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returntothefalls · 1 year

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Behind-the-Scenes of Return to the Falls

I did a post like this once before covering the first two chapters, so it seems about time to do another one covering the next four chapters! I like to think I’ve got a few interesting tidbits here at least:

IQ-tie

The working title for this chapter was “Mabel and the Smarty Pines”, which never quite sat right with me, but I had a hard time thinking of something better. What would become the titular pun was originally on Mabel’s sweater, which said “IQ and QT”. But then when I was trying to think of a better title, @immaplatypus told me the similar pun – that Mabel was an IQ-tie – and it immediately stood out to both of us that it would be a much better title.

Is Trivi-o’s a lame name for a cereal? I debated about it and decided yes, it is, and that is good. A lame name for a lame cereal.

I did a lot of second-guessing myself about the logistics of the Sfinx and her very existence, but I’m glad in the end I didn’t let myself overthink it too much. I’m really happy with how she turned out.

Much like the previous chapter, I wasn’t totally sure of how the heroes were going to turn the tables at the climax, and then when I separately thought up Carla’s “It’s for … arson” line in reference to her lighter, then I decided that’d be a good ole Chekov’s gun to bail them out. But there was an early draft in which Carla piloted McGucket’s sphinx robot like an anime mech to beat the crap out of the Sfinx herself, so that’s fun to think about.

Challenge of the Hunt

The theme of the chapter always centered around the idea that there are more ways to win a challenge than simply playing along, but the finer details of the plot went through some major changes. In one particularly bleak version, the Hunt was the ghost of a child who was abandoned in the woods and was misguidedly trying to protect Dipper and Mabel from their Grunkles, but that never felt quite right to me.

Skull Kid from The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask was a major visual and behavioral inspiration for the Hunt, though they ended up being very different in the end. My original sketches of the Hunt even included a very Majora-esque mask.

Originally instead of having a pet wolf, the Hunt was going to transform into a giant wolf-like beast themself during their chase. I later decided that having a pet wolf to help would add to the huntsman theme, plus it just didn’t feel like a very sporting ability for the Hunt to have themself.

On a related note, if the joke wasn’t obvious, the Hunt’s wolf is named Virginia as a pun on the author, Virginia Woolf.

Originally instead of taking trophies from the losers of their game, the Hunt was going to just straight-up murder them, with it being implied that the Manotaur from the beginning was killed, but that was darker than I wanted and made it feel harder to let them off scot-free at the end, so I’m glad I had the trophy idea instead. Plus that led to some fun Stan dialogue, so it’s a win-win!

The chapter didn’t originally feature Candy and Grenda but I was really itching to write for them and already had other side characters to focus on in upcoming chapters, so I threw them in here. I’m really glad too, got some great material out of their inclusion.

Grenda’s middle name being “Papercut” is, of all things, a Kick Buttowski reference, where Carl Faruolo, Grenda’s voice actor, voices a former wrestler named Papercut Peterson.

The original version of the “Grenda tramples the Hunt” scene instead had her and Dipper being ambushed by the Hunt and her instinctive response being to pick up the Hunt and throw them like a shot put. I really wish I’d found a way to incorporate that because it’s such a hilarious image to me.

The whole bit of dialogue in the pit with Stan rambling about digging out was graciously provided by @immaplatypus

I had various different ideas for the Hunt’s “trophy room”. The first was going to be something Dipper and the others stumble on while fleeing that really gets them freaked out about what the Hunt can do, but I struggled to organically fit it in and thought things were getting kind of long anyway, so instead I made it the sight of the climactic showdown with the Hunt.

For anyone not catching the joke, Stan calling the Hunt “Helen” is a reference to actress Helen Hunt.

The Carla and Soos subplot was born from this being one of my oldest chapter ideas, at a point in which I hadn’t even added Carla to the story yet, so I realized much later on that I just completely forgot to ever add her to this chapter. And since Soos wasn’t a part of the family camping trip, then that all worked out perfectly to pair him up with Carla. And I’m really glad it did, because their scenes were some of my favorites I’ve written so far.

Scrapped line from Soos, reassuring Carla about her place in the Shack: “Rudeness is polite in this house! It’s just like Mr. Pines always says: get off the premises or I’ll shoot!”

There’s not really any significance to the Hunt being a deer-fox. I wasn’t drawing from any particular inspiration, it was just two animals associated with hunting that I thought made a good aesthetic, and I think I’d been watching Hilda (which also features a deerfox) around the time I was initially sketching them.

Some other possibilities I considered for the ending cryptogram:

YOU JUST LOST THE GAME – if you get this, you’re liable for a senior’s discount

IT REMINDS ME OF THE HUNT – an obscure Fairly OddParents quote I think of daily

THE HUNT HUNTER HAS BECOME THE HUNT HUNTED – the word “hunt” really just gets used a lot in this chapter

The Sorceford’s Apprentice

Once again, Robbie’s song was spur-of-the-moment spit out by Jessica. Everyone go love up on her and her extraordinary talents.

Instead of a possum king, Dipper and Gideon were originally going to deal with a squirrel king that is defeated because Gideon is a true southern gentleman and always carries cashews in his pockets.

Supernatural Speakeasy

Here’s one passage from the town meeting that I had to cut for pacing but nevertheless love a lot: “I’m still temporarily deprived of my wealth,” Preston Northwest said. “And my pyramid scheme – I mean perfectly legitimate business – needs buyers. And I’ve already ripped off – I mean marketed to – almost everyone in town.” He leaned over to the Pizza Guy sitting beside him. “Hey, chum, have you heard of essential oils?”

Demusa is 100% voiced by Susan Egan. She’s gotta be dripping with sultry like Meg from Hercules.

Pacifica was going to be obnoxious BFFs with C-Beth but then I had the idea for Gideon and C-Beth’s interaction and the concept of Demusa came to me.

A scrapped subplot would have had Mabel claim to be over the dating game, but Dipper is afraid she’ll fall back into old habits, so he tries to make her oblivious to any “dateable” creatures, which is difficult since there are now swarms of them in the Shack, and he doesn’t want another Norman situation. I got rid of it because it just wasn’t working out smoothly and was just enjoying all the other minor conversations, but it persisted slightly in the existence of the Wolf Boy.

There are a few vague allusions here to a scrapped chapter that would have focused on Multi-Bear and his backstory. It never worked out great and it felt shoehorned in as a continuation of old plots (namely that of Dipper vs. Manliness), so I never did much with it. It would have involved a Russian ringmaster creating a circus of freaks and capturing the Manotaurs, forcing Leaderaur to team up with Multi-Bear and Dipper to save them. I don’t remember my exact backstory for Multi-Bear but it was going to involve Mayor Befuftlefumpter of all people being the adoptive brother of Multi-Bear, and Leaderaur as a childhood friend of both. It was all really weird and it’s good that it was thrown out on the curb where it belongs.

The ending cryptogram is a reference to a quote from Sgt. Frog Abridged on Youtube.

That’s all for now, hope some of you found this at least a little amusing! Thanks so much for reading and sticking around! And keep your eyes peeled for the sneak peek of the next chapter!

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #disney #not what he seems #behind the scenes #return to the falls #iq-tie #challenge of the hunt #the sorceford’s apprentice #supernatural speakeasy

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awakefor48hours · 9 months

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Shows you should save physically immediately

Over the Garden Wall -- It's being pulled from HBO Max on August 31 and knowing HBO, there's a chance it'll be pulled sooner. *I have now made a Google Drive of all the episodes of OTGW. Please, please, please, PLEASE, save these on a physical device.

The Owl House -- Disney has tried to bury this show many times (giving it a weird release schedule, cutting the budget, etc) and has even cancelled the show. Also, Disney+ is going to nuke their catalogue soon and I doubt TOH will survive*I have now also saved all the episodes of TOH. Click here for the posts with all of the episodes

Amphibia -- I know less about the behind the scenes BS than TOH but Amphibia was screwed over by Disney mainly by poor promotion. Also since one of the protagonist is openly bisexual*, like TOH, I really can't imagine this would survive.*Amphibia has also been saved. Go here for the post with all the episodes.

Steven Universe -- Cartoon Network cancelled Steven Universe and gave it a weird release schedule, it has also just been pulled from HBO Max.

Gravity Falls -- Once again, Disney+ is going to nuke their catalogue at some point in the future and between Wendy being canonically bi, Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland being in a relationship, and Alex Hirsch (being the amazing man that he is) constantly calling Disney out on their BS, I imagine that Disney would be more than willing to nuke Gravity Falls. *I’ve also saved Gravity Falls now go to the main post here to see all the episodes.

and most importantly

Every single show, book, game, fanfiction, movie, etc you've ever loved

We now know that at any moment's notice, streaming services can and will just nuke their catalogue without hesitation. If it's digital, it can be removed and there's a likely chance you'll never see it again.

So, please take some time to save anything you love on an external device. It could be a box set (it can be official or fan-made one), a USB, or anything.

If you have a physical copy of something, it's yours forever and no one can take that away from you.

*Edit because I’ve seen some confusion about this. Read this again, it’s “one of the protagonists” not “the protagonist.” Sasha is the one who’s bi, Anne’s sexuality hasn’t been confirmed.

Also in addition to this, people have reblogged this to say Steven Universe is still on HBO. Since I don’t have HBO, I’ve been going off of what people have been saying and I’ve seen it mentioned that HBO was taking off SU. You should still save it though.

