#nathan saw an opportunity and TOOK it

[gabugabs]

Let the record show it was Mr. Nathan Lee who intitiated the banter, therefore the defendant cannot be accused of being the sole instigator of any subsequent instances of such behavior.

ch6 of thicker than if /// @barbwritesstuff

[joejhang]

nathaniel wesninski vs neil abram josten

something that fascinates me abt the aftg books is the nathaniel vs neil dichotomy. so i'm gonna analyse and dissect it like a completely normal and fine person. spoilers ahead !!! continue at ur own risk

i feel like the fandom has the wrong idea abt nathaniel and neil; they aren't foils, they're mirrors. they're a lot more similar than i think the fandom likes to acknowledge. and i actually don't think neil himself has too much of a problem with that.

allow me to elaborate. neil isn't scared of nathaniel, and nor is he very sensitive about his father. he actually references his father sometimes as a defence mechanism ("you think i'm afraid of your knife? i'm the butcher's son.") his feelings towards his father are, i'd say, deep-rooted fear and resentment. this has to extend somewhat to nathaniel, given how deeply entwined nathaniel wesninski is with both the butcher (neil's childhood abuser, the one person he truly fears) and mary hatford (also one of neil's abusers imo but their relationship is a lot more complex), both of whom neil says he doesn't want to become like. but he also says it might be inevitable that he is a little bit like them anyway (he's right).

i think this is how the fandom differentiates between nathaniel and neil; nathaniel is cold-blooded, ruthless, analytical, a criminal mastermind. nathaniel wesninski sealed the deal for his own survival with ichirou moriyama. nathaniel wesninski endured the torturous conditions in the baltimore house. nathaniel wesninski watched the butcher of baltimore brutally murder a man in front of him at ten years old in castle evermore. nathaniel wesninski followed his mother on the run for eight years, twenty-two cities, sixteen countries and a dozen fake identities. nathaniel wesninski watched as his mother left bodies and sacrifices in their wake for their own survival. nathaniel wesninski orders hits on the people who have hurt the people he loves. more than once, others in the series note that neil will always be nathaniel wesninski at heart (ichirou, jean) and neil doesn't correct them.

neil josten, on the other hand, is scrappy and messy and impulsive. neil josten has sharply honed survival instincts that he throws away at the first chance of getting to live a real life. neil josten chose to stay at palmetto state university with the full knowledge that he would get himself and many others killed. neil josten clocked r*ko's shit on live tv and at the fall banquet. neil josten trusted a five foot nothing goalkeeper with his life for a year. neil josten saw the opportunity to do what he loved, even if it would kill him, and he took it. neil josten isn't afraid to run his mouth, be it to a teammate who overstepped or a reporter broadcasting on national tv. neil josten doesn't think about the past or the future but lives in the moment, all consequences be damned. neil josten gets to know and starts to care about the foxes even though he knows he shouldn't.

in short; nathaniel wesninski is ice all the way through, unapologetically the butcher and the bird's son, and neil josten is all fire, a young man and a runaway who chose living over survival and friends (family) over safety.

that's the dichotomy, but i actually think people don't realise that they're two sides of the same coin. i don't mean like "neil is nathaniel is nathan" i mean like neil chose to be neil josten, with full knowledge and agency, but that doesn't change that he was nathaniel first. in the fandom's declawing of neil, they forget that he's still the butcher's son, and he isn't afraid to show his teeth.

