breathed a sigh of relief. 

     “Control, this is 7-Adam-19. I need an ID on a Paul Cranston,” Tim spoke into his radio. 

     And so much for not talking about this now.

     “Can you do that without suspicion of a crime?” You asked him.

     “You can when dispatch loves you.” He winked at you. 

     You rolled your eyes at him as the radio began speaking. 

     “Paul Cranston: caucasian male, date of birth 8/4/92, recently released on parole, history of theft and domestic violence.” 

     Tim turned his gaze to you. “How do you know this man, Boot?”

     “It’s—a long story,” you told him. 

     “Well then you better start talking if you want to finish before we reach the station,” Tim commanded, making a left turn.

     “Can’t you just let it go?” You asked him. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

      He’s out, and he’s coming for you. 

     You couldn’t fight the shiver that racked your body. 

      Tim’s eyes flicked to you, before returning back to the road. Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, shifting the car into park before turning to you. 

     “If this is another one of your ‘I’m dying, where are we’ tests—”

     “Boot, focus,” Tim barked. 

     “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think it’s really any of your concern if—”

     “Of course it’s my concern!” Tim shouted. His expression was so intense, you squirmed under his gaze and you felt your face heat. 

     He looked torn for a moment, before sighing and saying, “It’s my job as your TO to train you to the best of my abilities, and I can’t do that if you’re withholding information that may affect your performance as an officer.”

     “Fine,” you breathed. “It was a long time ago. I was 18, Paul and I met freshman year of college. We started dating and things were fine, good even, for a while.”

     “Until?” Tim prompted.

     “Until he got pissed one night because I caught him coming home really late with a ski mask and a bag full of stolen cash. Cliche, right?”

     You looked to Tim, but his expression was as stony as ever and you continued.

     “Apparently, he’d been stealing since high school and turns out he’d lied to me about working in retail and a whole bunch of other stuff. I threatened to call the police if he didn’t stop and—”

     You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

You watched the houses and trees and cars pass by as you drove towards the station. 

     “—and he hit me. It didn't stop after that—once he knew he could get away with it. He said if I ever told anyone—about the robberies, the beatings—that he’d kill me. And I let him go on like that for months. I was so scared that if I called anyone, he’d make good on his promise.”

     Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his fingers turning white, but he didn’t speak.

     “But then, one night, it got so bad that I thought he might actually kill me anyway. So I waited until he left the room for a minute and I called 911. He was arrested and—and that’s all I remember before I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital the next morning.”

     You kept your voice even, trying not to let the emotion show through your story. You were just recounting facts. This was almost 10 years ago, and you’d moved on with your life. 

     But reliving it all was hard, even after so much time had passed. 

     “It’s actually why I joined the academy,” you finished. “I wanted to save people, the way the officers that night did for me.”

     You were both silent for a moment. 

     A muscle in Tim’s jaw ticked. “Does the department know?”

     “Yeah,” you sighed. “It’s all part of my file.”

     “And the guy back there?” 

     You shrugged, glancing back at the suspect and lowering your voice. “He must be one of Paul’s partners or goons or—I don’t know. I guess he’s been in contact with him since he was released, if he knows what I look like.”

     The thought made your skin crawl. 

     “I don’t know what came over me,” you kept going. “It’s been years, I just—I didn’t expect to hear about him out of the blue from a criminal on the street, you know? But, I promise it won’t happen again.”

     Tim ignored that. “Do you think it was an empty threat?”

     “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I sure as hell hope so.”

     Bradford was silent for a long moment, his expression tense.

     The radio crackled to life. “7-Adam-19, we have a 215 in progress near your area, 239 West Armston Street. Respond.” 

     “Negative,” Bradford answered the dispatch call. 

     You stared at him, shocked. “Why aren’t we taking that? We can drop this guy off afterwards.”

     “Yeah, I agree,” the suspect chimed in from the backseat. “I think you should take that first.”

      Tim payed him no attention. “They’ll have someone else over there in minutes. We have more important things to do.”

     “You’re not even going to ask me if I know what a 215 is?” You joked. Tim never passed up an opportunity to quiz you. 

     “What’s a 215, Boot?” 

     “Carjacking.”

     “Correct.” Tim nodded. “And we’re going to have a talk with Sergeant Grey.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

    “Paul Cranston, released on parole from a thirteen year sentence three days ago, currently believed to be residing in the Woodland Hills area.”

     You sat in the briefing room, surrounded by other officers, as Sergeant Grey read out your ex-boyfriend’s file. You stared into Paul’s face on the screen, his mugshot visible from all angles. 

     Bradford stood near the front of the room, leaning against the wall. 

      “The department is aware of Officer (Y/l/n)’s history with Mr. Cranston,” Grey continued. “And will take necessary action should the situation progress.”

      “So, what’s the course of action here?” Tim crossed his arms. 

     “I’m afraid, as of now, there isn’t one,” Grey said. “Since there is no direct proof against Paul Cranston, we’d essentially be taking the word of a petty thief and wasting resources on what most likely was a desperate attempt to escape arrest. The department doesn’t exactly consider it a threat.”

    “Doesn’t consider it a threat?” Tim’s voice was low and dangerous. “How about a charge for threatening an officer?”

    “But Paul didn’t threaten an officer,” you sighed, thinking. “The armed robbery suspect did.”

     “Exactly, Officer (Y/l/n),” Grey agreed. “Basically, our hands are tied.”

     “Then untie them,” Bradford snapped, beginning to pace. “There’s gotta be some technicality we can get him on. Violation of parole, conspiring with a felon, failure to—”

     “That’s enough, Officer Bradford,” The sergeant fixed your TO with a firm look. “I appreciate your concern for (Y/l/n)’s safety, but we’ve done all we can do. And, for now, that’s nothing.”

      Tim’s concern for your safety. That thought had been in the back of your mind since the ride to the station. You couldn’t figure out why Tim was so determined about this. You supposed you were his rookie and was his job to look out for you. It was just, up until now, he hadn’t exactly done anything to make you believe he’d care so much.

     “Failure to take action could be endangering one of our officers,” Tim said, his jaw clenched. “Who’s to say this guy won’t make good on his threat? At least increase security at (Y/l/n)’s residence.”

     “Tim, its fine,” you said, your voice firm. “Let it go.” 

     They were making a big enough deal about this already. It probably was just a case of a criminal trying anything to get free. You doubted Paul even cared about what happened to you anymore. He probably never wanted to see you again—and that was a good thing. 

     But, then, you couldn’t get those words out of your head.

     He’s out and he’s coming for you.

     Bradford turned to you, his chest rising and falling. He looked so…resolved. Like he did when chasing down a suspect or that time when you’d walked in on him in the training rooms.

     Images of Tim shirtless, the muscles in his back tight as he pushed himself harder filled your head and you quickly shook them away. Definitely not the time. 

   “We’ll send a surveillance team to Paul’s location in the morning,” Grey said, turning to address you. “But for now the best thing you can do is to go home, get some sleep, and not let this rattle you. Understood?”

     “Yes, Sergeant.”

     “Good. Because the last thing the L.A.P.D needs is a cop who lets their personal life get in the way of their ability to do their job in any way that’s less than exemplary. I trust that’s not the case?” 

     You glanced to Bradford, certain he was going to mention your mistake with the suspect earlier. 

     “No, Sir,” Tim said instead. “My rookies don’t do ‘less than exemplary’. Don’t worry about (Y/l/n)—she’s proved to me she has what it takes to be an officer.”

     “Glad to hear it. Shift over. Everybody else, back to work,” Sergeant Grey waved everyone away. 

     You walked towards the front of the room, hearing grumbled complaints about midnight shift from the unlucky officers who still had to do patrol as you did so. 

     You stopped in front of your TO. His eyes were on you, his brow drawn in something that looked like concern.

     “Thanks,” you said. You couldn’t believe he’d told Grey all that—it was the most complimentary thing he’d said about you in your whole time riding with him. 

     “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Tim stated, shrugging. “I expect you to live up to any praise I’ve given you.”

     “Yes, sir,” you nodded, almost smiling.

     “Besides, you’re being trained by me. You’d have to be royally screwed up not to become one of the best on the force.”

     “And he’s humble too,” you teased. “But I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

     “Whatever, Boot.” Tim smiled, shaking his head. 

     “Be nonchalant all you want,” you said, feeling brave. “I know you like me.”

     For a brief moment, Tim looked like you’d slapped him. But then, the flash of—whatever that was—was gone and his expression was replaced by one of cold indifference. 

     “In your TO not your friend, (Y/l/n),” he stated. “It’s not about liking you. It’s about training you.”

      You sighed inwardly. Just when you thought you were making ground with Tim, he treated you like you’d just met. “Of course, how could I forget.”

     Tim stayed silent. 

    “Well, I should head out,” you told him, “I’ve got a busy night ahead me. You know, trying not to get killed by my ex and all.”

     You’d meant it as a joke, to make light of the situation that left you feeling more uneasy than you’d care to admit. Tim, however, just shook his head and brushed past you, out of the briefing room. 

     You stood there for a moment, trying to work through what had just happened, before turning around and taking a step in the other direction. Only to find Officers Lopez and Bishop standing in front of you, staring between you and Tim’s retreating figure. 

     “So how’d you do it?” Bishop looked you up and down.

     “Do what?” You asked, confused. 

     “Get Tim wrapped around your finger,” Lopez answered for her, smirking. 

     You felt your eyes widen. “Tim’s not—” 

     “Please,” Lopez put her hands on her hips. “I’ve watched him train dozens of rookies and he’s never stood up for any of them like that. So naturally I figured you’re either blackmailing him or sleeping with him.”

     You blanched, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you let what Angela said sink in. You knew she was just teasing you, but the statement caught you off guard. You imagined you and Tim—together. It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant thought. And then you realized what you were thinking and you chided yourself, hurriedly un-imagining it. 

     “No, that’s not—neither one of those things,” you answered quickly. “Trust me, Tim doesn’t give me any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. I actually can’t tell if he hates me half of the time.”

     “We’re not implying anything,” Bishop replied. “Only observing. And he doesn’t hate you.”

     “How can you possibly know that?” You were suddenly insecure. You still held on to a secret dread that you were going to wildly disappoint Tim—that you already had. Sure, there was all the stuff he had just said. But there was also months of him being hard on you and saying that you weren’t friends. 

     “Because I’ve seen him hate plenty of people,” Bishop spoke. “And he definitely didn’t look at them the way he looks at you.”

      The way Tim looked at you? You weren’t aware he looked at you in a way that was different from the way he looked at anyone else at the station.

     “What are you guys trying to say?” You asked them. 

     “I’m saying watch out,” Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Because Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.”

     Could there be any truth to what the two officers were saying? Was it wrong for a small part of you to hope there was?

     “Um, ok,” you said, blinking. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

     “Don’t believe us if you want, it’s your call,” Bishop shrugged, backing up. “But I’m telling you, you mean something to Tim that the rest of us can only guess at.”

     And with that she walked out of the room.

    “Bishop can be intense,” Angela said when the woman was out of earshot. “She’s got that whole ‘anti-cops-dating’ thing going on—but I do think she’s right about this. Tim’s tough, and I’m sure he gives you hell—but it’s not because he doesn’t like you. I actually think it’s quite the opposite. ”

     Was there really something that everyone saw between you and Tim except for you? You still couldn’t even entertain the thought that Tim had feelings for you that were more than TO and rookie. 

     “Well you’ve certainly left me with a lot to think about,” you said finally.

     “Then I’ll let you start thinking—you’re welcome for the peace of mind.” 

     You wouldn’t have used the phrase peace of mind, yourself. Sure, it was nice to know that the officers who had known your TO for years were confident that he didn’t look down on you. But, this conversation also had left your head swimming with conflicting thoughts about Tim that you didn’t feel like dealing with right now.

     “And take care,” Lopez said knowingly. “We have your back if anything happens.”

      With that, your thoughts slammed back to the current situation.

    “Right, that. You—you think something’s going to happen?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

     “I think in this job we have to be prepared for the worst,” she corrected. “But I also think that bastard would have to be pretty stupid to mess with you.”

     She smiled at you and you smiled back. After watching her leave, you followed her path, heading towards the locker rooms.

     You thought about what she had said about you and Tim, about Paul.

     You hoped she was right—you just couldn’t say which you hoped she was more right about.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     Your thoughts bounced between your conversation with Talia and Angela and the message from your ex as you walked to your car minutes later. 

     When you woke up this morning, you thought the most stressful part of your day would’ve been a police chase or a shootout.  You never would’ve expected it to be my ex-boyfriend is out of jail and could be hunting me down and my training officer might have feelings for me.

     Funny how things could change so fast.

     Suddenly, you heard a bang. You spun around quickly, your heart in your throat. But it was only a car door being slammed shut from across the parking lot. 

     Get a grip, you told yourself. 

     You rounded the corner, running a hand through your hair.

     You stopped. Tim was leaning against the side of your car, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked you up and down.

     “What are you doing?” You asked. 

     “Driving you home, Boot,” Tim said. “Get in the car.”

     “Tim, you don’t have to—”

     “That wasn’t a question, give me the keys.”

     There was no point in fighting him. Besides, there was a small part of you that didn’t really want to fight him. 

     You tossed him the keys to your car and got in the passenger seat with a sigh.  

     Tim started the engine. 

     “If this is about Paul, this really isn’t necessary,” you said after you’d been driving for several minutes and the silence became too much. “I can handle myself. I am an officer, in case you forgot.”

     “You’re a rookie,” Tim corrected, eyes never leaving the road. “And if the department won’t do anything, then I will.”

     “What—we’re not going to go looking for him, are we?” You asked.

     “Of course not,” Tim scoffed. “I’m not a vigilante, Boot. Where do you live?”

     “Take a left at the light,” you guided. 

     Neither of you talked for the remainder of the drive, save your occasional directions. When you pointed out your apartment building, Tim parked the car and handed you the keys. 

     “Thanks,” you mumbled to him as you got out of the car, grabbing your bag and heading towards the building.

     You heard a door shut behind you and turned to find your TO standing on the sidewalk, an eyebrow raised.

     “You didn’t think I was just going to let you spend the night alone with a target on your head, did you, Boot?” 

     “Tim—”

     “No more protests,” he said firmly. “As your TO, I—”

     “No, I was just going to say that if you were planning on staying here, why couldn’t I have just driven my own car?”

     “I don’t let my rookies drive,” Tim walked past you and to the front door. “Even off-duty.”

     You followed him quickly, getting out your key and letting you both in.

     When you reached your apartment you did a quick scan of the space—it wasn’t exactly like you’d been expecting company, much less your training officer. You cringed at the messiness.

      “How many entrances and exits are there?” Bradford asked. 

     “Um, just the front door. And there’s windows in the kitchen and the bedroom,” you said. 

     You skimmed past everything in the place, looking towards the window in your bedroom. Your eye caught on one of your bras hanging from your bedpost. You quickly ran over and shut the door, blushing and hoping Tim hadn’t noticed.

     “Please, Boot,” Tim made a face. “It’s nothing I haven’t already seen before.”

     “Ok no offense, but I usually don’t let guys see my bra the first time I bring them to my place,” you joked.

     “If that’s an offer, I’m going to have to politely decline.”

     “What—no,” you hurried out, worried your voice sounded wrong. “I just meant—”

    Tim interrupted. “I’m going to do a sweep of the place, make sure everything’s as it should be.”

     “Is that really needed?”

     “I’m not taking any chances.” He left the room and you sunk down onto the couch, letting your bag fall to the floor. 

     Your TO returned a few minutes later. “All clear.”

     “See, everything’s fine,” you said, speaking just as much to yourself as you were to Tim. 

     “Well,” Bradford started, amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say everything is fine. Your storage closet’s a fire hazard.”

     Had Tim Bradford just made a joke?

     “I’ll be sure not to exit through the closet in the events of a fire,” you said sarcastically. “And if you keep insulting my living space, I’m going to be forced to kick you out.”

     “Bold for someone whose career I could end.”

     “You can’t end my career for that,” you shot back. Paused. “Can you?”

     Tim raised his eyebrows.

     “Only one way to find out,” you said enthusiastically, teasing him now. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t let the closet trap you on the way out.

     “Nice try, Boot. But you’re still stuck with me for,” Tim checked his watch. “eight hours.”

     “Nine hours,” you corrected. You had to leave for work in nine hours.

     “You’re right, I should get us drinks,” Tim joked.

     You rolled you eyes and he shot you a look. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”

     Tim got up, disappearing into the kitchen.  

     “Is all you own ginger ale, Boot?” He called. 

     “There’s six year old tequila in the cupboard,” you suggested.

     “Ginger ale it is.”

      Tim joined you in the living room again, carrying two bottles. He handed one to you, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. 

     You noted the careful distance he put between you. 

     “What’s this thing made of, Boot? Plywood?” Tim asked, inspecting the couch.

     You smothered a laugh.

     “Get comfortable. It’s where you’re sleeping,” you answered. 

     “Won’t be necessary. If you’re not awake you’re not aware.”

     “So, what, we’re taking shifts on guard like this is a stakeout?” You asked.

     “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t come here to sleep.”

     “Tim I can’t let you stay up all night while I’m unconscious.” you sighed.

     “You can if it’s an order. Besides, no offense, but rookies are historically less vigilant and have a slower response time…” 

     You tried not to take offense at that. “Right, Eagle Eye.”

     Tim glared at you. 