*Edit 2 if any of the links here don’t work, check the original post as I might’ve changed/updated them. If that still doesn’t work, send me an ask or DM I’ll give them to you.

#toh #the owl house #gravity falls #steven universe #su #amphibia #over the garden wall #otgw #others you should probably save >#rwby #she ra #miraculous ladybug #the legend of korra #< any show with a queer cast #(and/or has been banned in another country)#you should save it immediately #top posts

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itsheartbeat13 · 2 years

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Something I don’t think enough people recognize when it comes to making shows more diverse, there is so much going on behind the scene that you literally can’t “just add them.”

Alex Hirsch had to wait until the end of Gravity Falls to show that Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland were in love so that way the show didn’t get prematurely cancelled. And even still, that was censored in other countries.

________

The Owl House has a bisexual afro Latina protagonist that falls in love with a white lesbian. They kiss several times on screen and say “my awesome girlfriend.” It also has Disney’s first nonbinary character (Raine Whispers), their bisexual love interest (Eda Clawthorne), and an aro/ace woman (Lilith Clawthorne). However, because like five people said that TOH wasn’t the “Disney brand” the show is prematurely cancelled. So even with everything that TOH did, it only won battle but lost the war.

________

The art crew for Encanto had to fight to make Luisa buff. And when they were finally able to make her buff, Disney didn’t make as much Luisa merchandise because they thought little girls would want Mirabel or Isabela’s since they’re more “feminine.” (I think the same thing happened with Namaari when RATLD came out but I’m not sure. So don’t quote me on that.)

*Also, Luisa out preformed. So that’s a win.

________

Bubblegum and Marceline couldn’t kiss until the series finale of Adventure Time because it would’ve been cancelled. So throughout the entire series, the crew always just had to imply undertones about their past. Since HBO produced Obsidian, they were able to kiss on screen.

________

Korra and Asami’s relationship had to tempt down so that way Nick could continue airing the show and they weren’t allowed to kiss until the comics.

________

Turning Red got so much unwarranted criticism because not only did Mei’s mom say “pads” but she showed them on screen. (I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if that made you uncomfortable, that’s a sign that we need to do this more and not less.)

________

Some countries marked She Ra as 18+ because Catra and Adora kissed on screen. (Once again, I’m not sure if this completely true but Nate Stevenson had to fight to actually show them kissing on screen instead of a fade to white.)

________

Steven Universe is the gayest show I’ve ever seen in my life which was both good and bad. It was good for obvious reasons. Example being that it was the first show that introduced to me nonbinary people in a way that wasn’t “haha, look, she uses they/them pronouns. She’s so funny and quirky.”

And it’s bad because it put a target on it’s back. SU has been censored so much that it’s honestly a miracle that we got an ending. And in most of the countries that censored SU, they usually portray Ruby as a man. So I can’t imagine how bad the censors were when the wedding happened and Ruby wore a dress and Sapphire wore a suit.

________

Also, you have to remember the outdated idea that gay/trans topics are “too mature” for kids to handle (there’s an episode of Adam Ruins Everything that talks about this). So it’s easier for shows with an older audience (like Arcane) to have queer/trans rep.

Not to mention, if you ever go on Insider’s website to look at the queer/trans characters in cartoons [here], most of the characters are revealed to be queer only online and not in the actual show.

________

All of this BS because God forbid that kids find out that other people exist.

Representation is important but please, just be aware of the actually struggles that go on that you don’t see and be thankful that this is where we are now because even though it might seem like it at times remember that this is actual progress. We need to keep pushing studios to do more. I’m sure that there’s millions of untold stories that would be made if not for this prejudice.

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dark-and-kawaii · 2 months

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Chaos

Raphael & His Daughter

⋆˙⟡♡ Sunmary: Raphael’s daughter causes chaos through the house, much to Raphael’s dismay.

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: This is a little gift for a very lovely person, @octarinecat xoxo I hope this puts a smile on your face love and that you feel better ♡

⋆˙⟡♡ Dadphael

Prt 1. - Prt 2. - Impsy

His daughter, the heart of the house, darted through the grand halls with Impsy at her heels. As they played their little game, she collided with one of her father’s prized golden statues, a self portrait, no less.

The statue wobbled perilously before succumbing to gravity, setting off a catastrophic cascade of falling pedestals and statues, each one toppling into the next with the precision of a rehearsed performance…

Frozen in the midst of the chaos, his daughter could only muster a, "uh oh..."

Impsy quipped, "Nice knowing ya, kid. There's not enough of your mother in you to sweet talk your way out of this one..."

The ominous silence that followed was broken by the heavy footsteps of Raphael emerging from his boudoir. His eyes swept over the scene of destruction, the line of his fallen statues a testament to the chaos that had unfolded in his absence. His gaze landed on the two culprits.

With a silent accusation, she slowly extended a finger toward Impsy.

"I know you aren't pointing that little thing at me, girl."

Raphael's presence loomed over them, his composure a thin veneer over the rising tide of his displeasure. "Chaos in this house is not something I will abide, even if caused by you," his voice controlled but edged with anger.

Impsy, undeterred by the gravity of the situation, tried to interject. "Oh come now, Raph, can't you see? She did you a favor, the things were gaudy!"

Raphael's eyes narrowed, and without raising his voice, he uttered a single, resonant word, "Enough." With a snap of his fingers, Impsy vanished, banished from the scene.

Turning back to his daughter, Raphael's scowl deepened. "I've given you free will when running through this house, yet you still wish to act like a little tyrant? Your actions have consequences, and it is high time you learn what that means." The disappointment in his voice was perhaps more cutting than any punishment he could devise.

As the echoes of Raphael's condemnation faded, the silence held a weight of its own. His daughter, his little treasure, felt a pang of guilt heavier than any of the golden statues that lay in ruin around her. Her eyes, so often aglow with joy, now shimmered with the sheen of unshed tears.

"Father, I..." her voice was a mere whisper, a stark contrast to the earlier clatter of her play. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Raphael's features softened marginally as he took in the sight of his daughter's remorse. The anger that had been so near the surface was now slowly fading with her genuine regret. He knelt down to her level, the ruler of the house not too proud to meet his child eye to eye.

"Actions, my child, come with consequences," he started, his voice gentler now. "But the intention behind the action also matters. You did not mean to cause this damage, and that, at least, is a start."

He sighed, surveying the disarray before him. He often wonders if the pursuit of legacy through an heir is worth the sacrifice of peace and quiet. But then…

She wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight embrace, her small form seeking forgiveness in the only way she knew how.

Raphael felt the tension leave his body as he returned the embrace. This little child of his, though chaotic at times, was nothing but loyal to him.

And in that embrace, he found his answer.

His little treasure, his daughter… When the time came, she would help him rule well. Raphael realized that, despite the toppled statues and the occasional chaos, having an heir, having her as a loyal heir was indeed worth his time.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #dadphael #raphael x reader #raphael x tav

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bambi-slxt · 16 days

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🤍𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐈𝐭 𝐎𝐮𝐭 ~ 𝐩𝐭. 𝐨𝐧𝐞🤍

𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕨 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

word count: 1.1k

genres: established friendship

warnings: voluntary usage of sir, desperation, gentle!dom!matt, slight blasphemy, biting, slight choking.

notes from bambi: no use of y/n, poc friendly, first work, please enjoy!

pt. two here, pt. three here

“MATT CAN YOU COME HERE?”

“WHAT.”

“JUST GET IN HERE!”

“Do I have to?”

“YES UGH.”

Matt opened the door to his bedroom. “What do you want, kid.”

You lay curled up on his bed, wearing an oversized tee and faded blue underwear hidden underneath his plaid bed covers, staring intently at your phone screen. “I've been trying to figure this out for a solid twenty minutes and I need your help.”

“What's up?” He settled on the bed next to you, slinging an arm behind his head.

“So I’m reading this smut thing right.”

“...Sure, why not,” Matt said, tossing his hand up in exasperation at the apparent lack of anything sacred.

You grinned, enjoying his moment of discomfort. You normally went to him for sex advice, especially after a rather awkward encounter last summer left no room for privacy in your friendship, and it served to make the two of you closer in almost every way. Shaking the memory away, you dial back in. “I don't understand the position they're in right now.”

“Hate when that happens. Lemme see?”

You handed the phone over, picking at a nail in the absence of mental stimulation. Looking around his room, you sighed, feeling at home in the familiar space. His wall decor, all woodsy-themed, the handful of Liam Neeson photos still clinging to the wall, and a new addition from you and Chris’s combined efforts to make a Lego brown bear figure - it turned out pretty good, and Chris loved it so much he dedicated a whole Instagram post to ‘Scruffy the Bear’.

“What the fuck…” Matt muttered, and you turned back towards him.

“Mm?”

“This makes no sense. How are her ankles-”

“THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT. WHERE DID THEY COME FROM?”

“I'm invested now. Come here.” Matt leaned forward and patted the bed space in front of him, still staring, brow furrowed, at the offending device.

“Ouuu, what are you gonna do to me?” you snarked, languidly making your way across the checkered plaid.

“Shut up. Okay so she…no. They started out… facing each other? Why?”