"neil josten" doesn't exist on his own. he is a product of neil's time with the foxes. neil says himself, at the beginning of the series, neil josten wasn't a person, just another identity that could be discarded at the drop of a hat. it was the foxes that made "neil josten" a real person. they pulled out from that facade the parts of neil that "no disguise could change". neil's character arc from the scared nobody at the beginning of tfc to the brave and happy young man at the end of tkm wouldn't have ever happened without the foxes' influence on his life. that pivotal narration change from neil to nathaniel in tkm is in a sense, neil shielding the foxes and the person he was around them from the cruel reality of his past. the identity of "nathaniel wesninski" is real and undeniable, already bloodstained from his brutal childhood, and untouched by the foxes, and so can't really be ruined by his father's hand (sweet mourning lamb, there is nothing you can do, it has already been done). everything that happened in baltimore, from the legal name change to neil and andrew's conversation in the car ("can i really be neil again?" "i told neil to stay. leave nathaniel buried in baltimore with his father.") is more of a decision to choose a new life than it is a new identity. "can i really be neil again?" is neil asking if he's really escaped his past and he can truly stay with the foxes and be who he was around them freely. and andrew's "leave nathaniel buried in baltimore with his father" is more of an assurance to let neil's bloody past go in favour for a new and better life.

note: "let go" does not mean forget or disregard or lose. it just means to accept it but move on. this is important i promise.

after that, neil is able to continue freely in his life. wait no he's not. ichirou comes to find him. right.

the neil and ichirou conversation is one of the most interesting in the series. it says a lot more about neil's character than people seem to notice. neil actively "switches" into the persona of nathaniel wesninski specifically for that conversation. something about how every word has to be true and it has to be the biggest lie he's ever told. neil's switch to nathaniel is a little jarring and a little uncanny. the way he speaks is pure business, coldly rational and disconcertingly subservient to ichirou (disconcerting because of how adamantly neil refused to submit to r*ko and testuji and even his father's people). but it's interesting because it's still neil josten speaking. the narration doesn't change, and the way neil talks is still very much himself, just honed and polished to suit the man ichirou thinks he's speaking to. ichirou wasn't looking for neil abram josten, starting striker for the psu foxes, he was looking for nathaniel wesninski, the only son of the butcher of baltimore. neil knew this, and knew he had a part to play and he plays it so easily it actually fucking works. he isn't even afraid of ichirou. everything he says and does in that scene is careful and thought-out and logic-based, but there is no fear. all of neil's fear in the aftg series quite literally is caused by his father, and can always be traced back to him. since nathan is dead at this point, neil isn't fearful of ichirou, just cautious.

the narration change in tsc is also notable. jean thinks of neil as nathaniel wesninski until the foxes beat the ravens and r*ko dies. this is significant because the idea of "nathaniel wesninski" is also deeply entwined with the perfect court. if neil had signed with the ravens he would've been nathaniel wesninski (03) not neil josten. but once r*ko is dead and once tetsuji steps down, the perfect court no longer exists, and neither does the phantom partner jean was clinging to all these years. there is no nathaniel wesninski (03), no forever partner for jean, even though he has nathaniel's auburn hair and ice-blue eyes and cruel smile, he doesn't have the mark of the perfect court anymore and r*ko and tetsuji aren't around to reinforce that delusion so for jean, now there is only neil josten.

still, he also says later on that neil is a wesninski at heart. neil doesn't really take this personally, from what we can tell. killing a rapist isn't something particular to neil or nathaniel, he would do it whether he was neil abram josten or nathaniel wesninski. but the method, the subtlety, writing the numbers on a napkin, handing them to his mobster uncle, that is such a nathaniel-characteristic thing to do that jean comments on it. neil might have problems with wearing his father's face and his father's smile, but he never denies the truth that he is a little like his father (referencing his hot temper), and he isn't hurt or offended by jean's comment.

this post is getting way too fucking long, even for me, so i won't go into the "abram" of it all, but just know there's something to be said about that, too. i just think the fandom takes the whole "leave nathaniel buried in baltimore" thing a little too literally. nathaniel isn't gone for good, he will always be a part of neil, but neil's accepted that and moved on. he's living his best life, doing what he loves with people he loves, and even tho he does act a little bit like a wesninski at times, he's come to terms with who he is and who he chose to be: neil abram josten.

[rebelliousmuse]

Crush - C.S.

Warning: use of y/n, unprotected p in v (don’t you dare).

---------------------------------------------------------------

A jaunty pop melody announced a new text, pulling your attention from the mirror. Nick's message read "Hey girl, we're heading to your place. Be ready."