     “Angela told me.”

     “Of course she did. And at least I didn’t leave valuable evidence on the street to chase after a dog wearing a top hat.”

     “Sparky could’ve been involved in the crime,” you said, indignant. “And that was one time!”

     “One time too many,” Tim mumbled, lifting the bottle to his lips, his eyes sparkling. 

     “Ok, so when you were a rookie you were, what, perfect?” You shot back.

     “Damn straight.” Tim nodded. 

     “You made no mistakes, at all?” You prompted.

     “Well,” Tim took a sip of his drink. “There was one thing.”

     “Aside from the graffiti incident?”

     “That wasn’t a mistake because it wasn’t my fault. I was following direct orders and—you know what, never mind. If you don’t want to hear it—”

     “No, no, I do!” you scooted towards the edge of your seat in anticipation. “And none of that ‘I worked too hard and too efficiently’ crap.”

     “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sarcastically. “My first week on the job I was put on paperwork duty, which was—”

     “Boring and tedious? I can imagine,” you deadpanned, having been put in charge of paperwork by Tim many times.

     “I was going to say necessary and a valuable skill to have,” Bradford corrected. “But anyways, we had just got done booking a couple suspects and I was working on the reports. A triple homicide and a prostitution case. It was a long day and I was tired and I guess I got sloppy—”

     “You? Sloppy?” You interrupted.

     “Do you want me to tell you this story or not?”

     “Right, sorry. Continue.”

     Tim did. “I’d just finished tagging the evidence for both cases and when I was filling everything out I somehow got the numbers mixed up. Long story short, according to my report, the homicide gun ended up being linked to the prostitution case and the weapon allegedly used in the triple homicide was…a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs.”

      You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you now.

     “Forensics caught it before it was sent to the judge, thank god,” Bradford sighed. “But the next day when I was getting ready for my shift, I was greeted by dozens of similar handcuffs in my locker—apparently Smitty has a guy.”

     “Tell me you kept them,” you begged, pulling your knees up to your chest.

     “Of course not!”

     Tim blinked.

     “Well, not all of them—Isabel made me take a pair home. I found out later that she was the one who orchestrated the whole prank. She used to do stuff like that all the time before she, uh,—”

     “Tim—”

     You’d heard about Bradford’s ex-wife. How she’d become an addict, gotten herself mixed up with bad people. You knew how much it had affected Tim, even if he hadn’t said so. 

     She was in rehab now, getting her life back together. You were glad she was finally getting the help she needed. Still, you knew how much she meant to Tim. How much it had hurt him to move on from her and let her start a new life without him. 

     “I’m fine.” Tim said firmly, clearing his throat. “It’s good to talk about her…before. She’s on the right path now.”

     You stared at the ground in front of you, picking at your fingernails. 

     “Are you still in love with her?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. You didn’t know why you asked—didn’t know why you cared what the answer was. Ten minutes ago you wouldn’t have even dared to ask that question.  

     But he was being so uncharacteristically open and you seemed to be getting along well. You reluctantly brought your eyes up to Tim.

     His eyes had gone wide. He looked like he wanted to leave or yell at you or both, and you immediately regretted it.

     But then his eyes softened and he opened his mouth. “No. I’ll always care about her and she’ll always be someone that I did love. But relationships change—people change.”

     You nodded. “I get it—I mean, I’m kind of rusty on relationships—but I get it. I actually haven’t dated anyone since Paul. I guess it was just hard to trust someone after that. I kind of sabotaged any relationship that had any chance of starting.”

     It was the first time you’d admitted that to anyone. You wouldn’t have pegged Tim as being so easy to talk to. You had almost forgotten about the whole Paul situation before you’d just brought him up. You had been enjoying hanging out with Tim, no matter the circumstances. He was actually pleasant to be around when he wasn’t on the clock. 

     You imagined this happening more often—you and Tim, not just coworkers but friends. Maybe even more. Maybe this was one relationship you didn’t have to end before it started.

     You dared to let yourself think about it. You watched Tim process your words. Saw the emotion clearly written in his face as he looked at you intensely. 

     “Hey, thanks again for not letting me be alone tonight,” you told him, you’re voice soft. 

     “Don’t take it personally, Boot,” he said. “My house is being repainted and even your place beats breathing in paint fumes all night.”

     “I’m honored,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “But you have to admit this has been fun—hanging out.”

     Your little impromptu sleepover. You smiled.

     Tim, however, looked like a switch had been flipped inside of him. You watched as he clenched his jaw, leaning almost imperceptibly away from you 

     “Listen, Boot—”

     He was cut off by the sound of breaking glass and a loud thumping sound. 

     You both shot up off the couch, abandoning your drinks. Tim’s hand went to his gun. You did the same. 

     Tim turned to you. “Stay here.”

     “Like hell,” you shot back, following him as he started to do a sweep of the main room.

     If that sound was someone—Paul—breaking in, you weren’t going to sit here and let Bradford fight your battles for you. 

     He signaled to let you know he was moving to the kitchen. You nodded, following. 

     “Clear,” he muttered, and moved on towards the bathroom. You were right behind him when you heard another noise, like the muffled sound of scraping of furniture, and you spun around.

     The bedroom. It was the only room in that direction that you hadn’t checked yet. 

     You glanced to Tim, but he hadn’t heard it. He was a few feet ahead of you, just now entering the bathroom. 

     You slowly stepped away from him and made your way across the apartment, down the hall and over to the closed bedroom door.

     Holding your weapon in one hand, you opened the door with the other. But, you barely had time to see what was on the other side before you were grabbed and a cloth was shoved into your mouth. 

     Your gun was ripped from your hand, and you were pushed hard onto the ground. Your wrist burned where you landed on shards of glass from the broken window

     Something smacked into the back of your head and you were dragged and thrown onto the bed on the corner. You heard the door shut. 

     Squinting up into the light, rubbing your throbbing head, your heart dropped as you saw who was in front of you. 

     “Did you miss me?” Paul sneered, spinning your gun in his hand. 

     You froze. Everything crashed into you at once. The events of the last time you saw your ex-boyfriend sped through your mind. Suddenly, you were scared and 18 again, at the mercy of this man. 

     “I guess you got my man’s message,” Paul continued. “Because you don’t exactly look shocked to see me. Scared, of course, but not shocked.”

     Coming back to yourself, you scrambled up onto your knees, ready to knock him out.

     Paul shook his head, laughing. “No, no. If you move even an inch I’ll shoot you right in the forehead.”

     You sat back down, your heart thumping in your chest as you scanned the room for a way out. Some way to get the upper hand on him. You had been trained for this.

     “Listen to me,” he continued, his hand coming to the gag in your mouth. You flinched away from him. “I know there’s someone in here with you. If you try to scream to alert them, I will also shoot you.  I’d like to play with you first before I put a bullet in your brain but, hey, I’m not picky. Is that clear?”

     You nodded, trying to measure how fast you could knock the weapon out of his hand before he could take a shot at you. Paul took the cloth out of you mouth.

     You gasped in air. “Backup’s going to be in here any second and then you’re going back to prison.”

     Tim would notice you were gone. He had to. 

     “Oh, I don’t think so,” Paul smiled. “I’ll be long gone and you’ll be long dead before that happens.”

     You glanced towards the door. What was taking him so long?

     Suddenly, Paul reached forwards and gripped your face in his hand. “Just as beautiful as I remember. It was such a shame things had to end with us as they did. How did that happen again? Oh, that’s right. You betrayed me.”

     “And that was the best decision I ever made,” you spat. 

     Paul backed up, shaking his head. “You’ve gotten feistier, baby. It’ll make this so much more fun for me.”

     He stepped back towards you, his face inches from yours, sneering. “This’ll be just like old times.”

     Bam! The door to your bedroom busted open. Bradford rushed in, taking in the situation. You breathed a sigh of relief.

     “Get down on the ground!” Tim growled.

     Paul froze for only a second, fear flashing across his face, but it was enough. You lunged, wrestling the gun out of his hands, your wrist protesting. 

     You trained it on him. Paul was surrounded.

     “You have five seconds to get on the ground before I shoot you,” Tim bit out, his expression murderous.

     “Come on, baby, you’re not going to let Officer Buzzkill treat me like that, are you?” Paul appealed to you. 

     You leveled your gaze on him, ignoring his words. “You heard him. Get on the ground.”

     Paul slowly knelt, never taking his eyes off of you. Tim charged him, pulling out handcuffs and locking them around his wrists. 

    You took a moment to be amused—of course Tim had off-duty cuffs. 

    “So this ends the way it starts, huh?” Paul shook his head. “You getting me locked up?”

     “Just like old times,” you echoed his earlier statement. You stayed stoic, putting your hands on your hips to hide the way they shook.

    Anger sparked in Paul’s eyes before he took on a smug expression. “You’re right. You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.”

     “Don’t listen to him, Boot,” Tim warned hauling the man up off the ground. 

     “You know I’m right,” Paul’s manic eyes bore into yours. He was enjoying every moment of this, laughter in his tone. It took all that was in you to keep your expression blank, unaffected. “You’ll always be that person I knew—the person who loved me. Because you did—love me. You could’ve walked away. But you didn’t. You just took it all like the victim you are. You pathetic bitch—”

      He was cut off abruptly as Tim slammed him face-first against the wall. Paul cried out.

     “That’s enough!” Tim shouted. “If you ever threaten—no, if you even look at (Y/l/n) again, I will hunt you down and personally remove every external limb from your body, do you understand me? (Y/n) is a million times the person you will ever be and you don’t get to make her feel small. If I didn’t think sitting in a cell for the rest of your life was a worse fate, I’d kill you right now—screw the department.”

     Your ears were ringing, your head dizzy as you tried to ground yourself. Your voice came out tiny. “Tim, stop.”

     Bradford turned to you, almost as if he had forgotten you were in the room. He was breathing hard, his fists clenched around the man in custody. 

     “And she’s not a victim,” Tim whispered, turning back to Paul, his voice right by his ear. “She’s a survivor.”

     With that, he shoved Paul back to the ground and moved over to you, his eyes roaming over your face. Your body. He took the gun out of your hands, setting it on the desk. Then, he gripped your injured wrist and you winced as he inspected it.

     “Probably hurts like hell, but you won’t need stitches. Any other injuries?”

     “Um, he hit me in the back of the head,” you felt your scalp, a lump already forming.

     Tim’s hands moved to your hair, his touch gentle, his breath on your cheek as he leaned to get a better look.

     Your own breath caught, your heart racing at the intimacy of your position. 

     “What’s the damage?” You almost whispered.

     Tim’s eyes met yours, the heat of his stare spreading through your body. “You’ll have a nasty bruise, but there’s no external bleeding.”

     Tim stepped back, and you found yourself wishing he hadn’t.

     “Are you—are you ok, Boot?” He asked carefully. 

     How did you even answer that question? You were still in shock, unable to process what had just happened. 

     “I will be,” you settled on, breathing in slowly. Exhaling.

      Tim looked like he wanted to say more but he clenched his jaw, glancing in the direction of Paul, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Maybe he had finally accepted his defeat. 

     “I’m going to call for back up, you go clean that up,” Tim gestured to the blood covering your wrist where you had landed in the broken glass. “You need help?”

     “No, I got it,” You nodded, walking towards the bathroom as you heard Tim make the call.

     “911, what’s your emergency?”

     “This is off-duty officer Tim Bradford, badge 34831. I need a unit to my location for a 126. Suspect in custody. Code 4.”

      Tim’s voice faded as you made your way down the hall, shutting the bathroom door after you to access the medicine cabinet behind it.

     You took out the necessary supplies and began cleaning the wound. You stopped in front of the sink, letting your burning eyes close for a moment, massaging your temples. 

     Now that you were alone, you let yourself collapse, bracing your hands against the counter 

     Images flooded your senses. 

     The gag. Paul hitting you from behind. You, young and frightened, huddled on the ground. That gleam in his eyes.

     Your eyes snapped open, your breath coming out fast.

     He’s in custody. You told yourself. He can’t hurt you anymore. 

     You looked at your reflection in the mirror staring wearily back at you, your hands still shaking as you brushed your hair back from your face. Was it hot in here or was it just you?

      Turning your attention back to your wrist, you took a deep breath and continued to dab at the wound.

      You reached for the bandages on the counter. A sheen of sweat broke out on your forehead as you wrapped your arm. 

      You pictured Paul’s grip on you. His words rang in your ears. 

     You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.

     The room tilted. You swayed on your feet so you sunk down to the ground, leaning your head against the cabinet, the cool wood pressing against your head. 

     You tried to slow your erratic breathing but you couldn’t. You couldn’t—

     The sound of footsteps and voices carried through the door. You were vaguely aware that it was probably the backup here to take Paul away.

     You closed your eyes, your throat tight, you pulse thundering in your ears.

     I’m ok, you tried to tell yourself. I’m ok. I’m ok.

     You were unaware how long you sat like this. You had no concept of time. Your thoughts were wild, images flashing in and out, unable to form conscious ideas. Every breath sending a sharp pain through your body. 

     “Boot?”

     The muffled voice was closer than the others had been. 

     “Boot?” The voice was louder now. You registered Tim at the door. He knocked once. Twice. 

     “Boot, I’m coming in,” he shouted, his voice laced with worry. The door was shoved open. 

     “Dammit,” he cursed, seeing your state. You felt him getting closer to you, but you didn’t look up as he knelt by you, his concerned expression taking in yours.

     “Hey, look at me,” Tim coaxed. “(Y/l/n), breathe.”

     He seemed miles and miles away. There was a pause.

     “Hey, Boot, I got another test for you,” he spoke quickly, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I want you to tell me the most annoying person we work with.”

     “What?” You rasped, barely hearing him. 

    “Bishop’s an easy target,” he said. “And Lopez is a slob, so you can’t go wrong there. West’s got the whole daddy issues thing. Don’t even get me started on Nolan—”

     You swallowed hard, your mouth feeling dry.

     “And then there’s me. I mean, I’m annoying right?”

     You breathed a shaky laugh, opening your eyes slowly. 

     Tim smiled. “Oh so you agree? It’s ok, Boot, you can say me. Go ahead, I can take it.”

     When you didn’t say anything, Tim kept talking. “Personally I’d go for Detective Coleman. The man makes double what I do and I’m convinced he doesn’t own a decent looking tie.”

     “L-like the—the green one from last week,” you managed, trying to slow your breathing.

     “Leprechauns would call it tacky,” Tim agreed. “Now, since we’ve discussed this from all angles I’m going to need you to choose wisely. Because this is going to go on your evaluation for today.”

     You gulped. “Are—are you going to get me fired if I say you?”

     Tim let out a quiet, relieved laugh. “I knew it. Guess who’s going back to long-sleeves on Monday?”

     “In this heat wave? You—you wouldn’t dare,” you joked, sniffing.

     “I don’t know, I am the most annoying person you work with—sounds like something I might do.”

     You laughed again, this time the sound coming out less strained. You focused on taking deep breaths, feeling your heart rate return to normal. 

     “There you go.” Tim stood up, offering his hand to you for the second time that day. You gripped his arm as he pulled you up onto shaky legs.

     “Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed to have had your TO see you like this now that your head was clearer. 

     “For what, doing my job?”

     You smiled weakly at him, running a hand along your forehead. “Sorry for um—”  

     “Having a normal reaction to a highly emotional situation? Don’t apologize for being human,” Tim said firmly, his forehead creased.

     “So, he’s gone?” You’re voice came out small.

     Tim’s expression softened. “He’s gone.”

     You nodded again, looking at the floor.  Tim sighed, reaching an arm out. “Come here.”

You took a step towards him and then you were in his arms, his embrace strengthening you as he rubbed your back. You stood there like that, not wanting this to end. Not wanting to put distance between you again. Finally, he pulled back and looked down at you, his gaze weighted, before taking a few steps towards the door. You looked over Tim’s shoulder.

     “Hey, (Y/n), look at me.” Tim said. You brought your gaze up to meet his. “He is never going to hurt you again, ok? I’ll make sure of that.”

      You let your eyes fall closed, feeling ashamed that you had been so affected. That Tim had to handle all of this for you. “I know. And I’ll understand if after…all this, you don’t see me fit to—to be a police officer anymore.”

     Tim’s eyes hardened, his voice hardening with them. “With all do respect, Boot, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. I meant every word of what I said back there—you’re a survivor. All I saw tonight is that you are a brave and intelligent woman who just so happens to have a scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. Don’t let it define you because then he wins. You’re a great cop, (Y/l/n). It’s rookies like you who make the force as strong as it is.”

     You listened to Tim speak. He sounded so…passionate. Bishop’s words came back to you.

     Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.

     You desperately wanted that to be true, now more than ever. He’d been so kind to you in this past hour—staying with you, rescuing you, reassuring you, bringing you back from whatever dark place you had just been in. 

     And then this. Talking about you like he…like he really cared about you. And maybe it was just because he felt like as your training officer he had to protect you. But in the moment, it felt like maybe it could be more than that. 

    “So what I’m hearing is, I’m getting a promotion?” You teased finally, brushing your hair back from your damp face, breaking the silence. 

     Bradford put up a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you still have a lot to learn from me.”

     You sighed. This was normal, this was comfortable. How you and Tim always acted with each other. You were both relieved and disappointed at the change back into familiar territory. 

     You ran a hand through your hair, stifling a yawn. Saying today had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century.

     “Now come on,” Tim flicked his head in the direction of the door. “It’s way past my bedtime.”