“No idea,” you replied, sitting criss-cross in front of Matt, nudging his outstretched legs to the same position. He leaned forward, elbow on his knee, still reading. “ It says, ‘Her ankles crossed in an x behind him, and he…’ Okay, so like…”

Matt pulled his knees up, separating his legs. “Come here, I think she's sitting right in front of him, and her legs are wrapped around his, like, middle.”

“Sure,” you said, getting into position, “But where are his legs?”

“I'm assuming they're under hers? Beside hers??” Matt said, annoyed at the dismal lack of description. “But how would I know?”

He slid his legs underneath yours, his hands going behind his back to hold your calves. “I think she was closer…” He murmurs, his voice lowering the closer your bodies became. “Something like that.”

Your legs wrapped fully around Matt’s torso, knees pressed against his sides to keep you from falling back into the bed. You felt the heels of his feet press gently against the soft panty fabric covering your ass, and realized you were staring down at his stomach. You looked up to see his pale blue eyes fixated on you.

“Hi.” Breathy.

“Hi.” Breathless.

“I think I’m gonna-”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, moving his hands from your calves to wrap them around your back, acting as support for your disrupted center of gravity. The phone lay forgotten on the bed.

Noticing, you cleared your throat and picked it up dipping your head back towards his stomach to scroll to the next scene. “So once they're here…it seems like they just go into it?”

“No way,” Matt said, leaning forward and pressing his forehead gently against yours. “That's mad uncomfortable.” He smelled like mountain air and freshly-cut pinewood. Quit smelling him, you freakazoid.

“Well I’m sure that doesn't matter if you're horny.”

Matt tilted his head and nodded. “True. There's just. So many other positions. That aren't nearly as complicated.”

“I don't know…I kinda like this one,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

“Hm?”

“What?”

“What'd you say?” Matt asked, pulling away to look at you again. A smile threatened to creep onto his lips. Quit looking at his lips.

“Nothing, what was the next thing…” you said, turning your attention to the phone once more.

One of his hands left your back, the other tensing against your skin. Matt brought his free hand up toward you, a calloused knuckle underneath your chin and his thumb right below your bottom lip. You looked up slowly, guided by his gentle fingers. “What did you say, hun?”

That smile had fully formed now. You couldn't help but return one of your own. “I didn't say anything.” You put the phone down, letting your hands make contact with his chest. Moving up his body, towards his collarbones, snaking around to meet behind his neck, slipping through the soft curls at the base of his hairline. His thighs, pressed against the outside of your own, began to tremble ever so slightly.

“I heard something,” he insisted, making a gargantuan effort to drag his gaze upwards from your lips. Matt's thumb lifted from your chin to pull on your bottom lip, puffing it out and opening your mouth in the process. “Come on, I know you remember,” he breathed, his voice low and steady. Your heart thumped in your chest - how long had that been going on?

You looked up at him, your mouth slightly open in strict obedience to his fingertips, brows tilted upwards, assuming an expression of innocence. “Sorry, Matty…I forgot.”

It now stands to mention that his pelvis had been pressed against yours this entire time, and at this moment, a hardness seemed to grow in what little space remained between your sex and his. A shiver buzzed up your spine, and the hand on your back flexed in response, tightening its now-possessive grip on your body. Matt let out a shaky breath. “Forgetting…that’s not good, is it?”

“No sir.”

His hard-on seemed to leap to attention. Matt’s eyes stayed locked on yours, almost as if they were searching for something.

“What is it?” you asked softly.

He blinked a few times, shaking his head, gaze still fixed. Tearing his eyes away, Matt leaned toward your shoulder, burying his nose in the crook of your neck. His hand fell away from your chin to hang in the space between you.

“Gonna…Tryin’ not to…do somethin’... might regret.” Matt's words were poorly enunciated, almost as if he was preoccupied. His cock throbbed against your panties, blood pulsing hard enough to pound through the thickness of his sweatpants.

Looking down, you realized his neck lay open…exposed. As if in a trance, you dipped your head, lips making contact with his soft skin.

#sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fanfic #bambi slxt

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otterlis · 2 months

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♡ the proudest moment for me is telling others that you are my son ♡

♡ papamin!au my beloved

♡ genre: pure fluff

♡ lenght: ~0,6K

Kento didn't really plan to take a nap.

He was sitting in front of the TV, Yuuji curled up against his side as they watched Gravity Falls - well, Yuuji watched it. It was their afternoon tradition. They came back home, did the homework, watched some TV before they got hungry and then they cooked dinner together.

Today wasn’t much different, but after a tiring day at work Kento was absolutely exhausted. Too many pointless meetings and dumb arguments with his coworkers resulted in a throbbing headache and red, tired eyes. Relaxing against the soft pillows, Kento thought it wouldn’t hurt to close his eyes for a moment and rest. He wouldn’t fall asleep, right? Naps weren’t really his thing.

Then, as soon as the first episode of the show started, he just straight up passed out.

To him, it felt like a few seconds. A longer blink, if you will. That’s why he was so confused when he shifted and suddenly he couldn’t feel Yuuji’s tiny body pressed against his side. His eyes shot open and he sat straight up as the panic settled in.

‘Yuuji?’, he called out, looking around the room. It was already dark and he could barely make out anything. As he turned around on the couch, Kento noticed soft light pouring out through the kitchen door, accompanied by a few soft grunts of annoyance. He quickly made his way over, stopping in his tracks as soon as he saw the scene before him.

Yuuji was standing on top of the kitchen chair, Kento’s big apron hanging around his tiny body, the straps tangled around his legs. His face was concentrated, the tip of his tongue sticking out, as he tried hard to slice the cucumber that stubbornly rolled away from him with every attempt.

At least he’s using the child-friendly knife, Kento thought with relief. He quietly stepped inside of the kitchen, trying not to startle the boy.

‘What are you doing, Yuuji?’, he asked.

‘Oh, Nanamin!’, Yuuji exclaimed happily, almost falling off the chair as he tried to turn around with the apron tangled between his legs. Luckily, Kento had quick reflexes. This wasn’t the first time this happened, either. ‘I’m making us dinner!’

‘Hm?’, Kento hummed, looking away from the boy he held in his arms and back at the counter. Indeed, there were two plates prepared - there was a ham sandwich, a cheese stick and a few cherry tomatoes on both of them, but coincidentally the one on the right had also a few candies hidden behind the food.

‘I wanted some cucumber too, but it kept rolling away!’, Yuuji added, crossing his arms with frustration. Kento couldn’t help but smile, a warm, cozy feeling spreading across his chest.

‘You did great’, he praised the boy, setting him back up on the chair. He grabbed the rowdy cucumber and set it back on the cutting board, his other hand wrapping around Yuuji's wrist to guide his movements and cut up the vegetable. They boy cheered as they finally defeated the green stick of doom and placed a few slices on each of the plates.

‘Let’s go eat in the living room!’, Yuuji exclaimed, climbing down the chair and slipping out of the apron. He grabbed his plate and quickly run out of the kitchen, trying to cover up the sweets with his tiny hand. Kento chuckled as he picked up his own dinner, turning off the light and following the boy with a smile still etched on his face.

Sure. This one time Kento could pretend he didn’t see any candies on Yuuji’s plate.

It is not flesh and blood, but the heart which makes us fathers and sons — Johann Freidrich von Schiller

ellis jjk fanfic debut?????

inspired by a lovely prompt by @dahldahlbills ♡

#jjk #jjk fanfic #papamin #papamin au #nanami kento #itadori yuuji #jjk fluff #ellis writes #it's short and silly but I wanted to share it anyway 🥰

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tvgals · 10 months

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‘ TELL THEM THE TRUTH . ‘

— when they reveal their secret identity as spider-man, it’s too late.

MILES MORALES —

miles was looking all over new york for you. in the alleyways, behind buildings, even inside some of said buildings. but he just couldn’t find you. miles decided to search on foot. he knew it was risky, but so was the chances of losing you. he ignored the plea to take photos or go places with people, he needed to find you first. miles called your phone multiples times, looking for the last location it pinged — in between two shady buildings. miles follows the map and after twenty minutes of searching, miles found you. you were curled up in a ball, trying to run away from the cold that was engulfing your body that no one else seemed to feel. miles drops down next to you and pulls his mask up, bringing you to his chest. “y/n?” miles whispers, gently shaking your body. you let out a weak “hm?” in response. miles sighs and heaves you onto his back.

“stay awake, okay?” miles says, holding onto your hands for dear life. you open your eyes to only a squint, you look to see spiderman.. “miles?” you whisper, earning a faint “yeah?” you put two and two together, realizing that your boyfriend of six months was spider-man. that when he was flaky on dates or not responding to texts, he was saving brooklyn. that even in your last moments, miles was your hero.

HOBIE BROWN —

hobie let his tears fall in the corner silently as he watched you fight for your life in the blinding white hospital bed. this all happened because he wasn’t watching you — because he wasn’t paying attention. hobie sat next to you, biting his lip. “please wake up, love. i know i’ve been distant and we haven’t been talking, and that when we did talk, it was always an argument. i’m saving the world for you, babe. this is all for you. everything i do,” hobie takes a deep breath, making sure no one was in earshot for what he was going to tell you. “i’m spiderman. that’s why i’ve been gone so much, and why i haven’t been home with you. i was planning everything out for our one year — got ya’ pretty flowers ‘nd cute chocolates…” hobie sniffs, draping his lean frame onto your legs.

“i love you, y/n..”