Maybe they'd edit out the drooling part, you thought with a grimace, remembering you agreed to film the video for part of their new Friday vlog. You zipped up the back of your favourite overalls. A pale pink off-the-shoulder top peeked out from under.

A cloud of sweet, floral Carolina Herrera engulfed you as you spritzed yourself twice. A knot of nerves tightened in your stomach, but you forced a smile. Today was wisdom teeth removal day.

You grabbed your phone and purse, practically skipping down the hallway. The rumble of a familiar engine vibrated through the house. You peeked out the window and saw the triplets' minivan pull into the driveway.

Throwing the door open, you were met with Nick's warm smile in the back seat as you sat next to him. "Heeey," they said, you returned the greeting, Matt and Chris were already setting the camera to tell the viewers what was about to happen.

Chris launched into his commentary, voice a touch higher than usual. "Alright guys! Today's a big day for y/n. Wisdom teeth removal! Prepare yourselves for some hilarious anaesthesia antics!".

You couldn't help but smile. Though a tiny voice in your head piped up, 'Please don't let me confess my undying love for him after surgery.'

Nick reached over and squeezed your hand. "Don't worry, y/n. Mine went smoothly. Just be prepared to live off ice cream for a week straight." He winked.

---

The sterile scent of disinfectant hit you as you stepped out of the van, a contrast to the fresh scent of Matt's car freshener. You gripped the strap of your purse tighter, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

The Doctor’s waiting room was a mixture of sterile white and the nervous hum of anticipation. You twisted your rings around your finger. Matt scrolled through his phone with a frown etched on his brow. Meanwhile, Nick, continued his pep talk as you and Chris listened. "Honestly, it's like a nap with bonus drool! You'll be fine."

Dr. Gabe, a tall man with kind eyes, appeared at the doorway. "Ready, y/n?" he asked gently.

The sterile smell of disinfectant intensified as you were ushered into the operating room. The crinkle of paper scrubs and the rhythmic whir of equipment filled the air. The boys followed close behind, cameras rolling. After a few questions from the doctor and a series of pinpricks from the anaesthesia needle, the surgery began. You felt a wave of drowsiness wash over you, pulling you into the welcoming oblivion of unconsciousness.

---

The surgery was over. Dr. Gabe, his surgical mask now dangling around his neck, spoke to the boys. “She'll be groggy for a while. Keep an eye on her until the anaesthesia wears off.”

The triplets, ever the vloggers, saw this as their golden opportunity. Cameras rolled as they bombarded you with nonsensical questions like they did to Nick, hoping to capture some hilarious 'anaesthesia antics.'

After a few questions, Nick, got sidetracked by a text notification from their best friend, Nathan, his and Matt’s attention momentarily diverted. This left Chris standing beside you. He looked down at you, a hesitant smile playing on his lips.

“Hey,” he said softly, “Would you mind taking a picture with me? Just to remember this moment”. Heat flooded your cheeks. You lifted your head slightly, “Sure,” you slurred.

Chris scrambled to find a good angle. After he took the pic, you saw him looking at the picture on the camera screen, a genuine smile gracing his features.

"You have such a pretty smile," you mumbled, the words stretched and slow. Chris's smile widened, "Really? You like my smile?" You managed a sluggish nod, unable to tear your gaze away from him. "It reminds me of... of Prince Charming," you slurred, the words tumbling out in a nonsensical jumble.

Chris let out a soft laugh. He seemed to find your comment endearing. As you continued to babble, weaving a fantastical story about rescuing damsels in distress with a smile that could melt hearts, Nick and Matt materialized beside you.

"Woah, woah, woah," Nick said, his voice laced with amusement as he held up the camera and started recording again. "Looks like someone's got a crush on Prince Charming here!"

Matt joined in, "Did you hear that, guys? Looks like we have a Disney princess on our hands!"

The anaesthesia might have loosened your inhibitions, but the warmth blooming in your cheeks was all too real. Suddenly, the prospect of the entire internet seeing your delirious Disney-fuelled confessions was slightly terrifying, but also strangely exhilarating. As the boys continued to film, capturing your goofy grin and nonsensical ramblings, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Chris.