     “Let me guess, nine p.m. sharp every night?” You teased.

     “That’s not true.”

     You raised an eyebrow at him.

     “Nine-thirty,” he admitted. 

     You giggled, following Tim out of the bathroom and into the hallway which led to the living room.

     You glanced at your bedroom as you passed it, trying not to think about what had happened in there. It was over now, you told yourself. 

     “Since my room is kind of a crime scene, I guess we’re both crashing out here,” you sighed, gesturing to the couch. 

      Silence filled the room and you immediately realized your mistake, cheeks flaming. 

     “Or, right, I guess you can go now. Danger’s over.”

     “Are you kidding?” Tim said. “And get to bed even later? I’m not going anywhere.”

     You stepped into the living room. You were glad Tim was staying. You felt safer with him here, even though you knew it was irrational. 

     “I’ll get the blankets and stuff,” you said, turning back the way you’d came.

     “Let me go with you,” Tim offered.

     “I would but they’re in the closet and I don’t want it to trap you or something,” you said. 

     “You think I can’t take a closet full of your crap? Bring it on,” Tim challenged and you led him down the hall. 

     A few minutes later you returned to the living room, blankets and pillows in tow. Tim helped you pull out the couch bed—you were grateful you’d opted for this couch instead of a regular one—and you stood back, admiring your work. 

     “Take the couch,” you told him. “It was your bed originally.”

     “Not gonna happen.” Tim crossed his arms. “It’s your house. And you’re injured.”

     “I’m fine. And where are you going to sleep? The floor?” You asked him. 

     Tim scanned the room and then sat down on the chair across from the couch-turned-bed. 

     “Are you sure you’re ok on that?” You asked. It didn’t exactly look comfortable for spending hours on.

     “Trust me, Boot, you got the short end of the stick. Have fun sleeping on plywood.” 

      You smiled. “So, what, you’re just going to sit over there and watch me sleep?”

     “I can leave, if you’re—”

     “No,” you’re voice came out faster and more sharp than you’d intended. “I mean, you came all this way, I don’t want you to have to get an Uber home at this hour.”

     You climbed into bed, aware that you were still in your clothes, but not caring enough to change. 

     “We should get some sleep, it’s been a long night,” Tim sighed. He got up and turned the lights off, darkness filling the room. 

     “Damn, boot,” you heard Tim’s voice even though you couldn’t see him anymore. “It’s pitch black in here. You don’t sleep with a light or anything?”

     “Well I don’t usually sleep in my living room,” you pointed out. Then you stifled a laugh. “Wait a minute. Is Officer Tim Bradford afraid of the dark?”

     Tim scoffed. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

     “Your secret’s safe with me,” you teased.

     “There is no secret,” Tim shot back.

     You winked. “Exactly.”

     “You’re impossible.”

     “Thank you.” You smiled.

     The room fell silent. You heard him sit back down. 

     You laid back, staring up at the ceiling. The seconds ticked by. 

    “Do you—do you think he really would’ve shot me?” You asked, finally.

     “I don’t know,” Tim admitted. “He clearly thought you guys had unfinished business. But guys like that get high on fear—on desperation. He couldn’t have that if you were dead. In his mind, he’d be losing his power over you.”

     He paused. 

     “Besides, I don’t think he would’ve gotten the chance,” Tim said. “He clearly underestimated the badass-ness of his opponent.”

     You snorted. “Did you just say ‘badass-ness’?”

     “It’s a word!” Tim defended. 

     You laughed, turning over on your side. 

     “But seriously, if you ever need anything, you can always talk to me,” Tim said, sounding earnest. “I mean it.”

     “I may just take you up on that,” you responded. “Do you tell that to all your rookies?”

     You could barely make out Tim’s frame in the dark. “No, not all of them.”

     “I’m going to take that as I’m special,” you said. 

     Your next words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.   

    “You know, Lopez and Bishop had this crazy idea that you had feelings for me,” you said, staring up at the ceiling. “But I told them it was just that—crazy.”

     Tim didn’t speak.

     “It is crazy right?” You asked. You had to know. He still was silent. “Right?”

     “Boot, look—” Bradford started. His voice came out rough, as if he hadn’t talked in days. Your heartbeat was a deafening roar in your ears. 

     “Tim?”

     You could hear more than see Tim’s movements. He stood, pacing the length of the room. Sat back down. Stood up again. Sat. 

     “Dammit, Boot, I can’t do this,” he finished. “I can’t do this right now, (Y/n).”

     Your pulse quickened. He hadn’t denied it. 

     You stood up. 

     And maybe it was having to deny your attraction to your TO for seven months. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the attack earlier. Maybe it was because the darkness felt safe and secret—made you feel like you could do anything. Maybe you were just too eager after his small encouragement—or, lack of discouragement.

     But, whatever the reason, you walked over to where Tim sat, kneeled down, looked into his confused, strained eyes, and kissed him. 

     Tim froze, his lips still against yours. And then, almost as if he was afraid you would vanish or startle, he placed his hand gingerly on your waist, and leaned into the kiss.

     And he was kissing you back. Tim Bradford was kissing you back. 

     His free hand went to your hair, deepening the kiss as he gripped you closer. He kissed you like he had been waiting a lifetime.

     It was desperate and raw and passionate—it was perfect.

     You broke apart, both gasping for breath.       

     “Listen, Boot,” Tim started. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You’ve had a long and confusing day—”

     You interrupted him. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. But I’m not confused about this.”

     You brought your lips to his again. This time he didn’t hold back. He pulled you closer to him and you felt the warmth of him through his shirt. 

     When you came apart again, he was smiling. 

     “Well, I guess I can check thinking that you hate me off my daily checklist,” you whispered. 

     “I don’t hate you, Boot,” Tim said. “I actually hate how much I don’t hate you.”

     You studied the planes of his face, the light from the hallway illuminating his eyes. His lips. His jawline.

     “Boot—”

     “If you’re going to say that this is a bad idea, I don’t want to hear it. Not tonight,” you said. 

     “I thought that was obvious.” Tim stated matter-of-factly. “I was going to say actually I’d appreciate it if you did turn on a lamp or something, because—”

     You laughed, kissing him again. 

     “But seriously,” Tim continued. “You know we can’t do this.”

     “Why not?” You pouted. “If it’s what we both want.”

     “It’s not about what we want—we could be putting both of our careers in jeopardy.”

     You knew he was right. Of course he was right. 

     “But is it—what you want?” 

     “God yes,” Tim blurted, standing up, his voice strained. “It’s what I’ve wanted from the moment I started training you. Do you know how hard it’s been trying to put distance between us and deny every damn thing when all I wanted to do was—”

     He broke off, running a hand along his hair. 

     “Then do it.” Your heart pounded in your chest. “You’ll only be my TO for a few more months, we’ll just keep it a secret until then. No one has to know.”

     Tim looked at you. 

     “Ok you’re right, Bishop and Lopez will totally know something’s up,” you admitted.

     “I guess I’ll just have to transfer,” Tim joked.

     “What happened to ‘Tim Bradford finished what he starts’?” You asked.

     “Oh I intend to do just that,” Tim whispered. “Are we really thinking about doing this?”

     You thought about the consequences you could face—Tim could face—if it got out that you and your training officer were romantically involved. You knew it would be a huge risk—one that could get you cut from the program.

     You looked at Tim. He was watching you like he never wanted to let you go again. You thought about how long you’d wanted this, even if you didn’t fully know it until tonight.

     And the decision seemed clear.

     “Yeah,” you beamed. “Yeah I think we are.”

     He cupped your face in his hand, his fingers warm against the back of your neck. Your eyes closed against his touch. You felt comfort for the first time in hours.

     “You need rest,” Tim whispered and your eyes fluttered open. “As much as I’d love to do this all night.”

     You nodded, backing up towards your bed. Tim ran a hand through his hair again and then sat back down in the armchair.

    “What’re you doing?” You asked him.

    “Going to bed,” Tim answered, as if it was obvious. 

    “Get over here,” you gestured, rolling your eyes at him.

    “I was hoping you’d say that,” Tim smiled. 

     You climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers over both of you.

     You lay your head on Bradfords chest. You could feel his heartbeat in your ear as you closed your eyes.     

    “You know, this will kind of be like doing undercover work—minus the threat of getting killed,” you said. 

     “I don’t know about that—I wouldn’t put anything past an angry Sergeant Grey.”

     “We’ll just have to be so in-character that we never find out,” you said. 

     “I’ll make sure to be extra tough on you next shift,” Tim agreed. 

     “And that’s different from any other day how?” You shot back, sitting up. 

     “Hey, training rookies is a sacred duty and I take that very seriously. If you think I’m going to throw your education out the window simply because—”

     You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. You echoed his earlier words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

     Tim shook is head slightly, eyes roaming over your face. 

     “What?” You asked.

     “You’re so beautiful, (Y/n),” Tim breathed. “I’m so glad I can finally tell you that.”

     “Me too,” you said. “Even if it took…this for it to happen.”

     “Speaking of which, maybe I’ll take a sick day tomorrow,” Tim said. “Since there’s no way Grey—or myself—is letting you go to work. What’d you say?”

     You wanted to fight him, say you were fine and you could make it to your shift the next day. But the promise of taking a sick day with Tim was to tempting to pass up. 

     “I say I’m glad your house is being repainted,” you teased. “Because then you’ll have to stay with me.”

     Tim smiled knowingly. “My house isn’t being repainted, Boot. And I’m all yours.”

     You grinned, laying back down and resting your head back against Tim. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

     You felt safe, protected in his arms. 

     The rest would come. Dealing with what had happened tonight. Starting your secret relationship with Tim. Eventually facing everyone at work who had heard the news and would want to ask if you were ok. And you would be ok.

     But for now, this was enough. He was enough. 

     “Tim?” You whispered.

     “Hmm?”

     You struggled for words to fit the gravity of what you were feeling for him. “Thanks for…everything.”

     “What are TOs for,” Tim shrugged. 

     “Apparently keeping the night light business afloat.” You giggled at the look on Bradford’s face. 

     “Shut it, Boot.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed loves!! i’m so down bad for tim it’s not even funny 😵‍💫

[henneseyhoe]

All In A Day’s Work

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS:This Headcanon Is Nasty…I Mean Disgusting. Mean!Lewis(No seriously..he’s an asshole till like… the end lmfao), Mentor/Boss!Lewis, Dark!Lewis, Protege!Reader, Insults, Almost A Yandere!Lewis Undertone(I can’t help myself), Lewis Being A Perv, Cockwarming Orally, Spit, Power Imbalance, Dumbification(Kinda?), Pet Names (Baby, Doll, Princess, Slut), Age Gap Unspecified(21+), Public Sex (Kinda), Stalking (Mild), Dirty talk, Gagging, Brief Mention Of Anal, Reader Is Kinda Naive, Probs More Idk.

SUMMARY: They say never meet your idols..

✮✮✮✮

Mentor/Boss!lewis, who quite literally hated you.

He hated your work. He hated the way you worked. He hated your ideas. He hated the way you dressed too. How could you be in the fashion industry dressing like that, and who the hell did you think you were?

You, who looked up to him. You studied his style and cadence, he was your inspiration that kept you intrigued with art and fashion. There wasn’t a piece you have made that you didn’t imagine him praising you for, clapping from an audience of fellow famous designers as you win an award for pieces you made all by yourself. You dreamed so, so big.

Once a confident art school student who recently graduated turned a quiet, delicate thing in his presence. You needed to be that way. If you made yourself smaller, maybe he wouldn’t seek to bother you like he did daily.

It wasn’t just your liking for him and his work that made it hard to be around him, he made it his mission to make everything 10x more insufferable.

You didn’t even know why he hired you, really. There were rumors that he purposely never hired fans, stating that their inspiration from him would blind them from using their own creativity, and you made it very obvious in your interview that you were nothing short of star struck. But, the job was yours on the spot, approved and stamped by Lewis himself.

Your excitement coursed through your veins, hungry for the ideas and tips he’d give you along the way.

Sadly, you were paid just about what dust was worth. As soon as you began working It seemed you were just there to be his punching bag, something he could take his anger out on when someone, or you, most likely you, pissed him off.

Boss!Lewis, who purposely overworked you, making you type up drafts for his articles just as he came up with it in real time. You wanted desperately to make him proud, so you listened to each syllable of each word, each well calculated, evil, full of venom sentence that could end someone’s career that poured into your ears. You pay attention closely as you type, because he himself remembered everything he said, and if anything was out of place or missing from his rant, then he’d be more than pissed.

“This is all you heard? Have your ears somehow popped off your head and walked out of the building?…You wasted my time, and yours. Get out”

He’d say as he shoved the papers back into your hands, still warm from the printer. Did he even give time to actually check if they were right?

Your palms turned white with how hard you clutched the papers in your hands as you walked out, heels stabbing the marble floor with every step you took. He enjoyed seeing your display of emotion whenever he corrected you. This would toughen you up. Maybe even teach you to do things right next time.

Your ears felt hot with both embarrassment and frustration nearly every time he spoke to you. You thought working for your hero would be fun and empowering, but day by day you were proved wrong. How could someone so humble and kind on screen be so cruel to such a sweet girl like you? You were only trying..

Still, you tried harder to gain his respect by working more than you ever had, sewing till your fingers bled, drawing up new designs for him to see that you were getting better, bringing him sweet treats when you could to get even the smallest of thank yous, but again, he wasn’t too fond of your work, or you.

And god forbid you propose the possibility that maybe he was the one that was wrong, he made the mistake and you just made the mistake of following his every word and direction.

Leaning over his desk, you present to him the digital catalog for this year's spring, items of different kinds of clothing littering your computer screen as you click each one individually until he tells you to move on.

“Stop” Lewis points to a picture to halt your scrolling, your heart skipping a beat as you think, ‘Fuck…now what?’

He tsks.

“This suit is from last summer. I specifically told you last year seasons go into an archive, these are not average pieces people can just buy”

You squint, your eyes glazing the screen. “But I didn’t hear- You didn’t say that at all”

“Are you calling me a liar?”

He turned to you in his office chair and closed your laptop down, his head tilted in question. You couldn’t even look straight into his eyes to answer, it was like you saw all the souls he captured day to day screaming for mercy inside of them.

Before you could even fully get a word out he was already giving you your second warning that day.

“I suggest you watch the way you speak to me”

You did so, limiting your criticism to none. You desperately needed to keep this job, the clout, and the money from it. You knew your ideas were good, you just needed Lewis to see that. You needed a little boost, and Lewis was well aware that you couldn’t afford to lose anything you gained this year, seeing as it took you an entire one to find a company like this to take you seriously, having the honor to work as close as you do with one of Europe’s top designers. One day you hoped to be one just like him.

The company had many young workers, some directly hired by Lewis himself just like you, many with the same plans as you to become some big designer or director in the city. Some are not as hardworking as you, so you wondered why Lewis wasted time bullying you instead.

You complain to your coworkers often, thinking you’ve found some kind of friend, but are quickly corrected when you find out someone’s been snitching about what you’ve been saying about your boss around the office..

Lewis towered over you as you sat in a chair facing his desk, hands fiddling in your lap with your head hanging low in shame. This wasn’t the first time you’ve been embarrassed in this very office, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“If you spent half as much time actually doing what I tell you to do instead of wasting your energy bad mouthing me around the building, maybe you wouldn’t have to be a fucking assistant anymore” He chuckled as he flipped through a catalog of unreleased designs while pacing the floor in front of you. The tapping of his shoes synced with the hard thump of your heart, every ‘clack’ leading a loud ‘lub-dub’ that you swore everyone in the room could hear.

Stopping in his tracks, he sighs and shakes his head, neat braids that framed his face swaying with the movement. He often faked his pity, you learned that early on. He cared none if you were struggling for whatever reason, in his head you either pull yourself up by your bootstraps or sit and suffer.

“If you can’t take the little shit I give you, then how do you expect to get anywhere in life, princess? Pretty faces can only get you so far, especially when you piss off important people before you even become somebody“

You keep your head down, careful to not make the mistake of shrugging at his question like the first time he had ever asked you anything you didn’t know the answer to.

“Wow..And you’re fired”

You look up from your sweating hands, your heart skipping beats when you realize he was talking to the woman behind you.

“What? Me? But-” Her stuttering clearly didn’t help her case as she tried to find the right excuses to keep her position as head director, which would eventually become vacant regardless. Lewis spared her a glare, but it was more of a warning for her to suck it up. He hated seeing people cry.

“No one likes a snitch”

You exited that room that day with a thankfulness not even gospel could pull from you. You kept your job and your spot next to him. Dignity and pride was in question, but at least you weren’t jobless.

The next week, you focused more on yourself. You wore your own designs, hoping to catch some kind of compliments, and you did! Just not from Lewis. It was already known that Lewis hated your style, but you could at least say it wasn’t as bad as his last assistant, whom he told you dressed like, and I quote, he “walked into the closet every morning with his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back with only his mouth as an option to pick up the items to wear”...

You tried your best to dress to his liking and incorporate his style into your designs while also keeping your signatures. You spent your nights reading magazines he did interviews for to pick up on what he was feeling was in this year, but it wasn’t easy when he was so picky.

“Is that rose gold?”

“Where?.. On my watch?”

Lewis stayed silent, his eyes scanning you fully before he spoke again.

“No, on the floor” He said with sarcasm plaguing his voice, making you raise a brow.