PAVITR PRABHAKAR —

this has never happened on his watch. this WOULD never had happened if he was a good spider-man. if he was as good as everyone else in the spider society. a train had came down from one of mumbai villains, you not being able to move out of the way before gravity weighed down and you were crushed. pavitr searched everywhere for you, between the crowds of people and the rubble, pavitr couldn’t tell which from what. that was until he saw your hand — he knew it was yours from the red and pink bracelet with you twos initials on it — sticking from under the freight train. pavitr wanted to throw up, he wanted to sit there and sob and reign hell on the monster that did this to you.

“y/n? y/n please, please wake up.” pavitr says, holding your hand from under the rubble. he wasn’t strong enough to lift this train himself, so he took almost all of the citizens from mumbai and lifted the train, revealing your bloody and bruised body.

“oh my god.” pavitr whispers, picking you up and running you from the scene, laying you down on an open lot and taking his mask off, tears cascading down his face. “please wake up.” pavitr shakes you, his suit still on for display. “i was gonna tell you today, i really was..” pavitr whimpered, pulling you into his body.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

GWEN STACY —

gwen was breathing, she’s sure of it. she thinks so. she might be. but how can she breath when her girlfriend is laid out on the ground bleeding from a hole in her back. gwen covers her mouth and practically runs towards you, dropping to her knees when she’s next to you. she knew this was a bad idea. she knew that getting attached to you was a bad idea. she knew that as soon as you and her got together something bad was going to happen. gwen thought the two of you could outrun it. that the two of you would’ve been together forever.

“wake up, y/n wake up.” gwen cries, shaking you by your arm, “please?…” she whispers, your body cold and lifeless.

“i was gonna tell you i swear. if i told you sooner this would’ve never happened. i’m so so sorry..”

TAGLIST ; — @draculara-vonvamp @therealcees-blog @laylasbunbunny @kisminarii @d7n3 @deadgirlkisses @darkknightpeanutbagel @thecoloredpages @xricly

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rafesapologist · 3 months

Text

the set up — rafe cameron; part twenty four

summary: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, swearing, infidelity

author's note: condolences

The utterance of your name lingered in the air, a solitary word laden with questions, recognition, and a subtle plea. Rafe's voice, colored with concern, infused the moment with a certain gravity. Your name became a delicate thread weaving through the fabric of memories and emotions, hanging suspended in the night air. The ensuing silence enveloped both of you, fraught with the weight of unspoken truths and the echoes of a shared history.

As you met Rafe's gaze, a temporal suspension settled, casting the surrounding party chaos into the distance. For a fleeting moment, it seemed like only the two of you existed, standing amidst the tangled emotions of your past. The unspoken connection pulsated with quiet intensity, beckoning you to address the unresolved chapters lurking in the shadows.

Upon rising, the gravitational pull between you and Rafe intensified. In a wordless communion, you embraced him tightly. The warmth of your touch and the familiar comfort of each other's presence formed a sanctuary amid the emotional tempest.

This embrace held layers of unspoken emotions—apologies, regrets, and the echoes of a love weathered by storms. Rafe, initially surprised, gradually reciprocated, his arms encircling you with a blend of astonishment and a comforting familiarity.

In that moment, recent tribulations, pain, and uncertainties momentarily faded. It was a silent acknowledgment, an embrace laden with the potential to heal wounds etched deep. As you clung to each other, the party's clamor and the outside world blurred, leaving only the quiet vulnerability of two souls seeking solace in each other's arms.

Your tears fell freely onto Rafe's shoulders as you whispered, "I didn't think you'd come."

Rafe's grip tightened, emotions swirling within the embrace. "I heard your voice, and I couldn't stay away," he admitted softly.

As you pulled away, searching Rafe's eyes for revelations, his gaze, a mix of concern and something deeper, met yours with an intensity that hinted at internal tumult.

"I never thought I'd see you again," you confessed, your voice a mere whisper. "Especially after everything that happened."

Rafe's gaze softened, his gentle touch on your cheek offering reassurance. "Y/N, I… I never wanted to stay away. I just didn't know how to face you after everything went down."

You closed your eyes, head bowed, tears flowing as you choked out, "Rafe, I'm so sorry," your voice breaking with remorse.

He hushed you gently, fingers brushing through your hair. "Shh, it's okay. We can talk about it later. Right now, let's get you home, okay?" Supporting you, he helped you stand, offering a supportive arm around your shoulders, guiding you away from the chaotic scene.

The night air hung heavy with tension as Rafe guided you away from the party, each step echoing the unspoken weight of your shared history. The distance from the uproar provided a momentary reprieve, but the emotional turmoil lingered, etched into the lines of Rafe's furrowed brow.

The journey to the car was shrouded in silence, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the fading party behind you. Rafe opened the car door for you, a gesture both familiar and comforting, and you settled into the passenger seat with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty.

As the engine roared to life, the dim glow of the dashboard illuminated Rafe's profile. His jaw was set, and the shadows played on his face, revealing a complexity of emotions. The unspoken conversation between you two reverberated, leaving echoes of what had been and what could be.

The car glided through the night, the hum of the engine and the rhythmic streetlights creating a meditative backdrop to the thoughts swirling in your minds. The atmosphere inside the car was charged with words unspoken, an uncharted territory where the past and the present collided.

Rafe's occasional glances in your direction held a mix of concern and contemplation. You caught snippets of emotions in his eyes — a longing for understanding, a yearning for resolution. Yet, neither of you dared to breach the silence, as if speaking might shatter the fragile equilibrium.

As the familiar landscape of The Cut passed by, the weight of your past pressed against the confines of the car. It was a journey both physical and emotional, traversing the familiar roads while navigating through your feelings.

Finally, the car rolled to a stop in front of the Chateau, the quiet hum of the engine dissipating into the night. Rafe turned off the ignition but made no move to exit the car immediately. The air inside was charged, heavy with unspoken words and unresolved tensions.

After a moment of stillness, Rafe turned to you. His eyes bore into yours, a silent plea for understanding. "Y/N, I know there's a lot we need to talk about. But right now, let's focus on getting you inside. We can figure things out from there."

The sincerity in his voice echoed through the confined space of the car, leaving a trace of hope amidst the tangled emotions. With a nod, you both stepped out into the quiet night, facing the looming uncertainties that awaited within the walls of the Chateau.

As you attempted to exit the car, your legs wobbled beneath you, the lingering effects of the emotional storm still evident. Rafe, quick to react, caught you in his arms, preventing an unsteady descent. His grip was firm yet gentle, providing a steadying anchor in the midst of your emotional turbulence.

"I've got you," he whispered, his voice a soothing reassurance that cut through the lingering echoes of the night.

With his support, you regained your footing, finding an unexpected solace in the warmth of his embrace. The air around you held a delicate balance, an unspoken understanding between two souls navigating the aftermath of a turbulent reunion. As Rafe held you upright, it was a silent acknowledgment that some wounds ran deeper than words could reach.

Once you felt steady enough, Rafe guided you towards the entrance of the Chateau. Each step resonated with a quiet intensity, the weight of the night pressing upon you both. The door creaked open, welcoming you back into the familiar surroundings that held echoes of both joy and heartache.

The night air hung heavy around you and Rafe as you both stood outside the front door of the Chateau. The silence between you was pregnant with unspoken words and the weight of recent events. Rafe's gaze, filled with a mix of concern and observation, lingered on the state you were in. Your disheveled appearance and tear-streaked face revealed the emotional turmoil that had unfolded throughout the night.

In the dim light filtering from the Chateau's entrance, you looked up at Rafe, confusion etched across your features. The quiet exchange of glances held a familiarity, a shared history that spoke volumes even in the absence of words. It was a moment frozen in time, the echoes of past emotions resonating between you.

As Rafe continued to assess the impact of the night on you, his expression softened with a hint of compassion. The unspoken connection, fragile yet resilient, forged a silent understanding that transcended the tumultuous events that had transpired.

Breaking the silence, Rafe took a step closer, his presence offering a subtle reassurance. "Y/N," he began, his voice a gentle murmur, "Let's get you inside. We can talk, or not talk – whatever you need."

With that, he opened the door, ushering you into the comforting embrace of the Chateau. The threshold marked the transition from the external chaos to the internal sanctuary.

A brief pause hung in the air as Rafe surveyed the scene before him. Concern etched on his face, he finally broke the silence, his voice gentle as he inquired about JJ's whereabouts.

"Where's JJ?" he asked, his gaze still focused on you.

In a mumble, you responded, your words barely audible, conveying that JJ was still at the party. The weight of the night's events seemed to press down on you as Rafe absorbed the information, a subtle nod indicating his understanding.

In a moment of vulnerability, you spoke up, the words escaping your lips almost in a whisper. "Stay tonight," you uttered, the request carrying a mixture of longing and uncertainty.

Rafe's hesitation hung in the air, his internal debate visible in the furrow of his eyebrows. After a sigh, he voiced his concern, "I don't know how Sofia would feel about that."

A subtle frown appeared on your face as your gaze fell to the floor, disappointment evident upon hearing Sofia's name. You nodded quietly, acknowledging his concern. "I get it," you uttered, a hint of sadness in your voice that tugged at Rafe's heart.

You turned to walk down the hallway and into your room, but Rafe lightly grabbed your wrist, his voice carrying a hint of sincerity as he said, "Wait. I'll stay with you until JJ comes back."