Suddenly, the doctor reappeared. He launched into a flurry of instructions directed at the boys as they absorbed his words. Chris, however, seemed oblivious. His gaze was locked on yours.

A small, curious smile played on your lips. You reached out a hand searching for his face. Your fingers brushed against the warmth of his cheek, then drifted up towards his eyes.

"Why are your eyes so blue?" you whispered. Chris's lips curved into a wider smile. His gaze dipped down to your hand, hovering just inches from his face. "I want them," you continued as you stretched your fingers further, almost comically trying to grasp the colour blue itself. "They are sooo pretty," you slurred.

A soft chuckle escaped Chris's lips. He leaned closer, "Well, you can't just take them off me, you'd hurt me," he whispered.

A frown creased your forehead for a fleeting moment. "Ow," you mumbled, a hint of sadness lacing your voice. "But can my kids have them?" you blurted out.

Chris's eyebrows shot up in surprise. A burst of laughter bubbled up from his chest, momentarily breaking his eye contact as he looked away. "I'll think about it," he managed, his voice laced with laughter. The corners of your mouth lifted in a triumphant grin. "Okay," you chirped.

"Alright, sleepyhead," Nick said, as him and Matt got back next to you. "The doc says it's time for your big test. We're going to throw some random words at you, and if you remember them, you get to leave."

Matt pulled out the camera, "Alright, guys," he announced, "Let's see if y/n can remember her way back to reality!"

The first few words were a blur. "Banana" Matt tried; his face tinged with disappointment when your brow furrowed in confusion after they asked for the ‘password’ a few minutes later. "Butterfly" Nick followed, receiving the same blank stare minutes later.

After a few more attempts, Nick gave you a new word ‘Zookeeper’. But since they started arguing on whose turn was to tell you a new word, you forgot it. And after what felt like an hour, just as you started to worry you might be stuck there forever, a spark ignited in your mind as they asked for the ‘password’ once again. "Zookeeper!" you exclaimed, the word bursting from your lips with surprising clarity.

A collective cheer swept through the room. The doctor, with a gentle pat on your arm, cleared you to leave.

Exhaustion pulled at your limbs as you shuffled towards the van, Chris offering you a steady arm for support.

Nick slid into the backseat, "So, y/n, we're heading back to our place. Remember, you're stuck with us until the pain decides to leave you alone."

You mumbled a weak agreement, sinking back into the soft seat. The familiar scent of Matt’s van filled your senses.

The engine rumbled to life as Matt took the wheel. Chris leaned towards you. "Hey," he said softly, "what kind of music are you in the mood for?"

A smile spread across your face. "Hmm," you mumbled, "Madison Beer" The name tumbled out.

The drive to their house was a blur of familiar streets, random comments from you, the boy’s laughter, and soft melodies. As they pulled into the driveway, Matt hopped out first. He opened your door, offering a hand to help you out.

"Easy there," he said kindly.

"Thanks, Matt," you mumbled. Nick followed close behind, camera clutched in one hand and his backpack slung over the other shoulder.

"Gotta pee!" Chris announced, dashing towards the bathroom with urgency. With a sigh of relief, you sank onto the familiar comfort of their couch.

"Anything you need?" Nick asked.

"Just some ice cream, maybe?" you mumbled as you took the gauze out of your mouth to throw in the bin.

Nick and Matt exchanged a glance, "Ice cream it is," Nick declared with a grin. "Matt, grocery run? We should probably stock up while we're out."

Matt readily agreed, grabbing his keys. "Sounds good. We'll grab some pain meds too."

These guys, they really were the best. As the front door closed with a soft thud, leaving you and Chris alone, a comfortable silence settled over the room. You stole a glance at Chris, who had just emerged from the bathroom with a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"So..." he began, "Do you remember anything you said earlier?"

Your breath caught in your throat. "Oh no," you thought, a wave of panic washing over you. "Please don't tell me I confessed my undying love, or I swear I'm crawling into the next hole I see." You forced a nonchalant shrug.

