#nyla rambles

[nylaboon]

saw this on twt and it reminded me of luke cooper

[nevereclipse]

father figure

Pairing: Platonic!Tim Bradford x femme!rookie!reader

Requested Y/N: no this came from my own brain !!

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Use of y/n, yelling (standard TO Bradford style), domestic violence from a police perspective, light verbal sexual harrassment, mentioned vomitting, mentioned anxiety/nervousness, panic attacks, referenced/discussed past child abuse (emotional, with vague mentions of physical). Tim being a big ole softie (eventually).

Words: 5k+

Summary: How you went from being Tim Bradfords boot, to his unofficial kid.

this one got away from me a lot and has not been proofread!😭 enjoy! feedback is fuel.

----

“Officer Y/l/n, you’re assigned to Sergeant Bradford.” Sergeant Grey was standing at the front of roll call, having just asked you to introduce yourself to your new coworkers. It was your first day as a rookie at Mid-Wilshire, and your stomach was alive with nerves.

“Yes, sir.” You responded, sitting back in your chair.

“Alright everyone, you’re dismissed,” Grey continued, “Stay safe out there.”

Immediately, Sergeant Bradford was out of his seat and walking towards you, his face stony. You’d been warned about him by a… Officer Chen? You couldn’t really remember her name. Still, she’d warned you about his ‘Tim Tests’ and gruff demeanour. It wasn’t helping your nerves.

“Boot! Let’s go.” Bradford snapped, gesturing you over with a flick of two fingers. You smoothed your uniform and walked over. You forced a smile onto your face, wanting to make a good impression.

“Sir, I’m-,” you started.

“Save it, boot.” Sergeant Bradford cut you off. “You will address me as only Bradford, Sergeant Bradford or Sir. Is that understood?”

You nodded, the nerves settling comfortably in your stomach. Bradford was clearly not planning to calm your worries. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Go grab the warbags and meet me at the shop.” Bradford nodded his head vaguely in the direction of the supply room, and you hurried off to prepare the war bags. The last thing you needed was to make a bad impression on someone who was already making you nervous.

---

Tim watched you hurriedly walk to the war room to set up. As he watched you go, Angela Lopez approached.

“So, what do you think of the new blood?” Lopez asked, gesturing (albeit unnecessarily) behind you.

“Too soon to say.” Tim replied, crossing his arms as he turned to Angela.

“Come on, Bradford, you always know right away.” Angela pushed, nudging Tim’s side.

Tim couldn’t deny that. He had a knack for knowing whether someone would be a good fit for policework – it was why he was an excellent TO.

Still, he paused, considering. “She’s… eager.” He hedged. It was true, to a degree. You did seem eager. But he could tell there was something more bubbling under the surface.

“Uh huh.” Lopez grinned, “Don’t be a total dick today, yeah?”

Tim glanced over his shoulder just as you walked out of the storeroom carrying the war bags. “No promises.”

---

Office Chen had been right. Sergeant Bradford was extremely intimidating. You’d graduated third at the Academy, and you knew you were good (well, competent at least), but some part of you was still constantly second guessing. Maybe it was Bradford’s height and build, or his permanently pissed off energy but an hour into your shift and you were scared. Not of him (not really), but of what’d happen when you inevitably screwed up. You’d tried to chat initially, but it hadn’t gone down well.

“So. Why do you want to be a cop?” Bradford asked as he pulled off West Olympic.

After an hour of near-silence, since Bradford had firmly proclaimed that the shop was a personal-life-free zone, the question surprised you. “Is that a trick question?”

“No. If I’m going to train you, I need to know why you’re in this car.” Bradford didn’t even look at you as he drove, instead scanning the streets around you.

You looked out your window for a moment. It wasn’t exactly an easy question to answer. Not without revealing way more about yourself then you wanted to on your first shift. Then you wanted too ever, really.  “Um.” You swallowed. “I know it’s… basic, but I want to help people.” You hedged. “People who don’t have anyone else to-.”

The shop screeched to a halt, and you were suddenly cut off by Bradford yelling: “I’VE BEEN SHOT! WHERE ARE YOU, BOOT?”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck- you didn’t know. “Um…” You looked around, trying desperately to find a street sign, or some clue as to where you were. After a few more seconds, you heard Bradford scoff.

“Now I’m dead. It’s your fault.” He didn’t even look mad. Just completed blank. That was almost more nerve racking.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” You started, hating the way your voice shook.

“Not good enough, Boot!” Tim’s voice was loud and sharp, cutting through the silence of the shop. “Apologies don’t save lives, rookie. Get out.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“I said get out and walk, boot. You can get back in when you know where you are.”

In that moment, you knew you’d ruined it. This had been your chance to be a cop, and less than two hours in, you’d already fucked it up. You got out of the shop, walking along side it. Hoping Bradford didn’t notice how your legs had shaken as you left. You wouldn’t let yourself be upset by this. Bradford was just doing his job, you were perfectly safe. From him, anyway.

Still, when you finally got back in the shop, you didn’t talk again. All your focus went towards scanning your surroundings.

---

Your legs had shaken when you got out of the car. It was subtle, but Tim had noticed it. Unbidden, a touch of guilt settled in his stomach. He honestly hadn’t meant to frighten you. It was just a Tim Test – he didn’t need (nor want) you to be scared. It was hardly conducive to training a good rookie.

What bothered him most, though, is your complete silence the rest of the day. You’d been annoying chatty the first twenty odd minutes of your shift (until Tim had, in traditional Bradford fashion, banned any sort of personal talk), but since getting back in the car, you’d stuck strictly to ‘yes, sir’s and ‘no, sir’s. It had been… unnerving.

Tim didn’t like changing his training style. After all, after half a dozen rookies, he liked to think that he’d perfected his TO methods. Everyone knew that he was an exceptional training officer. The only people he ever made exceptions for were veterans like him. But the thought of scaring you every time he yelled made his stomach drop in an unpleasant way. You’d been so eager when you’d first gotten in the shop – nervous, sure, but eager. And you were so, so young. You reminded him of himself in a way.

In the way you’d immediately changed he’d yelled, which even Tim could admit would’ve been… slightly scary. And that change had implications, ones Tim didn’t like. He especially didn’t like the implication of what that made him to you. A threat. So he’d never mention it, but he did quietly resolve to adjust – adjust, not change – the way he made sure you learnt what you needed too.