Rafe's eyes locked onto yours as you turned to look at him, and for a moment, you were caught in the silent exchange between you two. His hand on your wrist conveyed a sense of reassurance, and you felt a mix of surprise and gratitude. A slight nod from you was all it took to convey your thanks, and you turned back towards your room, grateful for his agreement to stay until JJ returned.

As you guided Rafe into your room, you took in a deep breath, the familiarity of the space offering a small sense of comfort. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room, casting a warm ambiance that contrasted with the chaotic emotions swirling within you. You noticed Rafe's eyes tracing the details of the room, an observer in a space that was foreign to him, an intimate haven he had never ventured into before. The air held a delicate tension, a dance between shared history and the uncertainty of the present moment.

As you plopped down onto the bed, the mattress sinking beneath your weight, you felt Rafe's gaze linger on you. Lying back against the soft pillows, you turned your gaze upwards, fixing your eyes on the ceiling in silence. The room was filled with a quiet tension, the air heavy with unspoken words and the weight of shared memories.

You let the silence envelop you, allowing Rafe the space to make his observations as you drifted into a state between wakefulness and sleep. The soft hum of the lamp provided a soothing background noise, lulling you into a sense of calm amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within you. With each breath, you felt the weight of the day slowly begin to dissipate, the exhaustion of both body and mind pulling you closer to the edge of sleep.

All of a sudden, you felt the other side of the bed dip down, the mattress shifting as Rafe settled against the headboard. Startled, you opened your eyes quickly, meeting his gaze as he looked over at you with a solemn expression.

"What?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper, curious about the sudden change in his demeanor.

Rafe's voice was equally quiet as he spoke, his words carrying a weight of concern. "I just haven't seen you like this in a while," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with a mix of empathy and sadness.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of vulnerability as you turned to face him.

Rafe's gaze softened as he studied your features, his eyes tracing the lines of your face with a gentle intensity. "I mean…" he began, his voice trailing off slightly as he searched for the right words. "I mean the way your eyes flutter when you try to fight off sleep," he continued, his words slow and measured. "And the way your breathing steadies as you get tired."

As he spoke, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you, a sense of comfort in the familiarity of his observations. It was as if he was seeing parts of you that you hadn't even realized were visible to others, and in that moment, a sense of connection blossomed between you.

Your chuckle was soft, tinged with a hint of nostalgia as you shifted slightly to face him, propping yourself up a bit against the headboard. "I guess I was always the one to fall asleep first," you admitted with a half-hearted smile, a bittersweet realization settling over you.

Rafe's lips quirked into a faint smile as he met your gaze. "Yeah, you were," he agreed softly, the warmth of his voice wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

"I haven't slept the same since… since I had to start sleeping alone again," you confessed softly, your voice laced with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "I developed insomnia." The admission felt like a weight lifted off your chest, yet the vulnerability of it lingered in the air, leaving you feeling exposed in the presence of the one person who had always held a piece of your heart.

Rafe's expression softened into a tender concern as he absorbed your words, the weight of your confession palpable in the air between you. His frown deepened, lines of worry etching across his forehead as he searched for the right words to offer you solace in this moment of vulnerability.

For a brief moment, silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the soft hum of the lamp and the rhythmic sounds of your breathing. Rafe's gaze remained locked onto yours, his eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions—regret, empathy, and a longing for connection that mirrored your own.

Finally, he spoke, his voice a gentle reassurance amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling around you both. "Y/N, I… I'm sorry," he began, his voice tinged with a quiet sadness. "I didn't realize… I didn't know it was affecting you like this."

His words carried a weight of sincerity, a genuine acknowledgment of the pain and turmoil you had been silently grappling with. As he spoke, you felt a sense of validation wash over you, a reassurance that your struggles were seen and understood by the one person who had always held a special place in your heart.

"I wish I had known," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "I wish I could have been there for you, to help you through it."

His words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the complexities of your shared history and the missed opportunities for connection that had lingered between you. Yet, in that moment, there was a glimmer of hope—a recognition of the possibility for healing and reconciliation that lay ahead, if only you were willing to embrace it together.

You shook your head, a bitter smile on your lips, "No, Rafe, I deserve it. I messed everything up. I hurt you, I hurt us. I deserved to lose sleep over it."

Rafe's gaze softened, and he spoke gently, "Y/N, you didn't deserve it. We hurt each other, and it wasn't all on you. We both made mistakes."

You looked up at him, the weight of your confession heavy in the air. "Rafe," you began softly, "I lied to you. I betrayed your trust, all for the sake of relaying information to my friends. But all you ever wanted was love, and I failed you."

Rafe's expression fell, a subtle shock registering on his face at your confession. He looked down at his hands, fiddling with them nervously. After a moment of silence, he quietly asked, "Was any of it real?"

Your heart dropped at Rafe's question, feeling immense guilt for potentially distorting his perception of love. Sitting up straight, you looked at him directly, your voice sincere and stern as you assured him, "I did love you, Rafe. That part was real."

Rafe's eyebrows furrowed as though he was fighting back a flood of emotions. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes scanning every feature of your guilt-ridden face. Remaining silent for a few seconds, he seemed to be taking in the sight of you. Finally, he sighed before admitting, "I still love you."

Your heart raced as his words sank in, a tumult of emotions swirling within you. Shock gave way to disbelief, then to a glimmer of hope as you processed his confession. The sincerity in his eyes, the weight of his words, they all seemed to pierce through the haze of uncertainty that had clouded your thoughts.

In that moment, everything else faded into the background—the past grievances, the tangled emotions, the lingering doubts. There was only the raw, unfiltered connection between you and Rafe, a connection that transcended words and defied logic.

As you leaned in, your hands trembling slightly, you felt a surge of warmth coursing through you. His lips met yours in a tender embrace, a fusion of longing and vulnerability. It was a kiss filled with unspoken promises, a silent reassurance that perhaps, amidst the chaos and turmoil, there was still a chance for redemption.

In that fleeting moment of intimacy, the world seemed to stand still. It was just you and Rafe, two souls intertwined in a delicate dance of forgiveness and reconciliation. And as you pulled away, breathless and trembling, you knew that despite the challenges ahead, you were not alone.

Your words stumbled out in a rush of apology, but before you could finish your sentence, Rafe silenced you with another kiss. This time, it was different—filled with an intensity that ignited a fire within you. His lips molded against yours with a fervor that spoke volumes, erasing any lingering doubts or hesitations.

As you melted into the kiss, a surge of longing coursed through you, intertwining with the raw passion that flowed between you and Rafe. It was a moment of unbridled desire, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken yearning that had lingered between you for so long.

In that embrace, time seemed to stand still. There was only the electric pulse of desire, the intoxicating taste of forbidden passion. And as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to the undeniable pull of fate, knowing that whatever lay ahead, you were bound together by a love that defied all odds.

In the aftermath of the passionate exchange, you and Rafe gazed at each other, breathless and wide-eyed. The air around you crackled with a newfound intensity, a mix of desire and unspoken emotions. The room seemed to buzz with a magnetic energy, as if the universe itself acknowledged the significance of the moment.

Fireworks of emotions exploded within you, and a fluttering sensation, akin to a swarm of butterflies, danced in the pit of your stomach. The weight of the past, the pain, and the uncertainties momentarily lifted, replaced by a shared connection that defied reason.

As your eyes locked, the unspoken understanding lingered between you, creating a bridge that spanned the chasm of past mistakes and regrets. In that moment, it felt as though the universe had conspired to bring you and Rafe together, challenging the boundaries of time and circumstance. With a lingering gaze, you both acknowledged the questionable choices you had just made—a journey fraught with complexities, yet bound by a love that refused to be extinguished.

Rafe's admission hung in the air like a delicate promise, his words carrying the weight of emotions that had long been dormant. "Sparks," he whispered, his gaze never leaving yours.

Confusion danced in your eyes as you sought clarification. "Sparks?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, sparks. I haven't felt that in months."

The revelation lingered in the room, sparking a silent understanding between you. It was as if the universe had conspired to reunite two souls, reigniting a flame that had flickered but refused to be extinguished. The shared moment held a promise of something deeper, a connection that transcended time and circumstance.

"You haven't felt that in months?" you questioned, your voice a delicate whisper, almost afraid to disturb the newfound intimacy.

Rafe nodded, his gaze unwavering. "That feeling, you know? It's been missing."

The confession resonated between you, creating a magnetic pull that drew you closer. The air seemed charged with anticipation as you processed the revelation. The subtle rustling of the night outside played in harmony with the unspoken language shared in that quiet room.

As your eyes locked with Rafe's, a shared understanding blossomed. It was a recognition of a connection that defied the trials and tribulations you had faced. The room, once unfamiliar to Rafe, became a canvas where emotions painted strokes of vulnerability and hope.

A soft smile played on your lips as you whispered, "I haven't felt it either." The admission hung in the air, a fragile bridge connecting past regrets with the possibility of a shared future.

The weight of reality crashes down on you, and a frown replaces the fleeting warmth of the moment. A pang of guilt grips your chest as you pull away slightly, distancing yourself from Rafe. The sincerity in your eyes is overshadowed by the conflict playing out on your face.

"Rafe, this is wrong," you murmur, your voice tinged with regret. The acknowledgment hangs in the air, a sobering reminder of the boundaries that shouldn't be crossed.