"No, why?" you managed to say with your voice sounding far too squeaky for your liking.

Chris's smile widened. "You said some really... interesting things," he teased.

"Really? Like what?" you squeaked.

He leaned back slightly. "Oh, you know, just that you like my smile," he said with a hint of cockiness in his voice. Relief flooded you so intense it felt like a physical wave. Thank goodness, it wasn't anything worse!

"Oh, well, the three of you have good smiles honestly," you replied, forcing a casual tone. Internally, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"And that you want your kids to have my eyes," he continued. He didn't break eye contact. Your breath hitched, and a blush crept up your neck, warming your cheeks to an embarrassing shade of crimson. Your heart kicked into overdrive, pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

"What?" you stammered.

"You also compared me to Prince Charming," he added, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips, high-pitched and breathy. "Oh well, Nick did say that anaesthesia does that kind of things," you said, desperately trying to deflect his attention and hoping he wouldn't press the issue any further.

"I guess, but damn, I thought you would ask me to marry you or something," Chris said jokingly.

"Oh, shut up, Chris," you replied, fidgeting with your rings nervously, avoiding his gaze as you felt his eyes fixed on you. His teasing was making you blush.

You sensed Chris moving closer. He started speaking in a high-pitched tone, mimicking your earlier words, "Oh Chris, your smile is so pretty!" He clasped his hands together dramatically, feigning a loving gaze.

"Stop," you pleaded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Oh my God, your eyes are so blue!" Chris continued.

"Stoppp!" you protested with embarrassment.

"Please have my children!" Chris exclaimed dramatically, moving even closer as he playfully mocked your anaesthesia-induced confessions.

Enough was enough. You didn't know what came over you, but suddenly you couldn't resist the urge any longer. You looked into Chris's eyes and kissed him passionately. His initial gasp of surprise was quickly replaced by reciprocation as he kissed you back, one hand finding its place behind your neck while the other held your waist tenderly.

As you pulled away, a rush of conflicting emotions swept through you. Your heart raced with both excitement and apprehension, and you couldn't help but cover your face with your hands. Regret gnawed at you as you worried about the implications of your impulsive action, fearing it might jeopardize your friendship with Chris.

Suddenly, you felt Chris's hands gently grasp yours, pulling them away from your face with a reassuring touch. His voice broke through your thoughts. "About damn time," he murmured. One of his hands tenderly lifted your chin, guiding your gaze back to his, as Chris's lips met yours once more. The air between you crackled with electricity as desire flared anew, quickly heating up the already charged atmosphere. He picked you up, starting to walk towards his room, closing the door behind him.

The clothes slipped away from your bodies, as Chris's hands fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans. His warm breath tickled your ear as he murmured endearments. His lips trailed down your neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin, eliciting a gasp from your lips. A soft moan escaped you as your fingers ran through his hair. As you two got rid of your panties and his boxers, he positioned himself at your entrance, which was already soaked from the kisses, touch and sweet words from Chris.

He started fucking you slowly, with deliberate movements, each thrust sending shivers dancing across your skin. As your hips met, your breath hitched in your throat, a gasp escaping your lips. His eyes, dark with desire, devoured yours, never leaving sight as his movements showed an increasing urgency. Your nails dug deep into his back, leaving red marks all over it. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he rasped, "You feel so good, babe." The sound of slapping skin sent a jolt through you, and a strangled moan tore from your lips. You met his lips with equal fervour, tasting the victory in his smirk before you broke away. "Fu-ck, Chris, j-just like that, my God-d," you pleaded, the words tumbling out in a breathless rush. A slow, knowing smile played on his lips as he leaned in, growling, "That's right, baby. I'm your God, worship me."

As Chris' movements became a blur of frantic energy, a warm knot formed in your stomach. Your breath hitched in your throat, and a whimper escaped your lips. Embraced by the rising heat, you maintained contact with Chris' gaze, “C-Chri-s, I need t-to” you breathed out. "I know, babe, do it, cum for me," he rasped. The knot in your stomach twisted tighter. Then, with a final surge of effort, a gasp escaping your lips, you came. A wave of warmth washed over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak as your juices dripped down Chris’ cock and your thighs. Chris followed mere moments later, a satisfied groan rumbling in his chest as he rode both of your highs.