---

A few weeks into your training and Sergeant Bradford had significantly lowered on your rating of ‘scary people I know.’ While he was still harsh, and quick to criticise, he’d never shown you that cold, disappointment-infused yelling that he had on your first shift. It’d made it a lot easier for you to get comfortable around him, and you’d almost immediately started breaking the ‘no personal talk in the shop’ rule.

“Anyway, then she said that I was the one who needed to check my attitude. I mean can you believe that? Me? Having an attitude?” You said, watching your surroundings (you hadn’t forgotten your first Tim Test) as you rambled about some woman you’d run into grocery shopping.

At your comment, Bradford simply side-eyed you. He did that a lot, you were realising.

“Rude. That’s rude.” You said in response to the side eye. “It gets worse, though. She had the audacity-.”

Bradford held up a hand, cutting you off. “Boot.”

You turned, “Yes, sir?”

“Stop. Talking.”

You shut your mouth, but that was mostly to hold back a slight laugh. Bradfords hands were wrapped around the steering wheel, but they weren’t white like they were when you really needed to shut up. (You’d always been observant.)

“But this is the best part of the story.” You pressed.

“Boot, I swear to god-.” Before Bradford could issue whatever threat, he planned too, someone’s voice crackled over the radio.

“7-Adam-100, we have a domestic call at 4195 Clover Drive. Neighbours reported shouting.”

Tim’s face hardened. He glanced briefly at you, and you knew, even without a mirror, that your face had paled a shade. You’d been lucky so far to not have to deal with any DV calls. Guess that luck was over.

“7-Adam-100, show us responding, Code 6.”

Tim floored the breaks a little harder than he objectively needed too.

You could hear the yelling as soon as you pulled into Clover Drive. It was distinctly male, the words harsh and clear, and coming from a house halfway down the street.

It was an effort to clear your head.

“What’s the procedure for a domestic call, boot?” Asked Bradford as you switched off your sirens and approached the house.

You swallowed, “Um.  Get inside the house to assess any damage. Separate the assumed predominant aggressor from the presumed victim or any children if possible. If there doesn’t appear to be violence, there isn’t much we can do, though.”

Bradford nodded tightly. “Good. I’ll take lead on this one.”

“Yes, sir.”

 You knocked on the front door as Bradford called out, alerting the occupants to the polices presence. The yelling stopped immediately.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” Asked a man, probably in his forties. You and Bradford pushed your way into the house as you spoke with him. There was water spilt across the countertop, and a girl in her early teens standing in the kitchen. Her face was tear-streaked, but she appeared unharmed.

“We got reports of yelling from this area, sir.” Came Bradford’s voice from behind you. Your head was starting to spin as memories flooded back to you: late nights, angry words, the occasional smashed plate. Or worse.

You didn’t hear what the man (you assumed he was the girl father) said in response. The teen was watching you and Tim with wide eyes, shaking her head. She rubbed her wrist absentmindedly, and if you weren’t so stuck in your own head, you would’ve thought to ask to see if she was injured. You turned to her father and vaguely registered that he was wearing a wife beater under his button up. Ironic.

“Let’s go, boot.” Bradford snapped, beckoning you over. His jaw was set, and he obviously didn’t believe whatever the man had said. Your head felt like it was underwater as you walked out of the house, and your stomach turned. Memories flooded your head.

Bradford was grumbling under his breath, something about hating the laws around DV in California, when he noticed you stumble towards the bushes outlining the road.

“You good, boot?” He asked, frowning something.

You nodded frantically, “Mmhm… fine, si-.” The ‘sir’ was cut off by the sound of you throwing up in the bushes. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so nothing really came out, but still you dry heaved, clutching your stomach.

“Shit, Y/l/n, are you okay?” Instantly, Tim was at your side, one hand on your back. You nodded vaguely, gesturing for a drink of water. He almost ran to get it. When you could finally breathe, and had swallowed nearly half a litre of water, he asked,

“Jesus, boot, what the hell was that?”

“I’m fine.” You insisted, not wanting to get into some conversation about your past: Bradford wasn’t the understanding type. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Like hell it’s not.” Bradford snapped, guiding you back to the shop. His words were harsh, but his touch gentle. A strange combination, but one that left you feeling comforted. “Listen, boot, if you’ve got something that’s going to make you react to scenes like that, I need to know. Now.”

You shook your head frantically, refusing to open up. As much as you were starting to trust Bradford, you weren’t ready to give him that information. Not when he was the age he was, the build he was, holding so much authority over you

“It’s fine, sir. I swear. It won’t happen again.” You repeated, and you meant it. It wouldn’t happen again.

Tim surveyed you for a moment, watching the guarded expression in your eyes. It was one he recognised, having seen it in his reflection countless times after teachers asked about a suspicious bruise. It was for that reason he relented, though he fully intended to bring it up again. “Fine. But if have something you need to tell me… you can, kid.”

“Yes, sir.”

---

More time passed, and even though you still refused to open about your childhood to Tim (how do you even have that conversation?), you were starting to rely on him.

It was inevitable, you supposed. Unrequited, but inevitable. After all, he was in his mid-forties, an authority figure, admittedly a bit of a dick, but you were gradually (ever so gradually) starting to see a slightly gentler side of him. So of course you looked up to him. You had daddy issues, okay?

It wasn’t a crush. You knew that for sure. You’d half expected it to be, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was a healthy dose of admiration, paired with a slightly-less-healthy dose of please god be proud of me. But that was fine. It was entirely reasonable given he was your TO. You hoped.

---

“You’re under arrest for attempted grand theft auto and possession of illicit substances,” you said, hooking handcuffs around some criminal’s wrists. He’d been a pain in the ass to catch, and you could already feel a bruise blooming across your jaw from his escape attempts. Bradford had, predictably, been unhelpful in the arrest, instead opting to analyse your fighting technique as you’d taken the crook down. He’d even cracked a rare ‘good job’ smile as you’d put the cuffs on.

You pushed the perp against your shop, already halfway through the Miranda Rights: “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights?”

The thief mumbled slightly, and you nodded to Tim to take him off your hands. The second your hands were off him, however, he started complaining. Loudly.

“Aw, come on man. If you’re gonna arrest me, at least let the lady cop throw me ‘round.” He said, looking over his shoulder to grin at you. You scrunched your nose. It wasn’t the first time a suspect had hit on you, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Nothin’? Dude, you gotta… I ain’t going to jail without gettin’ to feel some sweet lady cop ti-! Ow! The hell was that for?”