Rafe's head shakes in stubborn denial, the desire to preserve the fleeting moment evident in the earnestness of his gaze. He utters a series of quiet, determined "no's," as if clinging to the present, reluctant to let go of the connection you both shared in that vulnerable moment.

"Rafe.. even though I don't enjoy seeing you two together, she's still my friend." You sigh, looking down at your hands in your lap.

"Is that why she talks about you when you're not around?" Rafe's admission about Sofia discussing you catches you by surprise. There's a complex mix of emotions swirling within you, and you find yourself grappling with conflicting thoughts.

"She talks about me?" you question, eyebrows furrowed as you seek clarification.

Rafe nods, his expression a blend of sincerity and something you can't quite decipher. The revelation hangs in the air, leaving you to contemplate the implications of Sofia's thoughts and conversations. It adds another layer of complexity to the already tangled web of emotions between you, Rafe, and Sofia.

"You've been on her mind, even when I'm around," Rafe confesses, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. The revelation hits you like a sudden storm, and you're left momentarily speechless. You glance at Rafe, searching his eyes for any signs of deception or ulterior motives. The weight of the information settles in, and you can't help but feel a mixture of hurt and confusion.

"What does she say?" you ask, your voice laced with a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

Rafe's words hang in the air, and you can feel the sting of Sofia's judgments cutting through the remnants of your confidence. "She thinks you'll always be a pogue, never leaving the cut or making anything of yourself," Rafe admits, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and concern.

You furrow your brows, a mix of hurt and defiance coloring your expression. "And do you believe that too?" you question, the tension thick in the air.

Rafe shakes his head, his expression softening with empathy. "No, Y/N. I don't see you that way at all," he assures you, his voice gentle yet resolute. "You've been dealt a bad hand in life, but that doesn't define who you are. You're so much more than anyone's narrow-minded judgment."

His words resonate deeply within you, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of doubt. You gaze at him, the sincerity in his eyes reflecting a profound understanding of your struggles and a genuine belief in your potential.

For a moment, the weight of Sofia's disparaging remarks fades into insignificance, replaced by the warmth of Rafe's unwavering support. It's a reminder that amidst the chaos and uncertainties of life, there are still those who see beyond the surface, who recognize the strength and resilience that lie within you.

With a grateful smile, you nod in acknowledgment, silently thanking Rafe for his belief in you. It's a small gesture, but in that moment, it carries the weight of a lifeline, anchoring you to a sense of self-worth and possibility.

Your smile falters slightly as you gaze into Rafe's eyes, a torrent of emotions swirling within you. In the depths of his gaze, you find a reflection of your own unspoken desires, a longing that echoes the sentiments you've tried so hard to bury.

Rafe notices the shift in your demeanor, his brow furrowing with concern as he searches your eyes for answers. "What's wrong?" he asks softly, his voice laced with genuine concern.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to voice the thoughts that have been weighing heavily on your heart. "I wish things could've worked out between us," you admit quietly, your voice tinged with a mix of regret and longing.

Sadness clouds Rafe's eyes as he listens to your words, a pang of regret echoing within him as memories of the two of you flood his mind. He nods slowly, his expression weighed down by the weight of unspoken emotions.

Before he could say anything, you chime in again, your voice tinged with regret and remorse. "I regret it all being based off of a lie," you confess, the words tumbling from your lips with a heavy sense of culpability.

Rafe replies gently, his voice carrying a mixture of sadness and sincerity. "If it's any consolation, my love for you was always real," he confesses, his words echoing with the weight of unspoken truths and lingering emotions.

Your heart clenches with a potent mixture of emotions—regret, sorrow, and a deep longing for what could have been. The weight of Rafe's words bears down on you, each syllable a poignant reminder of the love that was lost amidst the tangled web of deceit and betrayal.

Tears blur your vision as you confront the harsh reality of your actions, the repercussions of a misguided plan now laid bare before you. The ache in your chest intensifies as you grapple with the knowledge that you played a part in dismantling the bond you once shared with Rafe, a bond that now feels irreparably fractured.

In the midst of your turmoil, a profound sense of remorse washes over you, a heavy burden that settles deep within your soul. You yearn for a chance to turn back the hands of time, to rewrite the script of your past and undo the mistakes that led to this moment of heartache and loss.

Rafe's heart clenches at the sight of your tears, a pang of guilt coursing through him as he watches you succumb to the weight of your emotions. With a gentle plea in his voice, he reaches out to you, his fingertips lightly brushing against your cheek as he implores you not to cry.

"Please, don't cry," he murmurs softly, his tone laced with a mixture of remorse and genuine concern. He hates seeing you in pain, knowing that he played a part in causing it, and the sight of your tears tugs at his heartstrings with an almost unbearable intensity.

As he draws closer to you, his gaze softens with an unspoken apology, a silent promise to do whatever it takes to ease your suffering. In that fleeting moment, amidst the heartache and regrets of the past, there's a glimmer of hope—a chance for healing and redemption in the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity of his words.

Your voice trembles with emotion as you summon the strength to speak, each word weighed down by the heaviness of your heart. With tear-filled eyes and a heartbroken expression, you turn to face Rafe, his presence beside you a reminder of the tangled emotions swirling within you.

"I'm leaving the Cut," you whisper, your voice cracking with the weight of your decision. The words hang in the air, laden with a sense of finality and sorrow, echoing the tumultuous journey that has brought you to this moment.

As you speak, you feel the weight of your words settling in the space between you and Rafe, a palpable tension that speaks volumes of the pain and uncertainty that accompany your departure. It's a decision wrought with both longing and resignation, a bittersweet acknowledgment of the fractured pieces of your heart that remain tethered to this island and the people who inhabit it. Despite the ache in your chest and the tears streaming down your cheeks, there's a sense of resolve in your voice—a quiet determination to forge a new path, even as you leave behind the familiar comforts of the Cut.

Rafe's features freeze, his eyes widening in disbelief as your words sink in. The air between you crackles with tension, heavy with the weight of the revelation you've just delivered. His voice, barely above a whisper, trembles with a mixture of shock and desperation as he seeks clarification.

"What?" he breathes, the word hanging in the air like a fragile thread. His gaze remains fixed on you, searching your face for any sign that this might be a cruel joke or a fleeting impulse.

You meet his eyes with a mixture of sorrow and determination, your own resolve wavering in the face of his incredulity. The raw honesty in his expression mirrors the tumult of emotions swirling within you, each word laden with the weight of unspoken truths and unresolved desires.

"I'm leaving," you repeat, your voice steadier this time, though it trembles with the depth of your emotions. "I can't stay here anymore, Rafe. Not after everything that's happened." As the words hang in the air between you, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you, mingled with a sense of liberation at the prospect of forging a new path.

Rafe's head shakes in disbelief, his features contorted with a mixture of shock and disbelief. The words hang heavily in the air, his voice strained with emotion as he struggles to comprehend the gravity of your decision.

"No," he protests, his voice tinged with desperation. "You can't just leave, Y/N. Not like this."

His words reverberate in the room, a plea laced with urgency and a hint of desperation. The weight of his gaze bears down on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of wavering resolve.

But you stand firm, your own resolve bolstered by the weight of your decision. The air crackles with tension as the silence stretches between you, each heartbeat echoing the tumultuous emotions swirling within.

"I have to," you insist, your voice trembling with the weight of your conviction. "I can't stay here, not after everything that's happened."

Rafe's voice carries a pleading tone, each word laden with the weight of his emotions. His eyes search yours, beseeching you to reconsider, to give him a chance to make things right.

"Please, Y/N," he implores, his voice trembling with sincerity. "We can make this work. We can leave the past behind us, start over. Just give me a chance to make things right."

The vulnerability in his plea resonates with you, stirring a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within. Despite the hurt and the uncertainty that lingers between you, a part of you longs to believe in the possibility of redemption, of finding solace in each other's arms once more.

But beneath the surface of your yearning lies the weight of past betrayals and shattered trust, the scars of old wounds still raw and tender. The prospect of reconciliation is a daunting one, fraught with uncertainty and the fear of repeating past mistakes.

As you meet Rafe's gaze, you see the flicker of hope in his eyes, a glimmer of determination that mirrors your own inner turmoil. The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken truths and the echoes of a love that refuses to be extinguished.

In that moment, the choice hangs in the balance—a delicate dance between past regrets and the possibility of a future untainted by the shadows of yesterday. As you stand on the precipice of decision, you find yourself torn between the pull of familiarity and the allure of the unknown, uncertain of which path to choose.

Your words come out in a whisper, a plea tinged with desperation, as you struggle to navigate the tumult of emotions raging within you.

"Please, Rafe," you implore, your voice barely above a whisper. "Don't make this any harder than it already is."

You feel the weight of his gaze upon you, the intensity of his emotions palpable in the charged silence that hangs between you. With every fiber of your being, you yearn for clarity, for a respite from the storm of conflicting desires that rage within your heart.

But as you stand on the precipice of decision, the path ahead remains shrouded in uncertainty, the echoes of past regrets reverberating in the recesses of your mind. In the midst of the chaos, you long for a semblance of peace, a reprieve from the turmoil that threatens to consume you whole.

As Rafe's heartbroken gaze lingers upon you, you steel yourself against the swell of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. With a heavy heart and a soul weighed down by the burden of indecision, you take a tentative step forward, the path ahead obscured by the shadows of doubt and fear.