The drowsiness pulled your eyelids down slowly. A faint smile played on your lips as Chris tucked a stray strand behind your ear. "Sleep, love," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You barely registered him getting up but felt the gentle tug of the covers before sleep fully claimed you.

Chris, already dressed, padded softly across the kitchen. Reaching for a glass, he heard the front door open and hushed voices. "Where's y/n?" Nick asked, followed by the clinking of bags. Chris smiled, "Sleeping, I offered my bed for her to rest," he answered. "Okay" Nick said, the murmur of conversation and the quiet clinking of groceries filling the air as the triplets started putting the purchases in the cupboards.

[thollandsgirl2013]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Parings → Nathan Drake x Reader

Warnings → Fluff, angst, betrayal, hurt/comfort, slow burn.

Summary → Amidst a dangerous treasure hunt, unspoken love is revealed when betrayal strikes, leading Nate to realize his true feelings for Y/N.

After the whole fiasco with Chloe Frazer, you, Nate, Sully, and Chloe went to the church with the pine tree drawn on metal outside.

"See, I told you. He's a genius," Sully said.

"Genius is a stretch. I'll see if we can get into the church," Chloe replied in a monotone voice, heading towards the nuns nearby.

Nate was staring at Chloe with a smirk on his face. You didn’t like the way he looked at her. You were in love with Nate, but he was oblivious to it.

Sully noticed Nate’s staring too. "Whoa, whoa. Don’t even think about it. She can’t be trusted."

"I think you should listen to Sully, Nate," you said.

"What? Look, she's coming back," Nate said, motioning to Chloe.

Chloe returned and announced that they could get into the church tomorrow night. All of you went to a house Chloe had set up for you. That night, you all got drunk—except for you, as you weren’t much of a drinker, making you the only sober one. Sully was asleep on the couch. You saw Nate and Chloe on the balcony. You didn’t want to snoop, but you couldn’t help but listen to their conversation. They were really close, and you didn’t like it. When Chloe finally left for her room, Nate noticed you standing there.

"Hey, you're still awake."

"Yeah, couldn't sleep." You joined him on the balcony. "So, you and Chloe, huh?"

"Well, not really. She doesn’t seem interested, but a bit of flirting doesn’t hurt anyone. Besides, who knows? Maybe she’ll like me later."

"Yeah, I guess. I should lie down, try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Nate." You kissed his cheek and went to bed with a heavy heart.

The next night, all of you went to the church. It was deserted. Nate found a back door leading to some kind of tunnel. You, Nate, and Chloe ventured inside and discovered a bar underground. Somehow, Braddock’s goons were there too. Chloe pulled Nate onto the dance floor, suggesting you all should blend in. You stood alone, feeling left out and questioning why you had even come along.

After a fight with the goons and nearly drowning in water, you stumbled upon some ruins. There were three large jars filled with salt that burst open upon touching. Amid the chaos, you and Nate found a map hidden within the salt. Despite everything, Nate was cheerful.

But then you heard the sound of a gun’s safety being switched off. When you two turned around, Chloe was standing there with a gun aimed at you.

Nate tried to calm her down. "You don’t have to do this. Just put the gun down."

"Give it to me, Nate," Chloe demanded.

"We can talk about this," Nate urged.

"You really don’t know what went down, do you?"

"Went down with what?" Nate asked, confused.

"Sam. Who do you think?" Chloe replied.

"No, no, no. Please, tell me what happened to Sam. Please," Nate begged.

Chloe hesitated, then lowered her gun. "You’re a good guy, Nate."

Seeing an opportunity, you tried to grab the gun, but Chloe was faster and shot you in the shoulder. You fell to the ground with a thud.

"Y/N!" Nate shouted.