Tim scowled, hitting the suspect over the back of the head a second time for good measure (or something). “Get your eyes off Officer Y/l/n. You’re not fit to look at her.” He shoved the perp into your shop, rougher than was strictly necessary, and you couldn’t help the slight smile that crept onto your face.

“Really?” You asked, slipping into the shop’s passenger seat.

“What? You got a problem, boot?” Tim said, his voice flat. You just chuckled and shook your head.

“No problem, sir.”  

---

The silence in the shop was unbearable. It was almost lunch, and you’d scarcely said a word all day. You were preoccupied replaying your conversation with your parents from the night before over and over in your head, trying to figure out how them coming over for dinner had dissolved into fighting so quickly.

“You good, boot?” Tim asked after a particularly long stretch of quiet. “Usually I can’t get you to shut up, but you’ve barely said a word today.”

You nodded quickly, forcing yourself to focus. “I’m fine, sir. Sorry. Just tired. Besides, not personal talk in the shop, right?”

“When have you ever followed that rule? You sure you’re good, boot? Because if something’s going on that’ll affect your performance, I need to know.”

“Nothing’s going on. Sir.” You knew the words sounded thin, but what were you going to do? Complain about your parents?

Tim glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “Uh-huh. In that case, what colour was the Lexus we just passed?”

Shit. You hadn’t been paying attention to your surroundings, too lost in your own thoughts. “Uh… silver?”

Another side eye, this one harsher than the last. “There was no Lexus. It was a Camry. And for the record, boot, it was blue.”

“I…” You didn’t really have a defence.

“Seriously, kid. What is going on?”

“Nothing.” You said, and you had to admit, you sounded like a kid. “I just. Had my parents over last night, and it didn’t… go great.”

Instantly, Tim was on edge. He wasn’t proud of the reaction, of the way his stomach instinctively dropped. He knew, he knew, that his version of ‘it didn’t go great’ with family wasn’t the same as most people’s. But this was you. You who’d thrown up at your first DV call, even without any violence. You who’d completely shut down after being yelled at.

Which is why he couldn’t help the immediate questions if: “Are you hurt?”

You tensed. Why would he ask that? “No,” you replied, “I’m not hurt.” It was true, technically. You hadn’t been hit since you were fifteen. And even then, it’d been rare.

Tim’s eyes flicked over you, trying to find a lie. “What happened?” He asked, and his voice had a weird gentleness that made you feel... strange.

You swallowed. Shrugged. “My parents came over for dinner. I did something, I don’t really know what, ‘n pissed my father off.” Your explanation was purposeful vague, but you could help but add: “He broke my favourite mug, which really pissed me off. It’s my apartment, you know? He’s not supposed to be able to break my shit anymore.” A long pause, your father’s furious insults running through your head. “He didn’t like it when I told him that.”

Tim nodded slightly, knowing exactly what you were suggesting. “He insult you?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Despite your cool delivery, the words stung. You looked away, out the window, feeling tears prick at your eyes. You didn’t like talking about this, especially not with Tim. Just because you viewed him as... something, didn’t mean he thought of you ask anything more than a rookie he had to train. A burden.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Tim said, assessing you carefully. “I know what that feels like.”

“You do?” You looked at Tim, curious, and instantly regretted it. The tears welling in your eyes were all too obvious now.

“Yeah. My dad was like that too. I got slapped around my fair share.” Tim’s words were clipped. He clearly also wasn’t fond of talking about his childhood.

“Oh.” What else could you say?

“Listen, boot. I know it’s rough. And you don’t deserve it. But you’re not whatever he says you are, okay?”

You sniffled, hastily wiping your eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

Tim nodded tersely. “Good.” There was a small moment, where Tim placed a hand on your shoulder, and you felt like things might actually be okay. Like you might actually have someone. Then, “Come on, boot. We’ve got six hours of shift left. You gonna focus now?”

---

Tim kept an eye on you the rest of the day. He’d known there was a bit of him in you, but the parallels between your childhoods made his heart crack.

He could see the countless untold stories behind your eyes, ones he’d undoubtedly heard before. And the way you’d tensed when he asked if you were hurt... you hadn’t been hit last night, but you had been before.

He really had tried to not get attached.

And look. He knew you looked up to him. He’d seen the way you preened at praise, the shaky look over to him after making a decision, waiting for his nod of approval, regardless of how confident you were in the decision. He’d tried not to encourage it – limiting praise, refusing to approve your decisions unless you did first. It wasn’t good for a rookie to get that attached to their TO, not when they were only partners for a year. It was especially not good for them to view them as some sort of parental figure. More importantly, Tim Bradford didn’t get attached to his boots.

But goddammit it. The look in your eyes when he’d told you about his dad? It made him abandon all the principles he thought he held so strongly. He’d always wanted a kid, after all.

---

“Does anyone know what day it is today?” Sergeant Grey asked from the front of the roll call room.

You groaned internally. Of course he had to announce it to the whole it room.

A few rows behind you, Officer Chen perked up, grinning, you were sure, at Bradford.

“The day Officer Y/l/n takes her six month exam.” She said.

Cheers and whistles filled the room and you almost buried your head in your hands.

“Boot!” Tim called out. You turned to look at him. “I’ll take it as a personal insult if you don’t get more than a 93 on this exam.”

Great. Like you weren’t stressed enough about the exam already. “Yes, sir.”

As Grey tried to calm the room down, you swallowed, focusing on calming your breathing. You knew what you were doing. You just had to not disappoint Tim. Not forget everything. Not be a total fucking failure.

No pressure, right?

---

Three days later, and you were back in roll call. Grey had written three numbers on the white board. An 84. A 91. And a 95. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the 91 and the 84. Of course you’d failed. Of course. Why hadn’t you worked harder? You’d been a straight A student in high school, and university, why was this different?

“Can anyone guess which of these belongs to Officer Y/l/n?” Grey asked the room. Various answers were shouted out, most leaning towards the 95, until Grey cut them off and said: “The 91. Good work, Officer.”

You could only nod, your head already pounding. You’d failed. Not really, not truly, but enough. And Tim. What would he do?

You didn’t notice everyone leave the room. Didn’t notice Tim approach you, not until he was practically having to shout in your face.

“Boot? Boot! Y/l/n!” The sound of your name, paired with Tim waving a hand in your face, snapped you back to reality.