“Take the jewelry off. It looks tarnished”

He nearly swooped you up just then to get something that actually matched your skin tone, but that’d be him just stealing company time for something more..personal.

Boss!Lewis, who soon got tired of your poor attempts at outfits and began to dress you in things he thought were good looking, giving you a box of expensive new outfits at the end of the work day, each labeled for which days you’d wear them. He even invited you over to his for a few “required” trials. Y’know, just to see how good the tailoring was.

And you were ecstatic about it. You, in YOUR idols house, getting adorned in expensive clothing you only dreamed about. It made up for everything he said to you that week to make you upset.

He took you into his very own study and told you what colors look best on you in each season of the year, gave you advice on what jewelry made you glow and the places you should put them depending on the cut of your clothes, he measured your waist, arms, legs, bust, everything, and told you what would go with your body type. Though you wished he could turn the heat up as he did so, you were starting to get a little cold in just your bra and underwear..

“Look at that…it fits you so much better than what you’re usually in”

He’d turn you to a mirror as you tried to lower the mini skirt you wore, attempting to cover more than just the cup of your ass. You could nearly feel a breeze every time he passed you by to get a look from different positions.

Apparently his favorite was from the back.

“You won’t be wearing anything I didn’t put you in from now on. Think of it like a work uniform, since you dress like the world outside is blind. Now, gimme a spin, doll”

Your new look caught the attention of other designers. Some loved the bold look, seeing it as a statement, like how fashion should be these days. They applaud you for testing out the boundaries and limits of a workplace. How professional could you be with your skirt riding up? Others were confused on why your style did an entire 180, and why they could see the valley of your breasts now.

Your answer was simple. Evolution is how the world stays afloat. If you don’t change in time and willingly, the world around you will force you to before you’re ready. Lewis told you that.

Boss!Lewis, who wished he did this so much sooner. His very own life size Barbie he could dress up and down any way he wanted. It was just an extra perk to being able to say anything to you and you still coming into work the next day.

You were beautiful before, he never denied that, all his insults were technically on your intelligence. Nonetheless, he believed he outdid himself with this idea, he could truly see your potential now. Everything you put on brought out your features so much more, it was almost dramatic, and you were starting to truly live up to the nickname he gave you. Now he wanted to know if you were just as flexible as any other doll..

Boss!Lewis, who couldn't get enough of looking at you. It was never an innocent attraction, it was never about wanting to help a protege, this was all for him and him only, the fashion industry be damned. He didn’t care about introducing you to a world of anything as soon as he got half of your clothes off.

The amount of times he was imagining fucking you in front of everybody should have been illegal. He even debated fucking you in his study when he invited you over, watching you drool dumbly with a tiny dress hanging halfway off of your waist. Your very own icon using you for what you were worth. He was already imagining things before, but the daydreams were starting to prohibit him from his duties of CEO.

He had to do something. Fucking his hand in the privacy of his office wasn’t gonna suffice forever.

Boss!Lewis, who went to bed at night thinking of you. Thinking of the ways he could bend you, how many times he could make you cum in one round. When he was with you he pondered on what kind of panties you were wearing. Were they black? Pink, maybe? Did they have a cute little bow on the front like they did when he dressed you? Were they lace and see through? So see through that he could bend you over his desk and spread your ass with his hands to see the pink peeking from behind your brown lips. God, he wanted you so fucking bad from the start.

Boss!Lewis, who started to become irrational. Wondering where you went after work, if you had anyone else to see. God knows what Lewis would do to him, or get done to him. He even followed you sometimes when he couldn’t take the wondering, you were absolutely oblivious to the Ferrari behind you at every stop.

Boss!Lewis, who didn’t need to see where your house was, you worked for him, so of course he had your address, but he needed to see what routes you took. How long would it take you to get there after he snuck into your bottom floor apartment and stole a pair of your underwear after snooping through your things, carefully placing them back where they belonged before snapping a picture or two. Money took him a long way as he bribed the security with a few bills to ensure he wouldn’t speak a word of his visit. Of course the dumb fuck agreed.

You notice your underwear going missing, but you pass it off as just misplacing them in all the other clothes that were being delivered from Lewis.

You also noticed how close Lewis was becoming, but that just made you giddy. Someone you still adored as an artist finally warming up to you.. And as a boss, he had to watch you for reasons, right?

From the time you got to work and clocked in from the time you left, he was watching from his office, glass windows so clear that you could see the condensation from his breath on it as he looked down upon his workers. When you left, his curtains were immediately pulled close.

“He’s just being a boss” “He’s always like that, right?” “Don’t think too much, this is your dream, You’ll ruin your chances with him” Your friends would say when you confided in them about the constant watching, but they didn’t understand that he wasn’t watching everyone, he was watching you. You weren’t sure you understood that he was just watching you either.

Time passed and now he didn’t just watch. He visibly followed. He touched. Brushing a singular finger up your bare arm as you worked aside him, the silver ring on his finger sent shivers straight up your spine and electricity to your core. That jump started a second heartbeat that wouldn’t settle till you walked away from him.

Boss!Lewis, who was unashamed, barely hiding the lingering stares or brushing.

“Sir?”

You’d dare to speak as he pressed himself up against your ass. It wasn’t firm, but just enough for you to feel him. Your hands were unable to move to continue writing up a list of fabrics he needed for later that week. You became aware of everything around you. The ticking of the clock on the wall was loud, the cold wood of his desk pressing on your forearms as you wrote was noticeable.

“Keep going”

He nudged with a hand on your hip as you let out a shaky breath. It was hard to work like this, you could barely believe it was happening where it was, with whom it was.

He thought you sucked at your job before, you could be no better now with him breathing down your neck, grabbing at your curves and using the excuse of just trying to feel the fabric of your clothes.

“Silk?” He asked, his hand growing dangerously close up your thighs from the rim of your dress.

Your breathing hitched, your hand hesitantly swiping his off of your thigh before you nod, trying to distract yourself from the intense staring by grabbing the nearest needle and thread, pretending to touch up a bralette in front of you that was basically already done.

Lewis smiles.

Boss!Lewis, who hadn’t gotten any better with distractions since testing his limits with you for months now. Watching you squirm, anticipating what was next was so much more satisfying than designing these days. But you? You had no room to slack.

He’d call you in his office just to watch you work, then complain about not getting enough done.

Just under your breath, you’d make smart comments to release yourself from some of the stress of the day, unable to hear his complaining for hours without a word for yourself like you used to. You didn’t say it to his face exactly, but he’d be near, his cursing prompting you to speak. You weren’t the girl you were a few months ago, the less he criticized you, the more you expressed yourself outwardly. You knew him, and he was all talk for the most part, you felt you deserved to say at least one thing even if only you knew what was said.

“Maybe if you did your job instead of looking up my skirt all day, damn perv…”

He heard you. He heard everything, remember?

“Perv?”

Perv? No, No, No. Lewis couldn’t let that slide. He wasn’t the one that was being weird, it was you. Sure, he made you dress a certain way, but it was your fault you looked like that. He was not. a fucking. pervert..Fuck.

Boss!Lewis, who made use of your mouth that had started to get smarter and bolder towards him the longer you worked for him. He kept you on your knees, under his desk with his dick stuffed in your mouth. Your jaw ached, and every time you made it known, he’d shove you down further, more spit trailing down your chin. He didn’t care if anyone knocked, or walked in. To them, it was none of their business, too scared to even mention the red bottoms slightly sticking from underneath the desk or the abrupt choking sound they’d hear in the middle of their conversation.

It just made Lewis even harder that they knew something was up. But no one was bold enough to speak up about it, scared they’d get blackballed from the industry they so desperately wanted to be in. If Lewis said they weren’t to be worked with ever…they won’t be.

After he allowed you to stand, your makeup had already smudged off, kisses trailing down his abs and a red print of your lips stained around the base of his dick so perfectly, that he took a picture of it when he went home that night and sent it to you straight from his own business number, his unbuttoned work shirt, abs and tattoos in shot and all.

You gasp when you opened it, your phone flying from your hand to the carpeted floor. You hadn’t even recovered from the events, and here he was reminding you that it definitely did happen.

‘This would be a great new tattoo, yeah? XX.

-Sir. L’

Boss!Lewis, who finally got the excuse he needed to do whatever he wanted to you. Why didn’t he just start spanking you from the beginning? Would have been easier than yelling at you, you probably would have let him so easily. All he had to tell you was it was a crucial part of discipline, of becoming your true artistic self. You would have been putty.

Boss!Lewis, who wanted to leave your panties soaked with his cum leaking out of you almost every late work night. So he did. You wouldn’t work overtime if you didn’t want that, obviously.

With every step you felt your lips glide together, making the mess so much worse. Your coworker asks why you’re walking weird the next morning, you say you sprained your ankle in your heels, but you’re fine. If they knew it was really all because your boss was creampie-ing you at nearly 2 in the morning, you’d be shamed out of the building. Climbing the ladder by sleeping with the CEO? How whorish of you.

Unfortunately, your little sessions with your beloved mentor weren’t making your days easier. How could you work properly with your panties soaked with your own arousal? Sloppy work made you upset, but so did unresolved cravings.

Boss!Lewis, who made you ride him while writing up notes as a punishment now. There was no excuse for mistakes. You had all the time you needed to double check.

“Spread your legs. Good girl. Keep going”

You complained with a whine and spread your legs further across his while continuing to bounce on him. Your thighs were burning like you had just done three sets of squats back to back, you were sweating, and the seat below you two was no dryer. Your handwriting was fucked, you couldn’t read a word back to yourself, but if you stopped, you didn’t know what he’d do next.

He caressed your back softly as you work your hips down on him, the clap of your ass against his pelvis bringing a smile to his face.

“Oh, baby…you better hope I can understand whatever’s on that paper”

Boss!Lewis, who gave you new strict rules on not talking to any male workers. It didn’t matter if they spoke to you first, you walked right by without a word, your eyes glancing upwards and spotting a familiar dark figure watching from your boss’s office.

You now had to cover up more, afraid anyone would see the hickeys that would magically appear on your neck whenever you’d leave Lewis’s office.

If the turtlenecks wasn’t a telling sign of what was going on, the sound of your voice coming out of the room sure would have been.

He began gagging you with your own thong, shoving it into your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside of you, his rings and tattoos coated with a thin layer of your cum. He licked up your neck, flicking his tongue over the darkening bruises as his fingers slid in knuckles deep.

“Be a good little slut and cum for me, okay? Can you do that for me, baby?”

You squealed into the cotton fabric in your mouth and threw your head back, your bangs falling out of your face as his fingers simultaneously pressed against your spot until your pussy was squirting like a fountain, wetting his rolled up sleeve.

That happened twice more. Eventually, he couldn’t shut you up with just a gag, but his fingers down your throat made the perfect replacement.

“You got the new designs all wet. I suggest you restart on these as soon as you get home, okay?”

12 hours wasn’t nearly enough time for you to get those sketches done, but you did it anyway, thanks to coffee and binge worthy shows.

You did so good, this was just another excuse for him to be able to finish inside you again, a hand wrapped around your throat to keep you still in the small office chair as he sung your praises about how much you were growing under his teachings.

He’d caress your face sweetly before sliding his thumb into your mouth, watching you suck on command. He loved the way you did as you were told without question.

“My pretty baby. You take it so well”

So proud you didn’t even need prepping from his fingers this time, your pussy greedily swallowed his dick and allowed him to fuck the way he wanted to. Feverishly. Every touch from him so fucking needy that he could just bite you. Your ass would be next, the size of him deliciously stretching you out with the help of your own slick and his spit as lubricant.

Maybe this little exchange was making you better as an artist. It seemed so. The insults were coming less and less, your designs were getting accepted more and more.

Boss!Lewis, who took you out to celebrate your growth, gifting you a ring with a tiny L carved on the inside of it and red bottom shoes that would stun the office. He treated you with the utmost respect with the paparazzi watching, making sure the image was nothing more than him going out to eat with one of his protégés innocently tagging along. Then, he took you back to his place and fucked you like a slut.

Your mouth was left open so wide you were convinced it would eventually lock in place like that. He didn’t even let you make it to the bed, the floor and your arched back was all he needed to get as deep as he wanted inside of you. You could scream all you wanted there. You were sure his maids got the hint to stay away from the foyer by now.

After he finished using you how he wanted, stuffing you full with his cum until he was perfectly satisfied, he’d kiss you on your forehead as if nothing had happened and you’d thank him. For tonight, and all your opportunities.

“I think someone deserves a promotion now”

Finally, you were where you needed to be.

✮✮✮✮

💌— I really hope yall liked this cause I cannot get Boss!Lewis off of my fucking mind 😭 I need him so bad yall like I literally had to FORCE myself to stop writing more smut in this 💔💔💔💔

[merbear25]

With a s/o who doesn’t celebrate their birthday (Luffy, Law, Corazon, Caesar)

a/n: My birthday is later this month, and I haven’t celebrated it in many years. The day isn’t particularly joyous for me for many reasons, so I decided to write something for myself. Idk if anyone else feels the same about their birthday but hope you enjoy this nonetheless.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, fluff, some angst, an ounce of modern au with Cora’s

Luffy

With your birthday drawing near, you were merely hoping that the day would pass without a hitch. However, it just so happened that Luffy got the idea to ask you when your birthday was.

You didn’t want to lie to him, so you gave him the correct date. He looked at you, as if processing how close the day was. When it dawned on him that it was practically just around the corner, he gasped and got excited.

“We gotta celebrate then! We can have a big cake and lots of food!”

“No, that’s okay.” Your refusal was kind, which meant it wasn’t interpreted how you intended.

“It’s fine! We’ll get Sanji to do it!”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” you protested.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” He tilted his head to the side in interest.

“Well, I don’t celebrate my birthday.”

Complete and utter shock washed over him. How could someone as amazing as you not take full advantage of one of the best days for anyone. “What! Why not?” He shouted.

You put your hands up to hush him, so as not to alert the others that Luffy was getting excitable. “It’s just a normal day for me. Not anything worth celebrating in that sense.”

“Not anything worth…” He hopped down from the counter he was sitting on and clamped his hands on your shoulders. “You more than anyone should be able to celebrate yourself!”

The sudden intensity in his eyes put you a bit on edge, although the passion he had in his words struck you to your core. “Thank you but really. It’s no big deal”

Unconvinced by that, his eyes kept their hold on you. With not much else being said, he left the kitchen to join the others.

Unsure how well that actually went, you chose to brush it off.

As your birthday was coming to an end, you realized that the others were nowhere to be found. When you opened the kitchen door, you were met with a table filled with all of your favorite foods and everyone chatting and having a grand time.

“What’s all this?” You asked Sanji

“Hm? Just thought we could indulge a little.”

Taking your seat, you soaked up the atmosphere—your friends enjoying themselves, filling the room with laughter as you shared a meal together. You leaned over to Luffy to express your gratitude.

Even with his mouth full of food, he managed to smile just as affectionately as any other time.

Law

He was observant, which was one of the things you both loved and hated about him depending on whether you were trying to be sneaky. This time was no different; with his eyes focusing on you one too many times, you got the feeling that he’d noticed something was wrong.

“I’m fine,” you broke the silence.

“I didn’t say anything.” His gaze remained fixed on you.

“But you were thinking it.”

He inched closer trying to get a better read on you, his eyes seemingly burrowing into your soul.

“Okay, okay,” you huffed, “It’s my birthday. It’s coming up soon and I just…I just don’t want anyone making a big deal about it.”

As your eyes hesitantly met his, the cold stare he had had shifted into one with compassion. 

“I can relate to that,” his words alluded to more pain than he’d probably anticipated. “Sometimes it’s easier to treat it just like any other day.”

You nodded, feeling the tears build up in your eyes. Of course, you were well aware of the hardships he had to overcome. The adversities either of you faced were your own. The experiences that weighed on you in different ways and yet were still parts of each other you could easily connect with.

“We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t up for it.” Even with the cool tone, the support he was giving you was unmistakable.

Having spent your birthday the way you had intended, Law approached you. Looking up at him, you gave him a meek smile—-the conflict of not celebrating your birthday this year didn’t quite sit well with you.

“I want to show you something.” Offering you his hand, his touch was tender as guided you to the deck.

Stepping outside, you were met with the Aurora Borealis. “We were passing by at the perfect time. Thought you might like to appreciate them with me.”

With the inner-strife you’d been dealing with subsiding, you happily took a seat next to him. Gazing up at the beauty swirling in the sky, you leaned your head against his shoulder.

He rested his head against yours, adding a sincere, “Happy birthday.”

Corazon

He was one of the most attentive individuals who could pick up on how you were feeling before you yourself had even realized. As the days came and went, it became more and more obvious that something was weighing on you.

Coming over to where you were, he sat beside you. With the softness never leaving his demeanor, you couldn’t help but melt from the warmth he radiated. 

When you gave him a smile, he placed his hand on top of yours. “How are you?” Such a simple question yet one that held vague concern.

“I’m alright,” you chuckled. “Don’t I look like it?” Even your playfulness seemed to be a front you were putting up.

He hesitated, taking a moment to notice the subtleties in your voice and expression. “No,” he spoke with sincerity. 

Breaking eye contact, you looked down at your fingers laced with his. “My birthday is coming up, and I’m not quite sure how I feel about it.”

He watched your fingers trace his hand before bringing them to his lips. “I can sympathize with that.” With his eyes meeting yours again, he led the conversation with his heart. “But you of all people deserve to feel special on their birthday.”