As you muster the courage to assert your decision, your voice carries a solemn resolve, tinged with the weight of the choices that lay before you.

"It's my decision, Rafe," you utter, your words laced with a quiet determination. "And I believe it's what's best for me."

Though his heart aches with the weight of your words, Rafe nods in reluctant acceptance, his gaze softened by the glimmer of unshed tears. In that fleeting moment, amidst the ache of separation and the tumult of conflicting emotions, there lies an unspoken understanding—a silent acknowledgment of the diverging paths that fate has laid before you. As tears escape his eyes, mingling with the unspoken anguish that hangs heavy in the air, you offer him a silent reassurance—a wordless promise that though your paths may diverge, the memories of your shared moments will forever linger in the recesses of your hearts.

As the weight of your impending departure hangs heavy in the air, you lean in and press your lips gently against Rafe's, a tender farewell imbued with the echoes of unspoken emotions. The softness of your touch speaks volumes, a silent testament to the depth of your shared connection and the unspoken longing that lingers in the spaces between.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you pull away slowly, your heart heavy with the weight of impending separation. "Let's just sleep together one last time," you whisper, your voice barely above a hushed murmur, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken regrets and the fleeting desire to cling to the familiarity of shared moments.

Rafe's gaze meets yours, his eyes reflecting the somber resignation that hangs heavy in the air. Without a word, he nods in silent agreement, a solemn acknowledgment of the fragile moments that linger in the spaces between farewell and the unknown.

As you both retreat to the solace of the bed, each moment carries the weight of unspoken goodbyes and the tender embrace of shared memories. In the quiet intimacy of the night, you find solace in the warmth of each other's presence, knowing that though the dawn may bring the promise of a new beginning.

As you nestled into Rafe's embrace, his arms enveloped you with a sense of urgency, as though he feared that letting go would mean losing you forever. With each beat of his heart, he held you closer, his touch a silent plea for time to stand still, for the fleeting moments to stretch into eternity.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, a tender caress that spoke volumes of the love and longing that coursed through his veins. As he watched you drift into sleep, he savored every fleeting second, committing the memory of your peaceful slumber to the depths of his soul.

In the dim glow of the room, he traced the contours of your face with trembling fingers, committing each detail to memory, unwilling to let go of the precious moments you shared. With each rise and fall of your chest, he felt the weight of impending separation bearing down on him, a silent reminder of the fragility of time and the transient nature of love.

Desperately clinging to wakefulness, he fought against the pull of exhaustion, determined to remain present in the final moments he had with you. With each passing second, he whispered silent promises into the night, a vow to cherish every memory, every touch, every stolen moment that fate had bestowed upon them.

As the boundaries between wakefulness and dreams blurred, Rafe held you tighter, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken goodbyes and the bittersweet ache of impending farewell. In the quiet solitude of the night, he found solace in the warmth of your presence, knowing that though the dawn would bring the promise of a new beginning, the echoes of your shared moments would forever linger in the recesses of his heart.

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months

Text

The Forgotten Nest - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw / Mitchell!OC (Cora)

Word Count: 3.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Past Unplanned Teenage Pregnancy; Angst; Absent Father Figures; The 'He Didn't Know About the Pregnancy' Trope; Repeating Trauma Cycles (Teen Pregnancy, Absent Parents, etc.); Crying; Carole Would Be Disappointed; Named Mitchell Daughter OC (Cora) and Named Mitchell-Bradshaw Son (Nickie)

Summary: Years ago, Rooster left Cora Mitchell's life when her dad pulled his papers. And, unknowingly, he left behind something other than just his toothbrush.

A.N. There are references to a previous unplanned teenage pregnancy (between two eighteen-year-olds) in this fic. There won't be any flashback scenes to the pregnancy, but the references are still there, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.

Master List

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

Rooster walked out of the admiral’s office with his new orders clutched carefully in his hand. He kept his head held high as he walked through the narrow halls of the USS Gerald R. Ford, heading for his quarters to pack his bag and prepare to fly back to US soil. To Top Gun. To Miramar.

The Californian town had a lot of memories—some of the best and some of the worst of his life. It was the town where he lost his dad before he truly understood the gravity of it all. It was also the town where he spent his later years of high school after his mom died. Where he learned how to drive, where he graduated high school, where he had all of his firsts with a girl—now woman—whom he hadn’t seen since he stormed out of her life.

Cora Mitchell. Maverick’s daughter.

As a result of some poor decisions at nineteen, Maverick ended up with daughter only a few months younger than Bradley. Cora’s mom wanted nothing to do with her and even though Maverick was far from fit to be a father, he would have preferred falling down 100 flights of stairs than letting his child go into foster care.

Carole quickly offered to help raise Cora and help Maverick out. And as his mom used to call them, they were built in best friends. And in the later years of high school, they were a lot more than that. Sneaking into each other’s beds and spending the nights together was fairly regular and easy for them to pull off with Maverick’s bedroom on another floor.

Of course, then Maverick pulled his papers and then he left that life, and Cora, behind completely.

Rooster entered his room and shut the door behind him, heading for his bunk. His roommate wasn’t in, still doing drills with the rest of their squad, leaving Rooster alone with his thoughts. He opened the folder again, reading over the orders once more before he found his gaze shifting. Pulling out his personal bag, Rooster reached into one of the smaller pockets and pulled out a small photo preserved in laminate.

It was from a photo booth at Bradley’s senior prom. Cora sat on his lap, beaming at the camera as Rooster pressed a kiss to her cheek.

It was stupid to still be this curious about what Cora was doing with her life. After all, he was the one who broke up with her and stormed out of her life, saying all kinds of nasty things that he regretted the second that he said them. And he had to admit that he had scrolled through social media, trying to find a glimpse into her life, to no significant results.

All he knew was that she took some time off after high school and eventually graduated from nursing school. He assumed that she was still working as a nurse. And he knew that she now lived in or around Miramar. He didn’t have the guts to try and contact her when he was in town for Top Gun the first time around.

But maybe this new, and probably highly dangerous, mission would finally give him the kick in the ass to try and make things right with Cora. Even if it was just a simple apology, like a small ‘sorry,’ it would take away some of the guilt that ate away at his stomach every single time that he remembered her crestfallen expression and calls for him to come back.