“Yes, sir?” Your voice had an almost unnoticeable tension to it. A shake. Please, please don’t be mad.

“Let’s go, boot. Why aren’t you getting the war bags?” Tim asked, completely ignoring your test results.

Completely ignoring your test results? What? Why wasn’t he yelling, reaming you out for disappointing him? He’d been very clear with his expectations and he’d never been one to let you down gently if you did something wrong.

“Sir?” You asked, confused.

“What is it, boot?” Tim asked, exasperated. You should’ve been on the road by now. Wait, where you okay...? Your eyes were wide. Almost afraid.

“Why aren’t you mad?”

“What? Why would I be mad-..? Oh.” Tim looked down at you, his face softening as he recalled what he’d said before your test. What you’d told him about your past. “About your test? No, kid, I’m not mad. I was screwing with you when I said you needed to get a 93. A 91 is an excellent result, boot “

“Oh.” You said quietly, looking away sheepishly. Of course he wasn’t mad. This was Tim.

Tim looked at you like you were an idiot, but somehow, you didn’t feel stupid or insulted. “Yeah, oh. You’re not a disappointment, kid. Not to me. Now hurry up and get the war bags sorted.” Tim clapped you on the shoulder as he sent you on your way, and you couldn’t help but think that this was what a father was supposed to be like.

---

“Red or black?” You asked Tim during one shift a month or so later. It was a random question, but you wanted his opinion.

Tim glanced at you. “As concepts, or…?”

“As dress colours.” You elaborated, before hesitantly adding, “I have a date.”

The shop skidded to a stop. “Woah, woah. You have a date? When? With who?” Tim was turning instantly, all his attention on you.

You bit back a laugh. “Tonight. With a boy. Jacob. And I don’t know what to wear.”

Tim frowned. “Where did you meet this ‘Jacob?’” He couldn’t help the protective instinct. The last time one of his rookies went on a date, she got kidnapped. And you weren’t Lucy (he wasn’t in love with you) but he did… care.

“At a bookshop. Calm your farm, Bradford. It’s one date. You really pulling the protective dad card right now?” You smirked, watching the slight red colour Tim’s face.

“I- no. I’m not pulling a card, boot. I’m just… curious.” Tim spluttered, not wanting to admit that he was definitely acting like a protective dad.

“Uh huh. He’s a good guy, Sarge. He’s funny, and sweet, and I actually like him.” You said, as if the concept of actually liking a guy was foreign. It had admittedly been a while since you went on a date. “So, red or black?” You repeated, crossing your arms. Your cheeks were the tiniest bit pink.

Tim glared from the corner of his eye. “Black.”

“Thank you.”

In signature Bradford fashion, Tim huffed and simply said, “For the record, I still don’t like this whole ‘date’ thing, boot.”

---

The date was a success. So much of a success, in fact, that three dates later, Jacob came to pick you up after work the next day. It was adorable, and he showed up with fresh flowers and a planned date, and it would’ve been perfect, if you hadn’t been leaving the station with Officer Bradford.

The same Bradford who’d been demanding more information about “this Jacob person” ever since you’d first mentioned a date.

So, while you were excited about the date, you weren’t thrilled at seeing Jacob stand in front of you, levelled by one of Tim’s many practiced glares.

“Who are you?” Tim asked, crossing his arms. He knew exactly who he was.

“I’m Jacob…?” Your boyfriend said hesitantly, trying to figure out why the man in front of him was staring at him so intimidatingly.

You winced and jumped in quickly. “Jake, this is Tim. My TO?”

Recognition clicked quickly in Jacob’s eyes.  He instantly stuck out a hand to Tim, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Uh huh.” Tim raked his eyes over Jacobs outstretched hand, but didn’t shake it. “You got a last name, Jacob?”

“Anderson.” Jacob supplied immediately, lips twitching faintly in amusement.

“What do you do, Anderson? If you say screenwriter, you’re going in a cell.”

Jacob chuckled. “I’m a teacher, sir.” Tim didn’t look impressed, but he didn’t look totally disgusted either. Which, to you, was a win.

“Is this the part where you tell me not to hurt Y/n?” Jacob asked with a barely contained grin.

Tim glowered. “Yes. In fact, consider this your one and only warning. Hurt her, and I’ll find a way to make you spend the rest of your life in a cell.” Tim crossed his arms over his chest, and God you were glad he’d never given you that look before.

Pitying your partner, you jumped in and placed yourself between the two most important men in your life. “Oookay, Bradford, chill. We’re going to go now. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay, sir?”

“Uh-huh. See you tomorrow, Boot.” Tim’s words came out tense, and he didn’t take his eyes off you until you were well out of the carpark.

---

The day had arrived. You’d officially been a police officer for an entire year. You weren’t a rookie anymore.

It was everything you’d dreamed of it being.

“Finally, congratulations to Officer Y/l/n for completing the FTO program and surviving her rookie year. Welcome, officially, to the team, Y/l/n.” Grey walked over to you, shaking your hand proudly. “Good work, kid.”

“Thank you, sir.” You beamed, returning the handshake. Grey dismissed the rest of roll call, and you walked out of the room. You could barely make it a few steps without someone grabbing you, hugging you or congratulating you in some way. You’d never been happier.

You reached the edge of the room and were met with Sergeant Bradford, a rare smile on his face.

“Congratulations, Y/l/n.” He said, reaching out a hand.

“Don’t even try.” You said, knocking his hand out of the way and pulling him into a hug. It was unprofessional, you knew, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from your boyfriend, Tim had managed to become one of the most important people in your life over the past year.

Tim froze for a moment, but gently returned the hug, patting your back a couple times. You thought you heard Harper snicker from across the room. You definitely heard Lucy say the word ‘Dadford.’ She wasn’t… entirely wrong. You had found a father in Tim. Maybe one day he’d even admit it – in actual words, not just actions. You still laughed every time you thought about his interrogation of Jacob when they’d first met.

You pulled back and only then did you shake Tim’s hand. “Thank you, sir. For everything.”

Tim nodded, the smile lines by his eyes crinkling. “You’re welcome… Y/n. I’m proud of you, kid.”

You smiled softly and forced yourself to only say, “Have a good shift… Tim,” before hurrying away. But as you got into your shop (your shop, for the first time), you didn’t stop a few happy tears from falling.