“You always know how to pull at my heartstrings.” The smile you wore trembled as your chest swelled with a heaviness.

“Aw, I didn’t mean to upset you!” He pulled you in for a hug.

Holding you closely, he made a suggestion, “We don’t have to have a formal celebration, but what about getting something to eat? Just the two of us?”

“I’d like that.”

When the day came, Rosinante drove the both of you to a secluded spot on top of a hill. Turning to smile at you, you wondered if this was the spot.

“Oh, yeah, this is it!” While he took the glasses and packed food from the back seat, he pointed to the treetops. “When the sun sets, the light peeks through those trees just perfectly enough to shine on the water, making it look like it’s sparkling.”

When he handed you some of the food, you smiled as you pressed it against your lips. 

As the sun set and the water resembled crystals, you allowed yourself to appreciate how special this day could be. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Caesar

Humble and wanting to remain out of the spotlight: ways one could never use to describe him. He took full advantage of his special day, wanting to be the main character. After being his other half for a few months and celebrating his birthday, it got him wondering.

“I don’t believe you’ve ever told me when your birthday is.” The careful phrasing was intentional—purposefully pushing off any blame for not asking sooner.

“I haven’t,” your tone was just slightly indifferent towards the topic but was light-hearted enough not to be mistaken as taking offense. “It’s in two weeks.”

He blinked at you, not fully understanding why you hadn’t brought it up sooner, why he had to be the one to ask. “Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”

You shrugged, delivering the answer in a cool tone, “It doesn’t hold many fond memories. It’s just another day for me.”

It was absolutely ludicrous to hear you say that. The one most suited to stand by his side not allowing themselves the proper celebration they clearly deserved had him stumped.

He chose not to pry, instead thinking of little ways he could help you feel special on your day. He easily gathered tidbits of information to make this coming birthday one you could look back on with fondness.

While that day began like any other, Caesar was finishing the small preparations to surprise you. When you finished your work, he went to collect you, guiding you to the kitchen.

“Ah!” He feigned irritation. “Those idiots made such a mess. Wait here.” He turned the corner, shuffling about the kitchen. 

When the lights turned off, you called out to him. Peering behind the corner, you stood there for a moment before you saw a faint glow coming from behind the counter.

“What’s this?” Your heartbeat quickened from the hope that he’d planned something for you.

“I know that you don’t quite like your birthday, but there’s no harm in having cake now, is there?”

There was a faint tightness in your chest from the sweet sentiment. As you came closer, you noticed that it was your favorite flavor. With the soft glow of the candles flickering on top of his unusually kind gesture, you looked up to see him smiling—nervously awaiting your reaction.

“No harm at all.” Although your smile was weak, the emotion held in your voice and the affection in your eyes spoke volumes. “Thank you, Caesar.” 

The heartfelt appreciation made him giddy with joy as you happily blew out the candles.

[crazyyluvr]

Dealing With the Problem = Breaking the Problem’s Nose

pairing: remus lupin x slytherin!reader

summary: You punched another student because he was annoying. Not because you were defending Remus Lupin. Totally not.

genre: crushing, fluff?, kind of enemies to lovers but not really (reader hates Remus but Remus likes reader), sunshine x grumpy trope?

wc: 2.1k

content: reader can throw a punch, gn!reader, there’s a fight, a lot of cursing, remus gets insulted, remus is a simp fr, reader is very... salty? idk how to describe them.

note: woah, two posts in one day? so rare. I wrote this without any particular idea in mind, but I want to show my appreciation for Remus, because we love Remus <3

oneshot under the cut :: not proofread

Remus Lupin was interesting.

He was not like his other friends; he was quiet, more reserved than them. The Marauders were the heartthrobs of Hogwarts, and Remus Lupin had his own group of “fans” that found his certain allure appealing.

You hated him.

The times when you would had the unfortunate requirement to talk to him, he was infuriating. He would send that damned smirk of his your way even when you were obviously about to blow a fuse. He would use those annoyingly smooth pickup lines on you when you were literally insulting him. He compliments you and uses pet names on you that makes other people do a double take on you from how he treated you like you two were dating.

He may have been the quieter one among his friends (besides Peter of course), but he could act as embarrassingly as Potter and Black do.

You were going to kill him someday. If he doesn’t kill you first with his smooth words and soft gaze.

As much as you hate him, your body betrays you. All the time.

Your cheeks flush when he compliments you. Your knees go weak when he calls you dove. Your brain lags when he uses one of his pickup lines that you never seem to predict.

The reactions were out of your control. I mean, if anyone else treated you the way Lupin treated you, you’d probably act the same.

Right?

Wrong, because you hate everyone besides your friends in Slytherin, no matter how kind they act towards you. Lupin just happened to take a page out of your house’s mascot and slither through your walls to become an exception.

Wrong, because you never would have punched someone purely out of instinct after a particularly horrible insult.

You were disappointed in yourself. You were doing well in restraining your anger during the past few years in Hogwarts, so why did you have to snap now out of all times?

No matter how annoyed you were at yourself, it couldn’t overpower the satisfaction you got from finally shutting Avery up.

So, how did it happen?

Let’s rewind.

—————

You were taking a stroll in the grass with Barty, who was always willing to accompany you on your spontaneous walks. The two of you were just talking about people you particularly hated in Hogwarts until you came across the two that placed particularly high on both your lists: Avery and Snape.

Being in the same house as the two vermin didn’t make you or Barty dislike them any less, especially you. You were one of the precious few halfbloods in Slytherin, and they never failed to insult you about it.

You didn’t care about blood statuses, though. But that didn’t matter do them.

They targeted you constantly, picking on you, tripping you in the hallway, spilling drinks on your back, and other petty things.

You always bit back with your words. You knew that if you tried to deal with it physically, you might be expelled from the school for violence.

Thank goodness Pandora, Barty, and Regulus ere always there to restrain you. Especially Barty. He was your closest friend, and although he wanted to beat them up himself, he didn’t want you getting in trouble.

Today seemed to be an exception.

“Oh, speaking of,” you cut Barty off, your gaze souring as you caught sight of the two you were just ranting about.

Barty followed your gaze, his lip curling in disgust. They were crowded over someone, but the tree beside them obscured your view of the victim. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing wickedly and pushing the person.

“Are we going?” Barty knew you well. He knew you were going to do something about it. He just hoped that you were going to use your words instead of your fists, because he hasn't finished his strategy on how to hide bodies in school just yet.

“Unfortunately,” you sighed, picking up your pace, Barty a few feet behind you to give you space. You may hate everyone in school, but not enough to leave them in the clutches of people like Snape and Avery.

“What kind of fucked up entertainment did you two idiots decide to do today?” You called, making the two turn your way.

“Ah, just the person we were talking about,” Avery sneered. “What do you want now? You here to check up on your boyfriend?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. You stepped to the side a little and groaned internally when you saw who Snape and Avery’s target was today: Remus Lupin.

His face was contorted in anger, his clenched fists peeking out from his slightly oversized sweater. Whatever Snape and Avery were teasing him about must have really struck a nerve in him.

“Leave them out of this,” he warned.

“What’re you going to do about it, huh?” Snape taunted him, approaching you. “C’mon loverboy. Not so strong now that your bodyguards aren’t here, ain’t that right?”

“Why don’t you boys take a break from being dickheads, yeah?” You said, testing out the chance of a diplomatic ending. “Go find some other place to dump your bullshit on, preferably the greenhouses. They could use the fertilizer.”

Avery made a beeline towards you, partially shoving Snape out of his way to grab your collar and pull you toward him. He was practically steaming.

Diplomacy was out the window, I suppose.

Barty a step towards you, as did Remus, but Snape stopped the lanky boy and you put your hand up to make Barty pause. You could handle yourself.

“You wanna say that again, bitch?” Avery seethed.

You had to restrain yourself from puking in his face after you felt drops of his saliva hit your cheeks, but you stood your ground. “I said you’re full of shit. Did some of it get in your ears or something?”

Avery looked like he wanted to hit you, but instead he leaned in your ear. You cringed at the lack of distance, but it quickly morphed into something else as he whispered, “You wouldn’t be barking as much if you let your ugly ass boytoy do the talking for you. He’s the one better with words, eh? Bet he uses them so you would want to fuck him. Tell me, is his dick as deformed as his face is?”

Avery never got his response as you reeled your fist back and let it fly, making direct contact with his nose with a satisfying crack.

—————

“I don’t believe it,” Madame Pomfrey tsked in disappointment, dabbing a paste on the bruise around your eye. You had to suppress a wince, since the rest of your body was too sore. “You should know better than to start a brawl in the courtyard.”

“They had it coming,” you muttered, making the nurse dab with a little more force than necessary. “Ouch.”

"You could have sustained worse injuries than this, stupid child!" She scolded, like a mother reprimanding a disobedient child. And like a disappointed child, you stayed silent and hung your head in slight guilt.

Only slight guilt because you still firmly believed that the two idiots had it coming to them.

You heard a moan of pain, and you could have sworn that you saw Madame Pomfrey roll her eyes. "You don't have that much severe injuries, so I'll check up on you in a while after I treat Mr. Snape and Mr. Avery."

You nodded. Before leaving, the nurse turned to Remus Lupin, who was icing a bruise on his cheek on the cot beside yours. "Watch over them, and after a few minutes, apply ice to their bruises," she instructed, and the Gryffindor nodded.

"Treasure, how're you doing?" Barty called from his cot across from you. He had sprained his ankle from kicking Snape hard in the nuts, and although he winced in pain occasionally when he moved, his grin told you that he didn't regret what he did.

"I'm okay B," you replied, grimacing slightly as one of the pulled muscles on your back acted up.

Remus noticed your flinch, and approached you worriedly. He was better off than you and Barty, the bruise on his face the only thing that he obtained from the fight. "Are you sure?" He asked, concerned. You didn't like how soft his eyes were as he gazed at you, or how your chest squeezed slightly at his worry.

"I'm fine, Lupin," you quipped, although your voice lacked its usual venom.

Remus hummed, unconvinced. He turned to the bedside and grabbed the ice that Madame Pomfrey left for you and held it out for you to grab.

You scoffed. "I said I'm fine. No need to baby me."

Remus rolled his eyes slightly. "And I don't believe you. Besides, the nurse said to ice your bruise after a few minutes. A few minutes has already passed, and frankly, she can do more damage to me than you can in this state."

You grumbled, turning your head. Your pride made you stubborn, as it did to many, but thank goodness Remus Lupin has had training in dealing with prideful companions.

He closed in on you, holding your face by the chin and tilting it towards him. You tried to fight back, but his grip was firm, so you simply sighed and resigned your fate. You could only hope that the observant boy didn't notice the warmth on your cheeks.

He gently placed the ice on your eye.

"Sorry," He murmured when you hissed at the sudden cold.

You purposefully averted your gaze from him, eyes fixated on the wheels of another cot.

That didn't stop you from spotting Remus's fixated stare on you from your periphery.

"Stop looking at me like that, Lupin," You spat, still refusing to make direct eye contact with him. "What do you want?"

"Why did you punch Avery?" He asked, finally making your eyes snap up to him. "He said something that provoked you. What did he say?"

You scoffed. "The usual bullshit that comes out of his mouth."

"I heard that."

"Fuck off," you called to the curtained cot where Avery currently resided. Madame Pomfrey hushed you disapprovingly form behind the curtains.

"I don't think that's true," Remus said, eyes narrowed as he studied you like a problem he couldn't solve, an enigma he wanted to understand.

You looked at him in silence for a moment, before heaving a sigh and looking away again. "He insulted you," you mumbled, words faint and hard to decipher, but Remus got the general meaning.

Well, judging from his grin, he got the general meaning.

"What did you say?" He asked. You looked at him, offended. Remus Lupin was teasing you.

"Clean your ears next time, Lupin," you shot a glare at him, but it didn't have as much heat behind it as you would have wanted.

"Nope, don't try to escape from this," he chuckled, using his hand on your chin to make your visible eye make contact with his brown ones again. "What did you say, dove?"

You groaned. You absolutely loved hated the effect this boy had on you.

"He insulted you, Lupin," You snapped, cheeks blazing at this point. "Happy?"

Remus's playful expression melted into one of disbelief. "You punched him because... he insulted me?"

"Salazar, you really are deaf," you rolled your eyes. "That's what I said, isn't it?"

Remus seemed to still not be able to wrap his head around the idea. You, the person he's been pining over the past few months, defended him. And got hurt because of it.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice sincere.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you apologizing for? I started that fight with my own free will, and they deserved every cut and bruise they received."

"Amen," Barty replied. He was obviously eavesdropping on your conversation, and you couldn't say that you were surprised.

"But still." His lips tilted downwards along with his gaze. Salazar give me strength, he's pouting. "You were dragged into it when they were picking on me. I could have —"

"Yes, there are many things that you could have done, but you can't reverse time to do them now, Lupin," You said severely. "I don't need you apologizing for things I don't regret doing."

Remus looked up at you hopefully. "You don't regret defending me?"

You blinked, realizing the implications your words gave off. You played it off with a huff. "Whatever."

"You didn't deny it," Remus teased, a small smile on his face. He still felt guilty that you were hurt because you were defending him, but you didn't regret it. That had to count for something.

"Whatever, Lupin."

"Call me Remus."

"No."

"Please."

"Absolutely not."

"Dove?"

"... Fine, Remus."

"Heh, I knew you liked me."

"What — I never said I did!"

"But you never said you didn't."

"I —"

A retching noise was heard. "Ugh, your lovey-doveyness is making me sick."

"Shut up, Barty!"

[star-girl69]

i think aphrodite kid reader x clarisse is simply just better??? like the trope is just superior??? like, we have clarisse who is tough, and mean and one of the strongest people at camp, then we have reader who is kind and compassionate and really doesn’t care all that much about fighting. so naturally, clarisse is super protective and treats reader like a princess?? how could people dislike it 😔😔

no exactly and i actually must write about this - basically this is just all about the little things clarisse does for her perfect princess angel daughter of aphrodite gf (me!!!!!!)

okay as payment for my absence please accept some shitty headcanons I LOVE YOU ALL BYEEEE

she’s just always DOING THINGS FOR YOU

she’s so perceptive and she always knows exactly what you want and need even if you don’t know it yourself

like if you like wearing high heels one) clarisse genuinely wonders what is wrong w you

she sees no practicality in them bc there isn’t lol

but also she’s like omg???? MY GF feels safe enough around me to wear shoes she can’t run in???? WHAT JOY!!!!!!!!!

and you’ll come back to your cabin being all ugh omg my feet hurt so bad laying on the bed and putting your feet UP

and clarisse is like “well i could have told you that”

excuse me????

“don’t get me wrong baby you look gorgeous and i love you wearing heels but it’s your funeral”

“DIE”

she just laughs and takes your shoes off

she’ll continue to bully you as she’s literally massaging your feet like ok girl yeah we see you

clarisse is also a MENACE about making sure you eat

“did you eat today?”

“babe you SAW me at lunch”

“just making sure….”

you’re just so kind and amazing and clarisse loves you so much but you are not the best at fighting!

she is constantly stressed when you’re not by her side

bc no one loves you like her who will protect you 💔💔💔💔

when someone takes advantage of you she gets so PISSED OFF

bc it’s not like someone is beating you up it’ll be like someone is using you as their personal therapist or smth and you’re just like “pls go speak to an actual professional wtf 😭😭😭”

and she’s so pissed off bc WHY IS THIS BITCH PSYCHOLOGICALLY AND EMOTIONALLY TORTURING HER GIRL??????

she’s not afraid to beat people up for you and actually enjoys it!

anyways, clarisse is also a koala bear

and an emotionally stunted caveman

she’s not good with her words so these actions are all she has to show you that she loves you

idk if y’all have noticed but clar rarely saying ily to y/n bc it’s my personal headcanon that she has such a hard time saying those words. she shows you she loves you but for some reason it’s just so hard to get the words out. (…BC SHE IS AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED CAVEMAN)

so she quickly adapts to do all these little things

if you’re walking down a flight of stairs trust she is holding your hand

QUEEN of opening jars for you

if you’re not feeling well or you’re tired or just feeling lazy she’ll bully someone into doing your chores for you

also this bitch is NOT afraid to stand up for you and make sure you get what you deserve.

like that one meme

“UM… she said NO PICKLES… you fucking dumbasses…”

“CLARISSE 😭😭😭”

also like in “better than revenge” she loves to watch you do your makeup

finds it so fascinating that you can only get PRETTIER

like she’s okay at makeup but you can do that shit perfectly like standing on your head

you make it seem so effortless

she’s not a HUGE makeup girly but sometimes she’ll let you just go crazy

so you can sit on top of her….. that one sapphic meme yes…..

also she’s constantly bragging about you

“yeah… i have the prettiest gf in camp… y’all are just losers what can i say”

ofc if anyone were to agree w her she would go insane

“yeah y/n is so pretty”

“um ok yeah you don’t have to say it i say it enough….”

even if one of your siblings gives you a compliment she’s like HOLD THE FUCK ON- then she remembers THATS YOUR SIBLING ITS OK and she’s like oh this is so embarrassing.

will she stop? no ofc not

she’s constantly telling you how pretty you are. beautiful. gorgeous. exquisite. all the words

loves kissing you all over

KISSES YOUR HAND 🤭🤭

anyways going back to the clarisse koala bear agenda that got away from me

she’s just always touching you

hand on the small of your hand guiding you somewhere

hand around your waist

SITTING IN HER LAP AT CAMPFIRES

no matter what type of hair you have she’s obsessed w it. if you have pin straight hair she’s so obsessed w the fact that you don’t need a huge curl routine like her, finds it fascinating

if you do have curls she loves doing a curl routine together

whatever whatever type of hair you have she’s obsessed with it and will wash it for you if you want

so soft and lovingly like a more of a scalp massage than a hair washing

will brush your hair for you, braid it for you, anything you like just OBSESSED

she loves when you like sit on top of a picnic table and then she gets to sit in between your legs on the bench thinks it’s so so fun and so so silly

she LOVESSSSS sleeping w you OBVI.

on top of you, you on top of her, she’s a koala bear. like entirely wrapped around you

partially bc she is as aforementioned a koala bear and partly bc she is overprotective even in her sleep

if you move in the middle of the night even just a little bit

she’s a super light sleeper i feel like

always on the guard fr ✊

a little bit better when you’re there tho

so if you move in the middle of the night she’ll just like caress your hair and kiss your cheek and try to shush you back to sleep

like bitch you’re still asleep have you never heard of ADJUSTING? MOVING? SHIFTING?

hope you’re not one of those people who has to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night bc with clarisse that will stop

you can’t abandon her even for 2 minutes even for basic bodily functions like you just can’t it’s so inconsiderate to her… 💔

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

[tender-rosiey]

hiii! can i request for fyodor, dazai, and ranpo hcs about "the romantic things they would do to win your heart" ty!