Tucking the photo back into his bag, Rooster stood up and started to pack, letting his mind wander to what Cora’s life looked like now.

~~~~~

“Nicholas Peter Mitchell!” Cora thundered, marching towards the stairs, still dressed in her scrubs from work. “Get your butt down here now!”

Cora was only partially pleased to hear her son scrambling around, undoubtedly in the middle of some kind of panic due to her tone. She tapped her foot, able to picture her son’s exact expression of fear. She would have preferred that he simply told her ahead of time because then they could deal with it together, but he forced her hand by hiding it.

The sound of a door opening and a soft pattern of footsteps caused Cora to pick her head up. Her eyes narrowed when her son, Nickie, poked his head out from behind the wall with a sheepish smile. She shook her head when his expression gave away the fact that he knew exactly why she was upset. And that only caused her migraine to intensify.

“Hey, Mom. Did you have a good shift?” Nickie asked kindly, stepping out from behind the wall. “And did I mention that I love you and that you look more beautiful than usual today?”

Nickie, or simply Nick to his friends, was far from her twin. His hair was a light brown and curled at the end. His eyes were big and light brown, like someone she knew well in the past. The shape of his head and his cheekbones that were starting to emerge from the baby fat came from her side of the family, but the slope of his nose reinforced his father’s influence on his features.

But his sheepish, mischievous smile was definitely a Mitchell trait. Undoubtedly.

“When were you going to tell me that you got a speeding ticket?” Cora questioned, eerily calm despite her earlier yelling. “Today? Tomorrow? Next week? Never?”

“Mom, I already paid it off—”

“—When were you going to tell me?” Cora demanded, not amused. When Nickie fumbled for a response, Cora straightened up. “You have had your license for a month and you’ve already gotten a speeding ticket, Nickie. That’s not funny. You clearly do not understand that your car and your license are privileges, not rights.”

“It was at that speed trap under that highway pass on the way to school,” Nickie tried to explain, but Cora was not going to give him an inch of the moral high ground.

“I do not care where you got the ticket. I care that you were reckless behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. I care that you got a speeding ticket and now it’s on your record. And I care that you hid this whole thing from me.” Cora sighed, placing her hands on her hips and shaking her head at her son. “How much was it, Nickie?”

“Thirty bucks,” Nickie replied quietly.

“Well, then I think that thirty is an appropriate number of days to not need your car. And a good number of days to think about the importance of following traffic laws,” Cora stated, folding her arms over her chest. “Where are your keys?”

Nickie sighed and walked downstairs to grab his keys from the countertop. He quickly returned to his mother’s side and placed them into her open hand without a fight. Cora closed her hand and shoved the keys into her pocket.

“I’m serious, Nickie,” she stated softly, causing the teenager to turn back to her with doe eyes. “I don’t want you getting hurt. And speeding around, especially on these roads where there’s a thousand pedestrians and everything—it’s not safe. For you or anyone else.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for having the maturity to realize that it was your bill to pay,” Cora offered her son in return, her tough exterior cracking just a bit. She rubbed her face tiredly. “And that’s probably what I get for letting your grandfather teach you how to drive.” Letting out a sigh, Cora dropped her hand from her face and turned back to Nickie. “How’s your homework coming?”

“Mostly done. I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

“Good.” Cora set her purse and the mail down on the countertop. “I’ll get started on dinner after I take a shower. Work on your homework and I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Cora walked into her bedroom and made a beeline for her on suite bathroom. Throwing her scrubs into her specified scrubs laundry bin, Cora quickly washed up from a long day at work. She changed into some comfortable clothes and a Navy sweatshirt before heading to the kitchen to start on dinner. The sun started to set in the distance as Cora waited for the chicken to cook.

The distinct sound of a Kawasaki caused her to look up from the oven, frowning with surprise. Walking over to the front windows, Cora was shocked to see her dad pulling into the driveway.

“What the—” Cora walked over and opened the front door, stepping out onto her front porch. “Dad? What are you doing here?”

“I thought that I would drop by since I was in town,” Maverick replied, setting up his kickstand and getting off his bike.

“Why are you in town? Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Cora added on, walking down to greet him. Maverick picked up the bag that he strapped to the back of his bike and pulled his daughter into a hug. But when she felt him wince, she instantly pulled back with a sharp, knowing look. “What happened now? What did you do this time?”

“Is that dinner that I smell?” Maverick asked, redirecting the conversation.

“You’re not getting out of this conversation,” Cora warned him, turning for her home and pulling the door open. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not twenty anymore? And could you at least wear a helmet once in a while?”

“Mom, who are you talking to?” Nickie yelled from upstairs.

“Your grandfather decided to drop by. Randomly,” Cora called back to her son.

A second later, there were a set of rapid footsteps echoing down the hall before Nickie appeared at the top of the stairs. His grin was immediately wide, showing the likeness between him and his grandfather, before Nickie hurried down the rest of the stairs to greet his grandfather.

“What are you doing in town?” Nickie asked, jogging over to Maverick.

“Well, I thought that it was a good idea to visit my favorite kid and grandkid once in a while,” Maverick joked, pulling Nickie into a hug despite his aching ribs

“Pops, I’m your only grandkid,” Nickie pointed out, frowning slightly.

“Still counts.” Maverick stared up at Nickie, jokingly inspecting him. “Did you get taller since the last time that I saw you? You look taller.”

“Maybe you’re just shrinking,” Nickie quipped, causing Maverick to turn to Cora.

“Don’t look at me,” Cora replied, gesturing to her own short stature. “Nickie over here got about three generations worth of height.”

Or, rather, he just had other genes to pull from when it came to height. And the men on the other side of Nickie’s family were all at least six feet tall, like Nickie was quickly shaping up to be. But not a single Mitchell in that household was going to bring that up.

Once dinner was finished cooking, the three Mitchells set the table and sat around, chatting and catching up since the last time that Maverick was in Miramar.

“I thought that you said that you wouldn’t be done with that project for a while,” Nickie stated, turning to his grandfather.

“Well, plans change,” Maverick replied noncommittally, glancing down at his plate.

“Because they were actually changed or because you felt the need to change them?” Cora deadpanned, cutting into her chicken.

“There might have been some . . . minor scheduling changes.”

“So, you’re not just visiting then,” Cora deduced, reaching for her drink. How she wished that it was wine instead of water.

“How long are you in Miramar for then?” Nickie asked excitedly, reminding Maverick painfully so of Bradley as a teenager.

“A few weeks. Somewhere around a month.”

“For what?”

“That’s classified,” Maverick replied, causing Nickie and Cora to roll their eyes in seemingly practiced sync. “I’d tell you, but—”

“—But then you’d have to kill us, yeah, we know, Gramps.”

“How’s school then? Still swimming and everything?” Maverick asked Nickie, changing the subject.

“It’s good. Swim doesn’t start for a few more weeks, but I’m trying to train before it. But I think I’m going to have to focus on running.”

“Why? Something wrong with the car?” Maverick questioned, looking concerned.

“No, just the driver,” Cora replied, setting down her utensils. “Nickie got a speeding ticket.”

“How bad?” Maverick asked, earning a sharp look from Cora. “I mean, that’s bad, Nickie. Don’t do it again. You have to get a little bit more driving experience before you start speeding.”

Cora sighed, holding her head in her hand for a moment as Nickie hid a smile behind his mouth. Maverick shot Nickie a joking smile before straightening up in his seat.

“But you’re doing good in school, Nickie?”

“Pretty well. Pre-calc is kicking my butt, but I think it’s supposed to get better.”

“Well, don’t be afraid to enjoy your teenage years a bit. Don’t go rushing off to try and grow up before your time,” Maverick replied, glancing over at his daughter for a moment. “Besides, I thought that you were going to try out for the surf team.”

“They want me to,” Nickie agreed, taking a bite of his dinner. “Mom’s a little scared to let me do it.”

“I just think that baseball is safer,” Cora replied softly, reaching for her drink. “Besides, between swim and water polo, you’re going to turn into a prune, Nickie. Not to mention that you go out sailing with Penny and Amelia all the time.”

“I just like the water, Mom,” Nickie stated, missing the pained expression on Cora’s face. “And besides, the baseball coach is an asshole.”

“Language,” Cora stressed, causing Maverick to chuckle.

~~~~~

After dinner, Nickie excused himself to finish up his homework. Cora and Maverick worked together to clean up after dinner and to set up the spare room for Maverick to sleep in while he was in town. But after the finished up the housekeeping, the father and daughter sat out on the back porch. Cora poured herself a glass of wine for the conversation and brought Maverick a beer.

“So, why are you really in town?” Cora asked, sitting down.

“Ice called me in,” Maverick stated, causing Cora to grow more serious instantly. “It’s a mission.”

“And not just any mission . . . is it?” Cora questioned, though she already knew the answer.

Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in for just your run of the mill mission. This was a serious mission, that was certain. And that instantly caused Cora’s blood pressure to spike in an instant. Ice wouldn’t have called Maverick in unless it was something bordering on a suicide mission.

“No, it’s not,” Maverick agreed, nodding solemnly.

He looked away from his daughter for a moment, a rock settling in his stomach. It had been sitting there since a familiar face flashed on the screen in that conference room. But he knew that he had to unload it sooner rather than later.

To say that Maverick’s perspective on Rooster was complicated did not quite do it justice.

On one hand, as Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather, there was nothing that Maverick wanted to do more than to grab Rooster by his ear and give him the lecture of the century about responsibility and putting his personal emotions to the side to be a man and a father. Hell, if it was any other boy who did that to Cora, Maverick would have strapped him to the outside of the Darkstar and done a couple laps around the Earth.

But, on the other, as Goose’s wingman and the man who tried to raise Rooster, Maverick wanted Rooster nowhere near Miramar or this mission. Hell, Maverick did what he could to make sure that Rooster stayed as far away from a cockpit as possible. And that side of Maverick just wanted Rooster back in his life, safe and far from danger.

But being Cora’s father and Nickie’s grandfather was always the side that won out in the end.

“There’s something else,” Maverick began, causing Cora’s eyebrows to furrow with concern. “He’s involved in the mission.” Cora noticeably tensed up as Maverick added, “He’s here.”

“In Miramar?” Cora asked quietly, earning a nod from her dad. Sighing, she held her head in her hands for a moment. “Fuck.”

“Did you tell Nickie—”

“—No,” Cora interjected, cutting Maverick off. “No, I didn’t.” Not . . . not the whole story." She stared out at the backyard, out at the little swing set that Maverick and Ice built for Nickie on a warm afternoon so many years ago. “He’s supposed to be out in the middle of the Atlantic right now.”

“And I’m supposed to be in the Mojave.”

Nickie sat with his back to the wall, silently listening in on his mom’s conversation with his grandfather. He knew that it was wrong and he knew that he was already on thin ice with the speeding ticket, but he knew that his mom and his grandfather went outside to talk where he couldn’t hear them. But his mom always seemed to forget that the bathroom window was right above the patio.

“Have you seen him yet?” Cora inquired quietly, causing Maverick to nod slowly.

“Yeah, I did. Briefly. At the Hard Deck.”

“Did he see you?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Maverick replied, shaking his head.

Cora let out another sigh and held her head in her hands again. Maverick quickly got up from his seat, setting aside his beer and pulling his daughter into a tight hug. Cora latched onto her dad, trying to calm herself down and not shed anymore tears over Bradley Bradshaw.

But she failed. Just like she did the last thousand times.

Nickie clenched his eyes shut and curled his hands into fists. His mom was the strongest person that he knew. Life threw a thousand things at her and she somehow always managed to keep herself and him on their feet. But the second that anyone brought up his dad, she always flipped a switch.

She always broke down or went into absolute survival mode until something else snapped her out of it.

Nickie stopped asking about his dad when he overheard his mom sobbing to Penny in the middle of the night about how his dad still wouldn’t return her calls. It happened years ago, nearly a decade now, but it was still fresh in his mind. Burned there for the rest of his life. And, well, if his dad couldn’t even give his mom three seconds of his life, then Nickie wouldn’t give him an ounce of energy either.

And, hell, Nickie was a mama’s boy. And anyone who made his mom cry was dead to him. Dad or not, the fucker who never showed up for him or his mom was dead to Nicholas Peter Mitchell.

Whoever the hell he was.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Epilogue

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