---

You were nervous. It was your second time riding with Tim since graduating the FTO program and you were nervous. It had nothing to do with riding with Tim, however, and everything to do with what you were going to ask him.

“Tim?” You asked, hesitant.

“Yeah, Y/l/n?”

“I have to tell you something.” You fiddled with your left hand nervously, already missing the weight on your finger.

Instantly, Tim was softening and frowning, “Are you okay, kid?”

“Yes! Yeah, I’m okay.” This time you actually meant it. “I have news, though.”

“Oh?” Tim turned to you for a second, before looking back at the road. “What is it?”

You swallowed, and then, “Jacob asked me to marry him. I said yes.”  

Tim had finally come around to Jacob a few months ago. Little did you know, but Jacob had actually asked Tim’s permission before proposing. You’d told him once about how you wished you had a father that you still spoke to, just for that reason. Jacob had known Tim was the next best thing.

Tim smiled widely, “Congratulations, Y/n. I’ll be expecting an invite to the wedding.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you about that.” This was where the nervousness was coming in. You were pretty sure the butterflies in your stomach had reached your lungs too.

“What is it?” Tim tilted his head slightly.

“Will you walk me down the aisle?” Tim froze, shocked. You quickly rambled on, as you so often did when nervous, “You don’t have to, I just-.. I don’t talk to my bio dad, and you’re the closest thing I have to a father, and it would mean a lot to me, and-.”

“Relax, Y/l/n,” Tim cut you off with a smile. “I would be honoured to walk you down the aisle.”

The smile on your face then was the third biggest you’d ever smiled. The first had been when you’d graduated the FTO program, and the second when Jacob had proposed. But this… this was an entirely different feeling. This was the feeling of your whole life, finally working out. You had a career, a fiancé, and now, a father. A real one, who never insulted you or made you feel worthless.

What more could you ask for?

fin

!! DO NOT REPUBLISH OR FEED TO AI !!

[therookie-rambles]

Season 7 finale out of context

[dreamingaboutsakuratrees]

the absolute lack of 9-1-1 × The Rookie crossovers is appalling, considering both Buck and Nolan are from Pennsylvania, they both happen in LA, and Nyla and Athena would absolutely be besties

[heartofetherea]

Seeing Nyla get her flowers from Nolan this episode made me cry like a baby.

Nyla is my favorite character in this show and is almost never recognized in such an emotionally important way.

There are the passing remarks about what a badass she is, how cool she is, or even how funny she is, but rarely a genuine heartfelt compliment that is an emotionally moving scene.

Seeing Nolan recognize her as his hero, and not only that but as a great mother and actually saying that to her face makes my heart so happy.

Safe to say she always has been and always will be my number 1.

[kim-ruzek]

lucy comforting nyla and holding her hand oh i love the rookie women so much

[cafedanslanuit]

there's something very visceral about me and college!shigaraki, i just

you get me???? i don't know what is it tbh

this is also an open invitation for you to send me college/university au's with shigaraki on it. i feel i've read every single one on ao3 already dskfjhds

[whumpbug]

GUYS IT'S TIME. i now introduce.....

THE SCARAB CREW!!!!!! 𓆣𓆣

(scarab is the name of the ship they are all on do you guys get it. because. whumbug. beetle. scarab. the ship is shaped like a beetle--okay im done)

the vibes/tropes are: sci-fi/space fantasy, dysfunction junction, found family, accidental child acquisition, AND MORE!!!

HUGE thank you to @lemlem21 for listening to me Yap about them and helping me iron out a lot of the details!!! also for recoloring some of the skincolors!!!!

i apologize in advance. this is a long post. please please feel free to ask questions because this can get confusing. there are 6 characters all with complex traits and names so please ask me for clarification if you need it! i apologize for all the reading guys (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥⋆)

OKAY! ONTO MY SPACE SILLIES! they are Everything to me.

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THE EXPEDITION PROGRAM (TEP):

okay just before i start, i want to briefly explain why all these people are together on a ship.

in this universe, theres a central government that spans across many planets in neighboring star systems. this is known as the Provinces of the Allied Galactic Empire (PAGE). this is the explored and "civilized" part of the galaxy.

recently, there have been more attacks on PAGE-affiliated planets and systems from the unexplored galaxy (known as the Outer Sector, or just Outsec in shorthand) and PAGE intends to get to the bottom of it.

and that's where Scarab Crew comes in! multiple teams were formed of people with exceptional talents in their species/planets and were sent on multi-year long exploratory missions under the name The Expedition Program (TEP). the scarabs are one team of many!

TEP's goal is to record and report all that they find as well as identify threats and/or the planets responible for the attacks. they are to come back with information and new technology that would make PAGE stronger and more well-rounded!

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NOW ONTO THE SILLIES!! i used different picrws for each of them to match their Vibe

(also i added pronounciation guides to the best of my abilities i hope it helps im sorry in advance)

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Captain Nieven Alaric (Nee-ven Ah-la-rik)

pronouns: he/him

role: captain/leader/correspondence with PAGE

planet of origin:  Asto’is (species: Asto’isian)

age and height: late '30s to early '40s / 6 ft. 0 in.

description: the competent, calculated, and and cold head of The Scarab. he was a well-off government official before TEP, but unfortunately, he lost his family in an attack by Outsec rogues. he is a man hardened by life and unwilling to get attached to others again and because of this, is very efficient when it comes to running his ship. still, efficiency is not always the most important thing when it comes to leading a team. this is something nieven must learn.

species-specific traits: horns on the top of the head-- very interconnected with the central nervous system. decorated as a sign of age and/or accomplishment. also, asto'isians have pointy teeth! they are carnivores!

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Hari Khurana (Huh-ree Ku-rahna)

pronouns: relaxed he/him

role: engineer/medic/chemist

planet of origin:  Earth (species: Homo Sapien)

age and height: mid to late '30s / 6 ft. 2 in.

description: a simple human that started from the bottom. hari grew up in a trailer park, raised by his older sister when his father worked 3 jobs to put food on the table. since he was little, it was known he was a genius when it came to stem subjects. into adulthood, he excelled in every stem job he took on. still, no one expected him to get singled out when TEP was recruiting. aside from his smarts, hari is cheeky, sly, a bit of a Bastard™ but he also has tremendously big heart. he's passionate about what he does, no matter how hard it can be for him sometimes.

species-specific traits: despite his brains, hari is... a defective human. due to malnourishment as a child, he has a plethora of health problems that worry his team to no end. some include: asthma, lactose intolerance, allergies to many foods, marie antoinette syndrome, POTS, among others. he is also a below-the-knee amputee on his left leg due to an accident in his teens.