“I WANT YOUR LOVE”

— how dazai, fyodor and chuuya try to win your heart

a/n: i went through the five stages of grief writing this UHOFHO also sorry I didn't include ranpo; I hope you like it nonetheless <3 up next is husband!sukuna

OSAMU DAZAI:

so, I wouldn’t say extravagant BUT I would say that it is pretty loud

like gives you a huge bouquet in front of literally everyone kind of loud

also literally shouts your name whenever he sees you, “AHH BELLADONNA, MY BEAUTIFUL Y/N HOW GORGEOUS YOU LOOK TODAY!”

the way he brightens up in your presence is also so obvious like eugh take your lovesick self away bro

he also has a special sixth sense that tells him that you’re close by

when he does get to you, he literally showers you with affection

also, you know when he ditches meetings? he would literally attend them just to be with you, if you’re there that is

same case is when he is running away from kunikida, my man chooses to live his last moments gazing at your beauty and then happily suffer kunikida’s wrath

exhibit a:

“atsushi, have you seen dazai?” kunikida asked as he and atsushi patrolled the streets.

atsushi shook his head, but quickly went to get you, who was busy finishing the taiyaki you got as a treat for yourself after a day of hard work.

however, looks like this travail won’t end so you look up at both of them and tilt your head lightly, “do you guys need something?”

atsushi doesn’t answer, but instead inhales deeply and screams, “DAZAI-SAN, Y/N IS HERE!” which you could bet that the entirety of the city heard.

it’s quiet for a while, but then you hear the sound of rapid steps and panting. the moment you look back, you’re tackled by the bandaged man who merely chirps a happy ‘belladonna!’ as the both of you land on the ground.

“here he is, kunikida-san,” atsushi says with a smile and kunikida nods thoughtfully then proceeds to scribble something in his notebook.

you do hear, amidst getting yourself squashed in a hug by dazai, kunikida mumbling something along the lines of “scream ‘y/n is here’ so dazai can appear”.

he literally doesn’t try to hide it, but that’s like in the very beginning of him falling for you

when he realizes that ‘crap it's serious’ and that he really did fall for someone

I feel like his way of trying to win your heart will change to be much more intimate and quieter

like he is still loud and chaotic on daily basis, of course

but you will find yourself sharing a lot of quiet moments where you just bask in each other’s presence

he gets protective as well, but like people can tell he IS being protective, but YOU can’t

not because you’re dumb, oblivious or anything, it’s just that dazai doesn’t want to make you feel like your relationship changed and low-key doesn’t want to make it awkward

a protective that makes you go ‘what’s wrong with dazai’ and makes the other person go ‘I need to run’

I also see him still getting you bouquets, but they will be accompanied with small notes

they could be like the following:

“you are so beautiful that I swoon for you.”

“I hope your day was as lovely as you are.”

“how can someone be this effortlessly gorgeous?”

of course, they still include comical ones

“I accidentally knocked the tomato soup on kunikida’s pants yesterday, and his face was as red as said soup from anger. you could say that ‘the time of the month’ was a bit harsh on him ;)”

I also feel like he will try to initiate conversations a lot more (idk how because like y’all already talked A LOT)

It’s just that he becomes curious about what you think of everything and purely wants to know more about you, your views in life and whatnot

you could be talking about the silliest things and he would still be so interested and fully indulge you

I see him also sharing with you places with beautiful scenery that he often goes to; it’s just so intimate and he WANTS to make you know that you’re special

he jokes and still flirts loudly, but there are quiet moments because he wants you to understand that you having a hold on his heart is no joke

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY:

hm, it’s been a while since I wrote for him

so remember how I said dazai is kind of subtle in showing his genuine interest?

well, with fyodor you can’t even tell whether he changed or not

it’s just a normal everyday fyodor

BUT there some stuff he does extra

he gets protective, but just a little

so before, he used to glare at anyone who gets near you to hurt you which makes them quickly stop in their tracks, now he just instantly grabs their hand and threatens to kill them

another thing I see him doing is like taking you to places that he finds amusement in or like enjoys lol

that’s to show you off or show you a part of him in a more obvious way

he wants to show you his interests and see if they appeal to you as well or not

if they don’t then fak you, I mean then it’s fine cause variety is key

“fyodor.”

“yes?”

“couldn’t we go to a more entertaining place?” you inquire as you sip your drink and stare at the man who got you here in the first place.

fyodor smirks lightly, “whatever do you mean? this is highly entertaining.”

“1 year olds eating chess pieces is not my kind of entertainment, but okay.”

literally does stuff like this for giggles and his actual entertainment

loves messing with you but like lowkey

I also see him starting to compliment you more, like just smol compliments and sometimes you even have to read between the lines to get it

but sometimes he doesn’t even try to hide it

like nikolai could be doing god knows what, but just know it’s chaotic and sigma is trying to stop him but it just results in more chaos

and fyodor would just sigh and say something along the lines of “truly, an intelligence similar to y/n’s must be hard to achieve especially for you two.”

nikolai just laughs a laugh that screams bro stfu

sigma is just offend cause like why insult me while flirting with y/n?? tf did I do???

I also think that he will be more recognizing or acknowledging of your talents?

like with fyodor, I think the biggest sign of him liking you is accepting you as an equal and not treating you as a pawn or someone less than him

exhibit a:

“fyodor, shouldn’t this arrangement be discussed without someone like her present?” the man sneers as he looks you up and down, “she doesn’t seem trustworthy nor intelligent enough to keep up with our conversations.”

you hold back from responding and merely look at fyodor, who looks at the man in silence. he clears his throat lightly after he sips some tea and speaks up, “my apologies, but if anyone lacks in intelligence then it’s certainly you.”

both your eyes and the man’s widen at fyodor’s reply; the man is angered and he stands up abruptly, “how dare you say that?! It is more than obvious that I possess more intelligence than your subordinate here!”

fyodor raises an eyebrow in inquiry, “who said that she is my subordinate?”

the man is confused, and so are you, but fyodor pays no mind as he continues, “about the trust part, the only reason you’re going to do your end of the deal is because of the information I hold against you,” a smirk takes its place on fyodor’s lips, “meanwhile, her, I can give her a knife and she wouldn’t stab me, even in a million years.”

lmao if that ain’t down bad and blindly in love then idk

also, as we all must’ve guessed: he is pretty classic in terms of ‘flirting’ with you

but I do see him gifting you a rose of some sort and saying a smartass line like “even with its thorns, the rose is considered a sign of love and romance; is that to imply the hardships that come with loving someone?—“

boy shut yo ass and give me the damn flower

CHUUYA NAKAHARA:

chuuya is someone really honest so I think he will be really obvious and clear about wanting to win your heart

albeit a bit on the tsundere side sometimes but oh well

it’s still a lot more open that the others I have mentioned and feels very genuine

I also believe that he would want you to know that he likes you

plus I don’t think he can hide it well anyway

so he gets teased by everyone along with yourself

“ooo, who caught the heart of our badass mafia executive?”

and he would just grumble, “wow, i wonder who.”

of course, it’s a given that he would buy you souvenirs and gifts cause HEYYYY YOU DESERVE THE BEST

exhibit a:

“y/n, I need to give you something!”

you perk up at the voice and smile at chuuya, “yeah?”

he looks you in the eye for a moment before grumbling, face a soft hue of pink, and getting out the gift he got and placing it on your desk.

“aww, chuuya, you shouldn’t have!”

he crosses his arms and looks to the side, cheeks burning slightly, “yeah yeah, but I wanted to get you something.”

the smile never leaves your face and instead gets bigger as you see what’s inside. the thing about chuuya’s gifts is that they are always thoughtful.

“do you…like it?” you hear him mumble softly and just to hug him tightly.

“thank you so much! it’s amazing! I really love it!”

he stumbles over his words before yelling, obviously flustered, “t-that’s good! but you don’t have to hug me!”

“you don’t want me to?” you ask, slightly sad and chuuya wants to kick himself for making you like that.

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT EITHER!”

lmao, I love the guy

when you guys do get into a relationship, he is a lot less shy and open for affection but we are still not there yet hehe

something to add is that he also loves taking you anywhere you like

like either drive you there with his very cool motorcycle or you guys hanging out at some place

and like the places are…very extravagant to say the least

“so what do you think of the place?”

“chuuya, the walls are painted gold.”

“and?”

“chuuya, the fountain is dripping gold.”

“you don’t deserve anything less.”

Idk about you guys but I also think chuuya is a huge tease when he wants just not as horribly or as big as dazai

like just light teasing in general but it’s still so flustering; they’re things like:

“did the doll forget her keys again?”

“poor baby, want me to kiss it for you?” (but a lot less derogatory than when he said it to dazai 🤡; he really does want to kiss the pain away for you <33)

chuuya is rather protective by default so I feel like that won’t change, maybe amplified? but you can’t tell the difference because chuuya was always willing to beat some ass anyway

I see him being pretty attentive to your needs as well

like he has a bottle of water for you ready and maybe some food along with any personal essentials. he is a little grumpy when giving it to you, but it’s just to mask how nervous he is because of your smile

another thing, i think he does is write you letters

and they most of the time have poems? since you had told him about how he somehow (he did take offense to the word) has a good way with words

he also loves getting praised by you so it’s worth it even if it makes him a bit shy

now to end this on a cute note, the beginning phase of his confession included one of his poems accompanied with a rose

and its last lines were:

“once I believed love poems were foolish yet now I do nothing but dream about love”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @waosobii

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[just1cefor4ll]

HAIII!!! CAN I REQUEST TYLER HERNANDEZ X GN! READER? OR FEMALE IDRC, LIKE MAYBE AFTER THE GROUP BEAT UP BARRON AND HIS FRIENDS THEY FIND READER BEAT UP OR SMTH LIKE THAT? TO GET BACK AT TYLER?

YOU DONT HAVE TO DO THIS REQUEST IF U DONT WANT TO!! ION GONNA PRESSURE U!!🩷

Tyler Hernández x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of bl00d

genre: angst (??) with fluff

A/N: Idk if I understood correctly but this was during the arcade incident and one of Barrons friends just pull reader aside that was just at the wrong place at the wrong time yk

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

None of you expected for this to happen. Everything was going fine, you and the group were having fun at the arcade, deciding you deserved a little outing after going through so much traumatizing shit, and it was going well! Until Barron and his little minions showed up. You saw him with a boy you didn’t recognize, the boy following him around like a lost puppy, papers and what looked like assignments in hand. Everyone looked to Logan who seemed tense, Aiden covering Bens eyes knowing he would probably get triggered like last time when he saw Logan and Barron interacting. You were standing there, looking at Logan sympathetically while Tyler had his hand on your waist, bringing you closer as he glared at the direction Barron went. Logan speaks up and you kind of zone out, already knowing how Barron treated him and his antics. You could say you were close with Logan, your parents being pretty close with his grandparents so you often spent time together.

Tyler taps you on the shoulder and you snap out of your thoughts and look up at him. He pinches your cheek and smirks; “We’re getting that son of a bitch, yeah?” He says and you chuckle, grabbing his hand and taking it off your cheek, holding his hand instead. “Yeah, Logan will fuck him up!” You say enthusiastically and smile at Logan, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and wave at him as you and the group went out of the Arcade, circling behind so they don’t notice you coming with Logan. You listen in, sitting next to Ben and Taylor while the others payed closer attention in case anything went out of hand. After a few minutes you notice Ashlyns expression change to one of confusion and Ben perks up as well. Just a second later he stands up and runs over to the scene, making you and Taylor stand up as well and watch the scene unfold.

Everyone goes to intervene when suddenly you get pulled back into a darker corner of the back of the building by one of Barrons friends, you try to scream for help but he put his hand on your mouth and when he started beating you, you started to loose the last bit of energy to scream out for help.The group was fighting like crazy, as if something possesed them and you were just laying there weakly, getting beaten when suddenly Barrons voice was heard, calling his friends back so they could leave. The guy that was beating you up gave you one last kick to the side and you groaned in pain, sitting up weakly and back against a wall, sobbing quietly.

You clutch your side, blood dripping from your nose and bruises started to form all over your body. Your mind goes blank, only a faint buzz being heard from your perspective.Your vision gets a bit blurry when you see someone approaching you, you weakly let out a “Stay back” but quickly melt into the persons touch as they hug you. The voices are muffled and you can’t make out what they are saying when your vision just goes black.

Tylers face goes pale when you go limp in his arms. He yells out for the others and tries to shake you awake, giving you CPR. The others rush over to you, Ashlyn checking your pulse but sighs in relief and puts a hand on Tylers shoulder; “They’ll be fine, they just passed out.” She says and she puts you on your side and rubs your back. Tyler put your head in his lap and mumbles incoherent sentences the group can’t hear, sobbing quietly. “Oh, amor please be okay, I can’t loose you.” He says and shortly after the ambulance arrives and Tyler goes with you, refusing to leave you alone even after he was told he shouldn’t come along. He holds your hand the whole ride to the hospital and the others went by bus.

Tyler was sitting in the waiting room nervously, the doctors didn’t give him any updates and the group arrived at the hospital, everyone worried sick for you. They knew you wouldn’t die, but everyone felt bad they weren’t there to help you, especially Tyler who was full on sobbing, mumbling how stupid he was to let you into the fight. Taylor rubs his back soothingly and assures him that you would be fine; “They’re stronge Ty, Barrons little minions don’t stand a chance!” She says and smiles softly. Tyler just shrugs and stands up, walking over to a random nurse he saw with you and grabs her by the shoulder; “Hey do you know anything about Y/N L/N, they were brought here an hour ago.” He says and the nurse looks at him with a calm smile and gives him her full attention; “They will be fine, the doctors are running some tests and scans to make sure their body didn’t get any internal damage.” She says and pats him on the shoulder; “Everything will be fine, they’re strong, I can tell.” He nods and thanks the nurse before finally sitting down and talk with the others about what happened.

Hours pass and your parents arrive, worried sick and asks about what happened when they get interrupted by a doctor; “Excuse me, are you mr. and mrs. L/N? Your child is in room 504, she’s in stable condition and we will release her tommorow morning, for now you can go visit her.” He says and walks away, probably to go deal with other patients. Everyone rushes to your room and you look up at the ceiling, angry that you let the guy catch you off guard. Your side was wrapped in bandages along with your left arm and your knees. Everything ached and you just wanted to go home and forget everything that happened. Your thoughts get pushed aside when everyone barges into your room and start to question you; “Are you okay?” “What happened?” “Who did this?” Your parents ask frantically and you just sigh, not really feeling like speaking to anyone; “Nothing happened i’m fine..” You say and frown, looking away from everyone. It felt horrible to think about that everyone saw you as this weak being currently and you didn’t want that, knowing you could’ve done better and shouldn’t have let him catch you off guard.

After some time your parents leave, deciding to not pressure you and that they would let you come to them when you were comfortable to do so but Tyler and the others stayed for a while longer, comforting you and trying to take your mind off of what happened. Aiden wad playing random songs from his playlist and everyone sang alone, Tyler sitting on a chair next to you. holding your hand while rubbing circles on it or playing with your fingers like a curious child. He was glad you were okay, he just blamed himself for what happened and you could tell. “Hey guys, I’m a bit tired, could you give me a minute with Tyler tho?” You say with a kind smile and everyone nods, Ashlyn and Aiden waving you goodbye, Taylor and Logan hugging you and Ben just nodded at you with a worried, but comforting smile. As soon as the door closes you get tackled into a bone crushing hug; “Shit.. Ty that kinda hurts.” You wince as your bruised body starts to ache again. “Oh, right.. sorry.. sorry.” He says and kisses your forehead, cheek and then nose. You scoot closer to the side so he can lay down next to you and he does, wrapping his arms around you and lays you down on his chest. “I’m so sorry amor, I wish I was there but I wasn’t.. It’s all my fault..” He says and looks away, trying his best not to cry in front of you.