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Nylathrania (Nyla) Qifir (Nye-lah-trah-nya Kee-feer)

pronouns: she/her

role: pilot/navigator

planet of origin: Harye (species: Haryen)

age and height: mid '20s / 5 ft. 7 in.

description: the haryan are an extremely superstitious, winged race that place an extreme importance on flight. when a child was born with in inability to even lift her wings because of nerve damage, you can imagine it did not bode well. nyla was passed around from household to household with no place to call home. she wants to prove herself to her homeland by becoming the most successful pilot in TEP with her pride and joy of a ship, The Scarab, but even that will never make her good enough for her people, and consequently, herself.

species-specific traits: the bat-like wings and short horns are trademarks of the haryen people. unlike nieven's, nyla's horns are simply bony-keratin structures as extra protection for her brain. her wings are a bit smaller than other haryen's due to muscle atrophy.

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Ytzel (Zel) Mixca (Ee-tsel Micsh-cka)

pronouns: relaxed she/her

role: gunsman/conflict strategist

planet of origin: Huelxa (species: Huelxcan)

age and height: mid '20s / 5 ft. 4 in.

description: born to a planet of war, zel grew up around bloodshed and violence throughout her life. in her culture, getting close to people was discouraged becasue you never knew who would be on the other side of the next civil war. she was often forced to fight her siblings and friends (to an extreme level) as a test of strength, so she comes off as abrasive and rude because violence makes her feel in control. it's a familiar pattern. she hasn't yet learned that love does not need to be painful.

species-specific traits: the huelxcan actually have a second pair of arms! these arms sit slightly more towards her back, in the middle of her rib cage. the huelxcan people also have evolved with enhanced hearing, and wear accessories on the ears to enhance it further.

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Vin’ri (Vinny) L’aoh (Vin-ree Luh-ow)

pronouns: they/them

role: scribe/recorder/photographer

planet of origin: Z’edin (species: Z’edinra)

age and height: late teens (17-19) / 5 ft. 9 in.

description: vinny is heralded as the voice of reason when tensions are high amongst the rest of the crew. they are level-headed and approachable, making them an instrumental member of the team. but their secret? they're so lonely. in their culture, it's customary to stop being affectionate with children when they reach about 14 to encourage growth and independence. vinny didn't have a problem with this at first, but now that they're so far from home? they feel the need for comfort more than they'd like to admit.

species-specific traits: the z’edinra all have a prehensile tail that is about an armspan in length. it is capable of grasping, and can hold their body weight. also, z'edin is an ice planet which leads vinny to be prone to overheating in even mildly warm environments quite easily

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Ren "Alaric" (Rehn Ah-la-rick)

pronouns: he/him

role: healer/newest member (not with scarab crew initially)

planet of origin: Siea W5M (species: Amb’toman)

age and height: about 7 years old / 4 ft. 3 in.

description: ren's parent's were killed when he was only 4, and he was taken to Seia W5M to be sold as a commodity-- his species is sought after for their abilities. he was under the ownership of a man for a few years before he escaped and has been on the run ever since. he covers his eyes with a blindfold to conceal the signature trait of amb'tomans-- white scleras lacking a cornea. because of his years blindfolded, light tends to overwhelm him. he is skittish, flighty, and in need of people who will take care of and love him.

species-specific traits: the amb'toman are a desert-dwelling species that evolved healing abilities to cope with the harsh climate. the short version of how the abilities work is essentially: people spend a certain amount of energy to heal themselves of injury or illness. ren can spend that energy all at once on himself or another person to heal them exponetially faster. the draw back is gets extremely sleepy after healing, and tends to be unable to stay awake

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RELATIONSHIPS: ask me about them!!! there are Some romantic relationships but i also love platonic and familial relationships so ask about whoever you'd like! i'm aiming to start the story early on to when they first meet so it'll be fun to develop their relationships as i write!!

PICREWS: 1 2 3 4 5 6

BONUS: here is all their height differences (ren is itty bitty guys)

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and that's it!!! thank you SO much if you've read to the end, it honestly means so much. and like i said before please please PLEASE dont be afraid to ask as many questions as you want (about specific scarabs, or the crew as a whole but just know if its the crew it might not be as detailed because. theres 6 of them.) these characters can get confusing and i want to make as easy of a reading experience as i can!

i hope you enjoy my little passion project and im so excited to develop these sillies further!! (✿◦’ᴗ˘◦)♡

tagging: @sethlost and @mellowwhumps (≧▽≦)

[mamamittens]

I've been planning that damn pantry scene in my head for ages AND I STILL HAVEN'T GOTTEN LUCANIS IN THE FIC YET

so! Here's spoilers for the current dialogue idea lmao

So, it starts off with Taash having gotten Nyla to deal with Spite in the pantry, obvs

And so, Lucanis is standing there, glowing eyes and all.

Spite is super pleased, naturally, since he's been wanting to talk with Nyla for a while now

"Now. We get to talk." He grins, too much teeth for Lucanis' normal, restrained smile.

"Sure thing! Been meaning to for a while now-- What did you need, baby?" Nyla smiles, pretty damn sure that Spite wasn't currently threatening to her. He looked pleased at least.

"We had. A deal. And Lucanis won't! Keep it!" He complained with a snarl.

"That doesn't sound like him, he's very particular about his word. But it would explain the issues you two have been having. What'd he promise? Maybe I can help?" If it was possible, Spite would be preening right now.

"Yes! Help! He promised!" Spite barked. "Break our chains. Kill. Escape our prison. And live."

Nyla wanted to protest that they did that, but... She looked around the pantry.

"Ah... I imagine Lucanis understood that more literally than you did. And while you're both living, this can hardly be considered really living, can it? Sleeping in a pantry? Food is great, but sleeping with the cheese wheel is usually considered beneath someone." Nyla sighed with a shake of her head.

Spite snarled, throwing up his hands in frustration.

"I want! Out!" Spite nearly screamed.

"Hey, easy there baby, I get it. This isn't ideal for anyone!" Nyla hesitantly reached out, shocked that Spite let her approach. Allowed her to place her hands on his face soothingly, leaning into the affection. "Oh, honey. This has to be so rough, people saying things but meaning something else. And when you try to explain how bullshit it is, they get offended!" Spite nodded, almost drunk as his breathing leveled out.

"Lucanis. Won't listen!" Spite hissed.

"Yeah? And you two can't just walk away to cool off, either. He doesn't understand what's got you so riled up, assumes you just want to rip everything apart because you're a 'demon'. And anytime you try to explain, it doesn't get through to him either, does it, baby?" Nyla asked softly. "I know it's hard, and you're certainly not used to it, but you're going to have to be more patient with each other as you find a middle ground. Unless we find a solution to your... Living arrangement, you've got the rest of Lucanis' life stuck together. That's quite a while to be at each other's throats, dear."

Spite's lip curled in a low hiss.

"He. Promised!" Spite narrowed his eyes at her, hands gripping her wrists harshly. "I. Want. Out!" Nyla winced at the bruising grip and Spite froze, letting go of her and stepping back suddenly. Expression at war between frustration and disgust. A snarl rising in his throat as his anger overwhelmed him.

"TELL HIM! MAKE HIM--!"

Despite clearly losing control, Spite maintained a healthy distance from her until it all suddenly disappeared. Tension lifting from his bent frame all at once, Lucanis looking up with confused brown eyes. Utterly perplexed to see her standing there.

"Wh-What? Nyla, why... Was I...?"

"You were sleepwalking. And I suppose Spite sleep talking? Nothing happened though, I promise. Taash noticed and got me as quick as they could." Nyla reassured him, but Lucanis looked horrified.

"Mierda. I-I... I didn't want you to see that. Again." Lucanis breathed out heavily, looking down in shame.

"Oh, love, there's nothing to be ashamed of. I'll always come see you, even if you didn't ask, technically--in fact, you'll have to try a lot harder than that if you want to get rid of me." Nyla smiled.

Lucanis looked up at her in surprise.

"How do you always do that?"

"Do what? Be stubborn? I'm not the one literally carrying 'Spite', thought you'd know more about that than I do." She joked, but Lucanis shook his head, lips quirked in a crooked smile.

"No. Dispell my carefully gathered clouds of doom." He looked so resigned about it all as he spoke, like he was already certain, "You deserve better than to deal with my mess."

Nyla laughed at that, her mouth running from her without thought.

"Haven't you heard, baby? Every cloud has a silver lining--and lucky for you, you look utterly dashing in silver. So wear those dark clouds all you want, it only makes you more handsome when you do." Nyla teased, watching his expression shift in a way she hadn't seen before.

Almost... Sultry.

Which was weird. Because she'd certainly never had someone look at her like that before.

Lucanis didn't speak as he slowly crossed the distance between them, bracing himself on the wall beside her. Leaning in a little closer than she'd ever had him outside of a fight. Coffee and expensive cologne drifting around her in a gentle haze.

"This isn't a good idea." Lucanis informed her softly, voice low and very pleasing with a soft, gravely rumble.

"You know, of all the things I've been called, 'sensible' isn't one of them." Nyla pointed out curiously.

Lucanis meant being his friend, right? Because, yeah, being close friends with a master assassin was objectively a bad idea.

But Nyla wouldn't trade him for anything! All of her friends here--she never wanted to let them go.

Rook, a soft, distant voice, sighed in the back of Nyla's head. A heartfelt curse in Antivan somewhere between 'Andraste's knickers' and 'why must I suffer fools'.

Which was weird, because while Rook usually didn't comment much, it usually made more sense when she did.

Lucanis jerked, a restrained snort catching her sensitive ears.

His dark eyes considering her closely. Even more so than before.

"You like to walk a little close to the edge."

His words caught in her head.

He didn't mean--she knew that.

Nyla knew he couldn't mean that. Had no way of knowing--Nyla smiled, all too practiced at distraction on that topic.

"Is that worry I hear? From the master assassin? You live on the edge, it's only fitting that I'm comfortable there too." Nyla said, the words tasting like ash on her tongue.

Three quarters of an inch had never felt so far that day.

"At least I know I'm doing it." Lucanis countered, his eyes drifting lower. His body leaning in closer...

She was all too aware--

Then, something happened.

Nyla realized how close Lucanis was.

It was silly to think now of all times. He'd been well in arm's reach for a good bit now. His handsome face suddenly feeling too close. Far closer than he, or anyone else, had ever been to Nyla. The warmth of his breath and body settling onto her like a comforting blanket, scented of coffee and expensive hygiene products befitting a wealthy assassin with pride in his appearance.

But rather than be utterly repelled, wanting her personal space back, Nyla bizarrely wanted Lucanis closer. A sudden desire that she'd never felt before. So ridiculous, in fact, that it left her frozen, staring into his soft, heated brown eyes until there was a flash of something in them.

A flicker of pink.

"I... Need to clear my head." Lucanis jerked back suddenly, hand coming up to his nose as he retreated from the room.

"A-Ah! Lucanis! Wait a second--Honey, this is your room?!? Why are you--" but he was already gone. Nyla left with the lingering heat of his breath on her lips and face flushed.

"You're an IDIOT! HE WAS TRYING TO KISS YOU!!!" Rook screamed in her head, Nyla jerking back from the sheer volume.

"What? No--that doesn't sound right. I can't kiss him, this is your body that would be wrong!" Nyla protested.

"Oh? So you also wanted to kiss him, hmm? Because I was talking about him, not you!" Nyla froze, sitting with that challenge for a moment.

Slowly, her fingers pressed onto her lips.

"Oh..."

"Yeah, 'oh'! Andraste's flaming knickers, how did you not realize that?!?"

"... I never wanted to kiss someone before. Oh no... I did want him to kiss me, didn't I?" Nyla's heart sank. "Oh, honey... What a mess I've gotten myself into! I can't! I can't possibly do that!"

"Why the fuck not?! I say, go find that dumbass and grab him by the lapels and kiss the shit out of him!" Rook declared with fire.

"Rook, baby, I can't do that in your body!"

"Why not?! I say go for it! What's holding you back?! I promise I don't care--at least he's easy on the eyes and a damn good assassin! I've slept with worse!" Rook swore.

"I--No! Absolutely not!" Nyla protested. "I can't... I can't have my first kiss like this. As someone else! Or even more than that--only to go back home and wonder if I'd ever had a chance as myself. I can't... I can't do that to myself, Rook. And I won't disrespect you by trying anyway when you can't stop me!" She hissed.