“Hey, baby, It really isn’t your fault and I do not blame you for what happened, it’s not anyones falt that Barron and his friends are just little shits that beat people up for fun.” You coo and play with his hair, sitting up so you have a good view of his face. You smile mischievously and start to kiss his whole face. And when I say whole I really mean his whole face. He chuckles and cups your cheeks, kissing you on the lips. The kiss was quick but sweet, making your face feel a bit hotter than usual. He goes to stand up from the hospital bed but you tighten your grip on him. “Stay, I don’t want to be alone when we go.. back there..” You point at the clock that read 11:47pm and he smiled softly, getting back in with you. You guys stay in comfortable silence, Tyler rubbing circles on the back of your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it. “I’ll protect you, I promise.”

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

[emmyspov]

Idk if your requests are open rn, but if they're not I apologize. I was wondering how you think The Fellowship would react to their youngest member (someone a little younger than Pippin, like around 20) being incredibly prone to injury but also having a really high pain tolerance. Like they keep falling off things and getting hurt but are just like "Don't fuss over me" and the others are just like hyperventilating because they're already like a little sibling to them so there is PANIC in this fellowship tonight

Source: I fell off a swingset and either severely bruised or fractured me hip :)

The Fellowship x clumsy!reader headcanons

author's note: first of all, i am so sorry it took me this long to answer this - life was just.. a lot and i was trying to stay afloat. then, i hope you are doing okay! and haven't hurt yourself more since you sent this in - please be careful & treat yourself gently 🩷 last but not least: i hope i was able to do you justice & you enjoy it :)

warnings: reader falling/stumbling/hitting their head/getting hurt in general, mention of blood, mention of food, please let me know if i forgot something!

word count: 1.6k

edit is mine, pics are from pinterest :)

Frodo: I think Frodo is actually the one who would understand you the best. I mean, he is the ring-bearer and everyone is always so worried about him and the quest and it’s understandable. I mean, he has a lot of responsibility. But sometimes, he feels a bit suffocated by the way everyone is fussing over him, wanting to keep him warm and well fed and safe. So, whenever something happens to you, he would give you some space first – waiting if you ask for help on your own. If you don’t, he’d make sure that you are not hurt. And then, he’d trust your answer. After all, you know your body and its limits best. If you say you are okay, he will simply focus on the quest again. If you do need help however, he will make sure to inform the others so you can get the help you need. Maybe this is something you could actually bond over. Because you’d treat him the same way – not like a baby, but like a friend.

Gandalf: Since you are the youngest of the group, he would feel very responsible for you. Not as much as Aragorn, but very close behind. Whenever you fall or hurt yourself, the wizard notices immediately. In an instant, he is by your side, helps you up and looks over you from head to toe, making sure you don’t have some big gashing wound or bones sticking out. Maybe I am wrong, but I do think, he would scold you a bit. “You really have to watch out”, “Eyes on the ground”, “Be careful”. But, all of these things mean that he cares. He just wants you to be safe and for you to come back in one piece. On the other hand, he is always quite surprised whenever you tell him that you aren’t really hurt. “Maybe it looks like I would be, but I can move my leg just fine – see?” And he would see. It’d take a few moments for you to convince him, but once you have, you will carry on with your journey as if nothing had happened. What you don’t notice is Gandalf eyeing you every once in a while, just to be really sure.

Merry: This hobbit is kind of used to chaos. I mean- he spends most of his time with Pippin. So, if you stumble and roll down some hill, the first thing he would do is laugh. I am talking a full on bending over, belly laugh. Until Gimli or Gandalf or, even worse, Aragorn slightly smack his shoulder before they are running after you, checking you for any injuries. Only then would he realize how dangerous this whole thing was and he’d follow everyone down to you. What he was not expecting however was to find you laughing. “Did I look cool?” Merry would stare at you for a moment before grinning at you, nodding. “Super cool. But are you hurt? Your arm has some scratches from all these twigs laying around.” You were able to stand up immediately, ignoring everyone’s wide eyes, and brushing off the dirt. “Nothing some water and Elrond’s ointment can’t fix.” You two got closer after this.

Pippin: First of all, he is SUPER glad that you, too, came along, because this way he is not the youngest of the group. Sure, he still has to deal with Gandalf’s annoyance at him, but he also has someone by his side who is also full of energy and curious and excited for the quest (at least in the beginning). But because he is the second youngest, he does feel a bit responsible for and protective over you. Like the older one of a pair of twins would. And since you hurt yourself a lot, he is constantly on his toes. Maybe you’d hold hands sometimes? Just so he can realize as early as possible that you’re gonna fall so he can at least try to buffer it. More often than not, it would also end in you two falling ON TOP of one another and that always ends in a fit of giggles. If you fall on your own though and it looked bad, Pippin would immediately call over Aragorn or Gandalf to help you, even when you say you’re fine because you’re his friend and he wants you to be okay.

Sam: Now we all know Sam is a mother hen through and through, even if he denies it. He is, understandably, mostly focused on Frodo and his well-being, but if something happens to you, he is one of the first to help, despite your protests. You stumbled? He will grab your hand and pull you up. Your hands got dirty and bloody from a fall? He will immediately offer his water bottle and help you clean off any dirt. And most importantly: at the end of the day or during breaks, he will carry over some food he cooked (and always an extra portion, too) even though you keep telling him that you can get it yourself and your ankle does not hurt, even if it might have looked like that earlier. “I just want to be sure, my friend. I don’t like the thought of you being in pain.” After a while, you start to accept his treatment.

Gimli: He is not up for discussions. You accidentally ran against a tree? Slipped while getting some water with him? He will not care for what you have to say about the amount of pain you are. You are the youngest of the group and have to be protected. So even if you vehemently try to make him understand that, yes, you might be bleeding a bit or yes, your wrist might be a little bit swollen, he would ignore you and instead call over the others to let them have a look at you. If they decided you were well enough to carry on, he would either carry your backpack (“Stop trying to take this away from me, I will take care of your belongings for now”) or sometimes even you - “Stop fussing around”, “No, you are not too heavy” and “I will carry you around until you are better.” Often times he knows that you would be well enough to walk by yourself, but it makes him feel needed when he can take care of you in some way.

Legolas: I feel like this can go two ways. Sometimes, when he is running in front of everyone else, he is kind of the last to notice whenever you hurt yourself. If he is with the group however, he will almost always be by your side or at least close to keep an eye on you. He likes to listen to you and Pippin talk since it fuels his inner child. One time, he was walking in front of you with Aragorn when you hit your head on a twig, resulting in a small cut on your forehead. You let out a yelp, more out of shock than anything else, but immediately the man and the elf turned around and ran to your aid. You tried to explain that you were fine, but Legolas seeing himself as a wood elf, was already on his way to find the closest stream to fetch some water to clean your wound. Aragorn was telling the others to take a short break when he returned and sat you down. “Stay still, my friend. Even if your cut doesn’t hurt now, it will later if we don’t treat it properly.” He only grinned when you mumbled something in return.

Boromir: Listen, Boromir has a little brother and a shitty father, he knows how to take care of someone while also respecting their boundaries and wishes. No matter how you hurt yourself, the first thing he will do is communicate clearly. Softly grabbing your shoulders, he makes you look at him and asks if you’re hurt or in any pain. If you answer no, he will ask if you need anything or anyone and if you also refuse that, he will make sure that everyone carries on with the journey. However, he will keep an eye on you, more or less secretly. And he will assist you with all the small things during the quest: rolling out your bedroll and placing it close to his own and the halflings’, sneaking you an extra blanket, making you sit close to the fire or refilling your water bottle without you having to ask. He has a soft spot for people younger than him and will never not watch out for you. Can you tell I have a soft spot for him?

Aragorn: Last but definitely not least, the Dúnedain. He is literally one of the best people to have around as a clumsy person - he has the experience from Elrond and the elves in general and knows his way around nature and the wild due to him being a ranger, so he knows how to take care of a wound. Heck, he had to do it to himself countless of times already. However, seeing you getting hurt so often makes his heart skip a beat every time and not in the good way. He worries about you, even if you claim to be fine. No matter how often you fall, stumble, bump against something or hurt yourself in any other way, he is by your side to take care of you. And he will care for you, no matter what you say. When you scraped your knees one time, Aragorn made you sit down on a log and cleaned your wounds before applying some of the ointment Elrond had given them before their departure. Only when he was sure that he had done everything he could, he would allow you to get back up and carry on. You would not get worse on his watch during this journey.  

[velvetvexations]

I have the forcefem meme blog blocked but someone I follow put a post of her's on my dash and she's just straight up saying "this isn't a kink blog, the way I do forcefem isn't kinky" and I swear my brain stopped working entirely for a second. I don't think there's anything wrong with kinks changing with a subculture or community or becoming memes but like. Come on. Forcefem is a kink, that's what it is. I try not to get too worked up about this blog because it's not good for me and my judgement does get clouded by the dysphoria it triggers but like, it really does genuinely worry me the way the meme-ification of forcefem has completely divorced the kink element from what is still very fucking clearly a kink. This whole "I'm not doing it in a kink way" is not a get out of kink free card, and it's a piss poor excuse for going around and flooding this website with kink stuff that now essentially cannot be avoided in trans spaces. No other kink that has like, a potentially sfw angle has a community that acts like this about it, people who do like bootblacking performances where no explicitly sexual acts take place still make it clear this is a kink thing so people can avoid it if they want, and there are huge arguments in furry communities over if you can even do "sfw" vore because vore is a kink even when no traditional sex acts are being depicted. Every other kink community gets that even when no one is fucking, a kink is still a kink and should be treated as such for the safety of everyone, why should THIS be the exception??

Ugh anyway sorry didn't want this to turn into a rant, I really don't think there's anything wrong with doing a fun sfw kind of forcefem with people who consent but like, as a kinky person who cares a lot about kink and BDSM history and communities the blatant refusal to consider forcefem a kink AT ALL is concerning. You cannot un-kink-ify it, this is a kink goddamn it and when you stop treating it as such you open up a LOT of unsafe grey areas on top of making it borderline impossible for people who are squicked out by it to avoid it because no one is going to tag for something they think is a harmless, gender-affirming, tgirl approved meme.

Idk tho maybe I'm letting my own dysphoria get in the way, feel free to check me if that's the case I will take the L with grace, but I just feel like this "It's not a kink when I do it" thing is...in poor taste, at the very least. I don't think it's intentionally malicious either I just don't like it when we stop recognizing that a kink is a kink.

I advocate tirelessly for being able to live BDSM relationships in public to the extent that "normal" relationships are allowed, but what I do not do is say I should get to snap a collar around a random girl's neck and drag her off because it's just a lifestyle. Like fuck off with "it's not a kink," IT IS, and it is NON-CON.

My biggest fan can't shut up about me supposedly calling trans women groomers because I think it's bad for trans men to say they want to cure trans women's "comphet," but you know what's also sexually coercive? Shoving your non-con fetish at people, many of whom are going to have reasons to be outright triggered by it, and then call it fine because it's so totally non-sexual.

SATIRE BEGIN

Well, okay, fine, start making indiscriminate forcemasc jokes at women. It's not a kink! There's nothing wrong with being a trans man! How could they possibly complain?

SATIRE END

That's a rhetorical question too, the answer is that they'd be massive hypocrites about it and say some dumbass shit like "transmascs just invented forcemasc to gentrify our fet I MEAN NOT A FETISH" or "trans men shouldn't care about being forcefemmed because there's nothing wrong with it but being a man is Bad."

[foureyedfella]

☆ Hey peoples 😁 thought I should share an Aran Ryan headcanon based on how I structure my drawing lol (its kind of nice to have stuff logged on here so I can go back to it :P)

☆ Idk if this needs a content warning or anything sorry, but theres a good chunk of talk about medication and mental health❗

☆ So for one I feel like he has ADHD, and that's kind of where my whole ramble will stem from

☆ Back in Ireland, he was actually treated for his ADHD (and only because he was considered a pain so there "must've" been something wrong with him)

☆ When moved from home (snuck out 😭 more on that at some point), he pretty much took what he can put into a carry on bag and at the time he had around a years worth of medication

☆ When he got to New York, he was pretty much as clueless as you can be, just recently turning 18 and also never leaving Ireland prior to that so it was a huge mess

☆I feel like with that scramble came the entire medical care being a huge confusion for him as well, not knowing how he would be able to renew his medication or if he even could

☆ With time he ran out of his initial prescription, and that sharp withdrawl took a heavy toll on him to say the least

☆ He was incredibly irritable and had sporadic bursts, not good as the clean, firm and fierce SPO Aran he was portraying himself as 😭

☆ It made him have some cutoffs with some of the other boxers who he was honestly pretty close with, like Narcis Prince and Piston Hurricane, thinking his behavior is offputting and not like him

☆ (This was also around the general time I think he would face up against Masked Muscle and have a literal crashout after getting spit in the eye- insane revelation to him, because if this goober can just straight up cheat why cant he?)

☆ I still don't think he has bothered asking or researching how to get back on his prescription, partially from feeling like he can manage without it (lie) and just feeling really embarrassed about it

☆ He let it slip while drinking with Soda at some point, and while Soda is one to always have confidentiality over anything said to him, especially during drinking nights, this felt different and it felt negligent to not point it out to someone who can help so we'll see where it goes from there 😭🙏

☆ That is my ramble take it or leave it!!!! Heres a doodle for surviving the ramble (He looks different EVERYTIME I draw him this is so cruel)

[toomiieimagiines]

AHHHH HIIII i have a req >< its an akito shinonome xFem!reader so the're both at weekend garage yknow doing their own thing and akito is talking to some npc guy an then the guy asks if the reader is his gf and akito being the lovesick loser he is/j says yeah then he says "yeah ik what you see in her shes fine" then akito is like like that one shocked face emoji (i cant find it lmao) have a nice dayyy !!

𖦹 hii! it’s been so long since i’ve uploaded, happy new year! i could sit here and tell a whole sob story about why i didn’t upload, but i’ll save it! thank you all for the support!it really means a lot, and makes me feel appreciated!^_^

♪ kind of ooc, VERY poorly written this is a draft all the way from summer, i just wanted you guys to have something. they hate each other for some reason idk why but it felt fitting… i make akito have a sweet insert a lot so i guess thought i’d make her feisty

“They’re mine, yeah?”

Akito Shinonome is a total jerk! He’s sending you mixed signals, and it’s driving you nuts!

You can only stand so many chirped out “Don’t worry ‘bout it, babe!”s before you start to get the wrong idea. I mean, who does this guy think he is, talking to you like that? He’s your friend - at least you think he is - so the fact he’s treating you like some pretty thing is getting on your nerves.

Little did you know, HE’S feeling the same way.

I mean seriously, are you blind? He’s genuinely curious. He wants to strangle you every time you tilt your head like a stupid dog, and go ‘huh?’! You have to be dumb, right? That, or you’re not interested in him. But, if the latter is the case, you need to grow a pair and tell him, so he can throw himself into practice for a couple of days and probably also get into a fight with Toya over something that wasn’t even that important- God, he’s rambling. He never rambles. You make him act all weird, he hates it. You suck.

You two have been keeping up the whole ‘I wanna kick your teeth in, and then make out’ thing for a while, without either of you knowing. It would be funny if it wasn’t so Goddamn infuriating. Endless rehearsals of Akito having his ‘man-period’ (as An has so affectionately dubbed it) have gotten old for everyone. How many times can he make everyone run through “Echo” before the novelty is taken out of the song?

At any rate, this can’t last forever. Something’s gotta give eventually.

And it did.

It did when Akito was (basically) tied down and (basically) forced to stare at you while you (..actually) talked to Kohane. It wasn’t his fault, okay? The sun was hitting your face just right, and you kept doing this endearing thing with your hair when it got in your face- it was like you taped his eyes open! Maybe if you’d stop being so charming while doing absolutely nothing, he wouldn’t have to look like a creep! It didn’t go unnoticed by you either.

Akito kept staring at you, and it kept throwing you off balance. You didn’t know why, only having asked Kohane a small number of a billion times. ‘Kohane, am I talking too loud?’ before quitting and just letting him look. You must’ve done something to piss him off, what a jerk! You’re so sick of him being so immature! He should just man up and tell you when he’s pissed, not give you a dirty look- well, the more you look at it, it isn’t all that dirty. Why is he making that weird lopsided face? It looks dumb. You decide to stare at him back.

Akito jumps, quickly shifting his eyes away from you. How embarrassing! God, he must look like such a loser. He tries to act casual as you turn your head back Kohane, finally letting out a breath when you bring your attention back.

He has never been more thankful for anything in his life. Truly. He was feeling blessed until he felt a nudge on his shoulder.

Now, he wasn’t excited to mess someone up in front of you, but he wasn’t about to look like some pussy either. Thankfully, there was no need, the sleaze seems chill, but damn, this guy sure looks like a toolbag.

“‘Sup, man?” He says, and Akito winces. This guy's voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Does he think he has swagger? How dare this guy interrupt his borderline creepy stalker time? He puts on an annoyed smile, deciding he has to be a little polite.

“‘Sup? Need somethin’?” God, he hopes not. He’s no good at directions, and he’s worse at being polite to bastards with ugly haircuts.