Rook fell silent.

"Oh, hermana... I'm so sorry. I promise it's okay if you do, but... Alright. I won't push... Now get out of the damn pantry before he realizes he ran out of his own room." Rook huffed.

Nyla laughed wetly and nodded. Suddenly realizing her wrists ached, the tanned skin coloring darker with bruises.

"Ah, beans... I should take care of those before someone makes assumptions." Nyla mused.

[griffin-wood]

— the main attraction; aka the lead singers for battle of the bands. ( @infamous-if )

[nylaboon]

my early april fools prank was me saying that the warren fic would come out in a month lmao

[nevereclipse]

father figure tim bradford headcannons

because i want him to be my dad

you started out as his boot. you did NOT respond well to being yelled at (you actually responded perfectly but you shut down/changed your behavior after and tim saw himself and promptly decided to adjust his teaching style)

sees his younger self in you and Hates It b/c he can tell how hurt you are

can tell you see him as a father figure and fights it at first but eventually gives in

you call him crying one (1) time and he just goes "well this is my kid now"

pretends to be annoyed by your antics but secretly finds it endearing

actually tells you hes proud of you (you cry)

"you good, kid?" "you okay, kid?" "not bad, kid."

helps you through panic attack and ALWAYS sees through it when you lie abt being fine

someone you're arresting hits on you/is creepy and tim WHACKS him on the back of the head

he demands to meet whoever you're dating as soon as it gets even a little serious

he then gives them The Dad Talk

walks you down the aisle when you get married

soo protective. he goes actually Insane when you get hurt once.

"you took my kid, i'm going to make sure you spend the rest of your life in a cell."

these may feature in an upcoming fic... if i actually write it...

[therookie-rambles]

GOING FERAL

[wheelsupin-azarathmetrionzinthos]

Chapter 4: The Moon and the Man

Summary: After a tragedy, Lucy and Tim realize their feelings can't stay unsaid.

New Chapter! Hope you all enjoy it!

[rosecoloredmuses]

((Just got back home from seeing Novocaine with my dad! It’s supposed to come out next week but we saw it through the Screen Unseen thing AMC does. It’s obviously done to generate word of mouth but still! It was an incredibly fun movie that didn’t leave me feeling disappointed. I can tell the people making the movie got super creative when finding ways for the main character to fight while getting the gnarliest injuries imaginable. I liked the humor, too!))

[whumpbug]

Very curious about the Scarab Crew and enthusiastic to know more about them!! Seriously I love all six of them so so much already

Some things I'm curious about

What are each of their stress responses / coping mechanisms? Like when they're having big feelings what do they do to cool off or how do they go about hiding it if that's more their jam

What are your FAVORITE platonic or familial relationships on the crew and why

What are some foods that exist in this sci-fi world and what are the taste preferences and favorite dish of all the members of the crew? (Something from their home planet? Something often served at space stations? A treat they have on board every once in a while?)

I know a few of these are probably loaded questions so it's cool if it takes you a while to answer or you don't have time or something. I am Very excited for future content regardless

ANON!! this is a great question and so so good for their development THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

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stress responses:

nieven:

nieven's coping mechanism to trauma is removal and isolation. when tensions rise in the ship, or he's feeling overwhelmed, he retreats to his quarters and stays there until he can clear his head. he'll usually get some work done or some cleaning done, but he just generally wants to be Away from the others. he doesn't want to be seen when hes like that because what if they think him a weak leader?

hari:

hari's stress response is... odd. he laughs. he laughs it off or elects to ignore it because that is easier than facing it head on. he chooses to make light of his own bad situations because that also makes it easier for everyone else to deal with. if a situation arises where he can't laugh it off, he locks himself in his room and breaks down. he shows no one.

nyla:

sweet girl. she is very confrontational if something is wrong and she has no problems sharing how she feels on a surface level. if someone pissed her off? she's telling them. if something is stressing her out? she airs it out and vents to anyone who'll listen. but when it comes to her deep inner struggles? her insecurities? she keeps those close to her chest. she can't let anyone use them against her.

zel:

answer is simple. she punches. as soon as she feels a flicker of frustration, she heads to the training room on the ship and starts beating the ever-loking crap out of the dummies. she punches and kicks and tackles until her muscles are aching and her fists are raw and bloodies but at least she can breathe again. at least the pain in her chest isn't from emotion and is from something productive.

vinny:

when they're stressed, they retreat to their room to study. studying gives them something to focus on other than whatever theyre feeling and they also enjoy feeling productive and useful. they can't let the others think that they need them. they can't be perceived as weak or childish. they have to be independent.

ren:

oh baby boy. his defense mechanism to almost anything that stressed him or makes him upset is hide. he finds the nearest cupboard and curls into a ball with his knees to his chest and makes himself as small as possible. maybe if he takes up less space, he'll be less of a problem. (the crew spends a good 20 minutes looking for him everytime he does this, only nieven can coax him out)

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my favorite platonic relationship at the moment is either nieven and vinny or vinny and ren!!!

nieven and vinny are everything to me. they are exactly what they each needed. nieven lost his family in an awful accident-- he has so much love and grief and he's too emotionally constipated to know what to do with it and then you have this teenager who is so touch and affection starved who emotionally lost their parents at 14 because they were supposed to be fine on their own and they're not and UGH. im so normal about these two.

and vinny with ren.... my goodness. these two are THE SIBLINGS EVER. vinny dotes on ren so much. they love him with their whole heart. nieven makes ren feel safe, sure, but vinny is who starts to bring out ren's real personality out. they help him to just feel like a kid again, and in turn become in touch with their own inner child and its jsut. UGH they're so good for eachother.

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food / treats on board?

i'm just going to list some common foods (or at least the space equivalent) they have stocked and who eats them!! hope this answers your question!!

fruit ice pops: ren and vinny

space version of korean ice cream in fish-shaped waffle: ren!!!

not food but cigarettes: nieven is a chain smoker i fear. (spigarettes, if you will. that's another of his coping mechanisms)

huelxcan beans and rice: everyone except nieven. this man can not handle spice. he disintegrates.

pani puri: hari!! and the rest of the crew! (except nieven if they make it spicy.)

this is just a few! i'm sure more will come up in future fics!!!

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thank you for the question anon!!!! i love love love developing the scarabs they mean everything to me YAYYY!!!