“Ah, was just wondering, that one yours?” The guy gestures to you two, nudging him again. Are you fucking kidding me right now? For his sake, Akito assumes this guy is talking about Kohane - which he still wasn’t enthusiastic about throwing to him - and shrugs. He felt a little dirty telling the name of his friend to this slimeball, but if it gets him off your back he’ll have to live with it. And he can just beat the daylights out of him if he tries anything funny anyway.

“The blonde girl with pigtails? Her name is Kohane, and no, I’m not with her, but she doesn’t-“ He’s quickly interrupted.

“No, no, the other one. Y’know the hot one talkin’ to her?”

Akito’s eye twitches. How dare this guy talk about you like that. His blood boils over, and he quickly grows defensive. Yes, you know what, you are his, and he’s not about to let this slimeball think any different. He can’t believe that anyone would dare think of you like that. “The hot one”? Ha, don’t make him laugh. You are hot, sure, but you’re also a total brat. Does that weirdo know your favorite drink from this café? For fucks sake, he didn’t even know your name. You’re not a thing, but you ARE his. He pushes the man - yes, man, he’s sure this guy is grown - away, masking himself in half-playfulness.

“Yeah, back off dude. They’re mine, yeah?” He’s loud - louder than he’d like - when he scolds him. He obviously comes off as hostile because everybody (including you. confused and probably disgusted you.) turned to look at him. Ugh, how embarrassing!

You and Kohane exchange confused glances, making him fall further into the pit of guilt. Maybe he went a little far, I mean you aren’t his, so maybe you’d be interested in him- Nah, he acts like a slimeball, and looks like one, despite all Akitos flaws, he’s miles better than this freak, but he probably embarrassed you. The guy backs away in defense, holding his hands up.

“Hey, hey, don’t worry, was just wonderin’ I know what you see in them.” The guy pulls back, obviously not about to take whatever shit Akito was so willing to put on him. Smart move, because his nice streak was running out. The guy scampers away, muttering out his apologies. Oh great, now he really looks like a psycho. He’s gonna have to change his name and switch schools-

He sees you turn to him and laugh, God, he’s so fucked.

Now you, mildly amused, somewhat heartbroken, and really pissed off you, had seen this little outburst, and the “they’re mine”, and immediately assumed he was talking about Kohane. Obviously. You two aren’t together, you thought you’d at least remember that.

Your first train of thought as his self-proclaimed ‘semi-best-friend’, was how dare he not tell you about this?! And how dare he just lead you on like that when he had a girlfriend? What a jerk! You didn’t even have feelings for him anyway. You’re better than that! You exhale, trying to calm your heart. It’s not the time for this. It’s ‘semi-best-friend-who-hates-him’ time, so you prance over to him with a shit-eating grin.

“Damn, someone’s protective of their girlfriend! I’m heartbroken that you didn’t tell me, y’know. I thought we were besties!” You knock into his shoulder, giving a convincing eyebrow wiggle.

What the fuck? No, like, seriously what the fuck? Akitos mind jumps around in his skull, not finding a single thing to say. Do you think- Really? Him and Kohane? He lets out a laugh, rubbing his eyes in exasperation. You’re so dumb sometimes, really dumb. Cute though. Smart too. Pretty, funny, dense-

“Nah, no I’m- I’m not with her.” His voice finally comes out, and you’re hit with a wave of confusion. Not with her? If that’s the case, what was his outburst even about?

“Then why the crash out, huh? Do you like her?” You tease, stretching out the ‘like’. Your hands go back to his shoulders, jumping up and down. If you were to be honest with yourself, you’d find that you’re guiltily happy at the fact they’re not dating. You’d never admit that though. Not to this punk.

His breath gets caught in his throat, his pulse quickening at the closeness. You’re such a dunce, are you blind? Do you not know how he feels? As said, he hasn’t really been subtle about it.

“I- uh-” He looks to the side, struggling to find anything to say. Whatever happened to stone-cold Akito? Is he just going to sit there foolishly? He's embarrassed, to say the least. How is he even supposed to rectify this? Hey, I’m totally into you, sorry for embarrassing you in front of our friend?! “I’m-”

“You do like her!” You screech, still shaking him up. You don't feel great about it, sure, but it's still fun to tease him. He's still your best friend, so-

“No, stupid I- God, that’s not it! You're so dumb, I was talking about you-“

You freeze, and so does he. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. He decides it was.

“What?!” You sputter, stepping back. Did you hear him correctly? There's no way… right? You know that he had been flirty, sure, but this? A real confession? It seems completely out of character for the rough-and-tough boy, and it really did come from nowhere. Unfortunately, your confusion only serves to piss him off. Where do you get the nerve to act shocked?

“Whatdya mean ‘what?’?!” He crosses his arms, obviously growing irritated by your ignorance. He stares down at you, wiping his palms on his pants in suspense. “Do you not get it?-”

“I just thought you were…” you trail off, fidgeting with your hemline, “so you're not with Kohane?” Your voice is reluctant as you ask, wanting to confirm it; confirm he likes you.

“No, I’m not with Kohane!-“ He defends, running a hand through his hair.

“And… you like me?” You point to yourself.

“Yes, that's what I said-”

“Oh.”

“”Oh?!” What is “oh?!”?” His voice comes out embarrassingly high-pitched, and it furthers the awkward moment.

“Oh. It’s just… oh.”

You both look the other way, trying your best to peek at each other's faces while remaining indiscreet. He wasn’t about to look at you while you embarrassed him. You’re so annoying.

Silence is something you two don't do very well when you're together, but it develops… in time.

You break it, you always were charitable.

“I kinda like you too y’know,” you confess, “even if you're kind’ve a jackass and you have bad hair.”

“I- okay.” He doesn’t dare to look at you, much to your annoyance.

“”Okay”? You got mad at me for an “Oh” but you give me an “okay”?!”

“Whatever, weirdo.”

“You suck, Shinonome.”

Kohane sees you guys holding hands when you three walk home that night… but she decides to keep her mouth shut.

[landothemuppet]

WILD CHERRY AND THE PAPAYA FLIRT (LN4) part one

pairing: lando norris x onlyfan!reader

summary: lando norris indeed goes on OF and being a fan of a certain girl.

content warnings: onlyfan mentionned, suggestive content, disgusting men comments, mention of sugar daddies/baby

author's note: okayyyy well, I have to say that those rumors about Lando really helped me to right this first part. I think it would be two short part, maybe three. I hope you will enjoy this, please be kind to me.

yourinstagram

liked by nobodycaressss5 and 1,587 others yourinstagram 🍒 → sugardaddy67 could give everything to taste your sweet lips → robertutterbate show me more, my babygirl → nobodycaressss5 nice → mrbigredboss did you receive my gift, my sweet baby? liked by yourinstagram

yourusername is on live!

yourinstagram posted a story

nobodycaressss5 even if you would be stunning in that, i have to say: wrong team, girl yourinstagram First, it was a cute gift from someone. Then, which teams should i wear, then? nobodycaressss5 From one of your daddies? idk why but i'm sure papaya would suits you better or nothing...would be even better yourinstagram None of your business, you noisy little weirdo oh, so you want me naked? what would you do if i was? nobodycaressss5 Not a really nice way to talk to someone who wants to be nice Treat you well, honey...treat you so well, better than all of your daddies yourinstagram bold of you, empty pp...

twitter

yourinstagram posted a story

nobodycaressss5 are your flirting with me, babygirl? yourinstagram should i? nobodycaressss5 don't know, what's the papaya about? yourinstagram testing the merch before wearing the actual color nobodycaressss5 so you considering about me sending you gift? yourinstagram mhmm, maybe, if I like the taste, maybe you should start to show me how you treat me better than the others... nobodycaressss5 can't wait to show you... yourinstagram my turn.. what's the papaya about? what's the matter behind that particular color? nobodycaressss5 let me first see you in papaya and then i will tell you, babygirl

gossipwags

liked by nowislan, infourlando, and 7,854 others

gossipwags it seems like our national Lando Norris loves to like some sulfurous instagram account those days. Lando's parasocials are wild and non-reciprocal on this account. (@)yourinstagram is a faceless instagram account with a red aesthetic (seem our papaya boy likes kinda a Ferrari girl), with some pretty implicit content. Also, she seems to have a link on her profile leading to an OF paid page. What do you think?

yourinstagram

liked by nobodycaressss5, and 1,989 others yourinstagram Imagine me; I shall not exist if you do not imagine me. (Lolita, Vladimir Nabokov, 1955) show more comments → landonowiss ugh, she's quoting a pedophile ↳ ln4swiftie educate yourself, you moron. → bobnorris Not Lolita 😩 → nowinfornorris whore ↳ charlandosupremacy slut-shamming could be illegal ↳ nowiiis she's asking for it, quoting some perv books, having an onlyfans ↳ ln4swiftie (@)nowiiis again, educate yourself...and girl can do whatever she wants, that doesn't make her a whore. We're in 2024.

yourusername is on live!

[weirdqueerleftistunity]

I was trying to forget about those people that think Leftist Unity is a weird ship because, "Tankie is a fatherly figure to Ancom" but I accidentally stumbled across a reply in the comments that reads,

Also jreg: Portrays tankie as a father figure to ancom directly before this song

..and it just baffles me. I've always found the flashback to be such an exaggerated portrayal of Ancom's naivety that I see it as a reflection of Commie's own flaws more than seeing it as an accurate portrayal of their relationship. When looking back on the dialogue of their break up, I see the pattern of Commie wanting to assert his ideology and his reality over the other, to "educate" Ancom who CLEARLY doesn't know what qi's talking about.

Commie: Come, take my hand. You are not thinking straight. Ancom: Nah, I'm thinking just fine. Actually a lot more clear than I've been thinking in the past. [...] Commie: Is this about all the times I killed all the anarchists? Come on! We were fighting capitalism and fascism. We had no time for anarchy! Ancom: Yeah, we were definitely never cool on that front. Commie: Clearly you have brain damage. More brain damage than usual. Ancom: Nah, actually, I feel like a lot more clear-headed. And come to think of it, this whole leftist unity thing was always a way of tankies to just control all leftist discourse. I'm kind of sick of that shit [...]

Ancom may be under the effects of nihilism, but qi didn't suddenly fabricate a dismissive, demeaning, infantilising Commie - it's just that under the slightest pressure, the slightest change of perspective, Ancom realises qi doesn't want to stay with Commie anymore. And what reason does qi have to stay when even Commie can't come up with a convincing argument for qim?

Commie: But… but the centrists. The… the extremists! [...] Commie: What do you want me to do? Represent the entire left? What do we do without the gays? Who's going to represent the gays? Commie: What do I do without you? What do I do without him? Ancom: Oh tankie, one last thing. It's quee/quem.

^^ That's the expression of someone who's realising that through their own behaviour, they've pushed the one they love away. You could say that up until this point, Commie has felt he provides guidance and purpose to Ancom; but really it was Commie who was the one deriving purpose from being Ancom's superior. With no purpose, a void that needs to be filled, it's no wonder that Commie is taken by Auth-Right's narrative that he's a part of a greater political war.. But back to my point.

Having the flashback where Commie is reminiscing about a version of Ancom that must think of Commie as a "teacher" being sandwiched between the break up (Ancom asserting that qi is tired of constantly being used and disrespected) and the duet (Commie reflecting and coming to realise he needs to treat Ancom as an equal if he wants qim to come back) - to me, this is obviously a tool of contrast. If you're taking the flashback literally as to see Commie as Ancom's parent rather than the exaggeration of the flaw that Commie infantilises the other then.. Idk what to say other than, do you REALLY think Ancom would say, "you're so smart, I'll do whatever you say"? Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems like this is a fictitious version of Ancom that idolises Commie: an illusion that was shattered the moment Ancom left and showed Commie that qi doesn't need him as much as he needs Ancom to feel whole.

This contrast is what helps the song Leftist Unity absolutely slam dunk my feelings every time, because you watch Commie go from yearning for this inaccurate memory of Ancom to having an argument with Ancom where qi is framed in a way where qi is equal to the other. Like I'm not someone who's great at deciphering imagery, but I think it's quite blatant that musically and visually there is not a superior side. Though Ancom does turn grey and fade into the background, this more signals how Commie has been left behind to mourn the loss of the other now that qi's gone.

And after this we get the interaction between Auth-Right and Commie where Auth-Right takes advantage of this beautiful butch lesbian's heartbreak; where Commie is on the brink of making a meaningful change before experiencing some character regression as Auth-Right convinces the other that he doesn't need to change.

Auth-Right: What, are you still sulking about that degenerate? Commie: I just… I just don't know who I am without Anarkiddy. [...] Commie: I don't know, [Auth-Right]. I have been reading about left communism, and- Auth-Right: Commie, listen to me. [...] The left versus the right. The far left versus the far right. Everything falls into place around us. And I wouldn't give that up for anything. [...] Commie: This is the kind of authoritarian unity I always wanted. Auth-Right: Well, now that the degenerate's gone, we can finally have it.

Commie obviously isn't perfect here. Change can be rocky, so he still calls Ancom "Anarkiddy" here but he IS trying to learn more about Ancom's ideology (once again, it is just tragic that Auth-Right takes advantage of this beautiful butch at his lowest)... And I want to point out Commie READING qis theory to highlight the fact that Ancom isn't an idiot who needs to be educated on every little thing, Ancom isn't a child, Ancom just knows qis OWN ideology's theory better that Commie's. If you quizzed Commie on Ancom's ideology, Commie likely wouldn't know nearly as much a Ancom does, but because Ancom doesn't talk like an "intellectual" people seem to think that Ancom doesn't know anything. Like Ancom LITERALLY brings up Kropotkin and Bookchin in episode 3- do I have to point out that Ancom can read or what? Again, it makes it weird to see the flashback taken literally because of COURSE Ancom is going to be viewed as childish if you don't have any respect for Ancom's ideology - which is exactly what Commie did.

This post could likely be more polished to better explain my point, but basically, I will always take issue with people who assert that Leftist Unity is a father-son dynamic when I think the text is trying to communicate a narrative of Ancom being treated in a demeaning manner - which makes it even MORE insulting when you do the exact same thing (infantilising Ancom) the narrative is communicating was WRONG.. Of course, you can interpret the text whichever way you want, but don't jump on shippers as if we don't know what we're talking about. We have seen the text, we just don't think it says what YOU think it's saying.

Also, they canonically play tropey romantic music when Ancom and Commie reunite so I think maybe the editor might understand the text better than you- Sorry, who said that? (This is just a petty remark to be funny. I'm just being opinionated, you honestly can interpret them as father and son if you want.)

[penny-anna]

been reading a lot of Owl House fanfic lately & have some Hunter Thoughts (long post + cw for discussion of child abuse):

run into the take a couple of times now that the other Coven heads (in particular well-meaning characters like Darius & Raine) should have done more to help Hunter. and while i do agree that uhh almost every adult in the show let Hunter down i have 2 responses to that

FIRSTLY: i could be wrong (i watched s2 in a pretty choppy manner) but i don't think there's any indication that Hunter's abuse is happening anywhere other than behind closed doors. it's very possible that the outward image of Hunter & Belos's relationship is 'this is the emperor's special favourite nephew who he dotes upon'.

it's like. self-evidently the case that Hunter is being neglected emotionally but probably no-one had any reason to think he was in physical danger. remember that most people were under the impression that Belos was a benevolent ruler & the minority who'd figured out what his game could have reasonably assumed that for all his faults he wouldn't hurt Hunter.

Darius expresses concern about his social life but seems to read uhh nothing whatsoever into this interaction:

which suggests to me that he hasn't seen any prior indication of physical abuse & just assumes Hunter is being very dramatic!

(side note i just noticed Flapjack covering his eyes with his wings gdlkjfhglfjh omg Flapjack)

& all of this is very plausible! let's face it not all abusive parents IRL give off obvious red flags to anyone external to the situation.

SECONDLY: to be blunt, the position Belos put Hunter in was such that i don't know if anyone could have helped even if they wanted to.

Hunter being elevated to the position of Head of the Emperor's Coven is clearly an unusual move & one that was made in direct response to Lilith defecting. It's a clear signal that Belos doesn't trust his remaining Coven Heads and wants to keep a closer eye on them. they have good reason to believe that the Golden Guard could u know. report any of them to Belos as a Traitor at any time.

whether Belos would actually automatically believe him is another matter but like, as stated above, they don't know how Belos treats Hunter behind closed doors. for all they know one word from Hunter could get them idk petrified.

their behaviour towards him isn't nice but his presence is both threatening and also kind of insulting. he's wrapped up in the internal politics of the court in a way that makes it difficult to anyone to respond to him with anything other hostility. which is uhh not a position Belos should ever have put his 16 year old ''''nephew'''' into.

for all Darius knows if he starts being nice to the Golden Guard & relaxes in his presence he's gonna end up saying something that'll get back to Belos. he doesn't let down his guard around Hunter until seeing u know. multiple clear signals that he's actually willing to lie to Belos.

like. Hunter is dangerous! bcos we as the audience are so familiar w this Hunter:

easy to forget that most people in the Boiling Isles only know this guy:

he's a very real threat to everyone around him by virtue of being the emperor's Right Hand! just look at how Odalia reacts to him showing up:

people are actively afraid of the Golden Guard & him being 16 doesn't make him any less of a deadly threat. he's functionally untouchable. trying to suggest that hey, maybe the head of the police force shouldn't be a 16 year old boy is liable to get you thrown in the conformatorium.

like. even if someone did put together that Hunter was in danger from Belos what are they gonna do about it? u can't exactly call social services on the God Emperor.