Chloe took the chance to strike Nate with the butt of her gun, knocking him unconscious. With blurry vision, you watched Chloe escape with the map and the gold keys before you passed out from blood loss.

When you woke up, you were in the bed of the house you had been staying at. Your shoulder was patched up. As you tried to get up, you realized something heavy was on you. Nate was sleeping beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his grip strong even in sleep. He seemed distressed, so you gently woke him.

"Nate? Hey, Nate, bub, wake up."

When Nate opened his eyes and saw you're awake, relief washed over him. "Oh my God, Y/N, you're awake. I was so scared. You got shot! I'm so sorry for dragging you into this mess. I should never have forced you to come along. I'm so sorry," Nate rambled, his voice breaking with emotion.

"Hey, hey, Nate, it’s okay. I’m okay. You didn’t force me to do anything, okay?" You reassured him.

Nate carefully pulled you into a hug, as if afraid to hurt you further.

"I know this isn’t the right time, but when you got shot and weren’t waking up, I realized something. I can’t imagine my life without you. I’m in love with you, Y/N. And it’s totally okay if you don’t feel the same, but I had to say it."

You smiled softly, despite the pain. "Damn, I should have gotten shot sooner. Then we’d have been dating by now. I’m in love with you too."

"Don’t say that. And I’m sorry it took you getting shot for me to realize my feelings."

"Well, at least you did figure it out," you replied.

"Can I kiss you, please?" Nate asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"Yeah," you whispered back.

Nate kissed you gently, a slow and soft kiss full of love. He was careful not to hurt you. Afterward, you both lay down together, cuddling, as exhaustion took over.

As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but feel that despite all the chaos, you had finally found something real with Nate. And you knew that, no matter what, you would face whatever came next together.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

[sgt-scottymoreau]

Belgian Meeting - COT

Summary: After their visit to the MacTavish clan, Scotty ponder a lot about how her own family would take the news. Deep, she knows it won't be well; some might take it better than others. She wants to keep it secret a little longer, but it also eat her from the inside to not be up front with her own family.

Warning: None

Words: 4.3k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: I'm struggling a little to write recently. I'm working on something but I used to be able to finish some work in like a few days. It has been weeks now. So I'm just going in my back log and will post this for now <3

After the almost fiasco with Soap's family, Scotty thought for a little while about how she should bring this up to her family. She did say that they should wait, let one side let all of this sink in. The MacTavish clan took it rather well. Even Soap's mother didn't seem to mind when they finally explained everything. Which in itself still surprised all of them, but in a good way. Mother. 

That was the one person Scotty wasn't too sure would be very pleased with her new boyfriend. However if there was one person who could pull up with her shenanigans, it was Gabrielle. That might be a start. Her fingers trembled as her thumb hovered the call icon. Scotty swore that every time she spent a long time without talking to her sister it would always be to bring some very big news. Either unexpected visit with the whole task force, introducing Ghost as her boyfriend on the day she visits for New Year. And now this. The last time she spoke with Gabrielle was only three months ago, if she didn't consider the few messages here and there, which wasn't that long. Still, today's call felt as stressful as if she had to stop a missile or bomb. Which was ridiculous. 

The buzzing from her phone took her by surprise, she almost dropped it. It was Gabrielle calling. Scotty answered quickly. "Talk about coincidence I was going to call you!"

"Were you really? Or you just pretend so I don't patronize you." Gabrielle frowned on the other side. 

"I swear I was. I had something to tell you."

"So did I. Who first?"

Scotty saw it as an opportunity to stretch the confession and she was actually curious as to what her sister had to say. Last time she did so, it was seven years ago to announce the twins. "Go first, age before beauty." Even without the video call, Scotty could feel the glare through the phone. 

"Very funny. Ok, I need a weekend away from Nathan and the boys. They are driving me insane! Do you think I could come by?" 

The sergeant wasn't really expecting this. Since she started to work for the 141 and moved to England, no one had visited her. Not that she had time nor the place to receive anyone, it was always easier for her to be the one visiting. Although it was only Gabrielle that could be arranged. "Sure! Well if you visit, then maybe we can talk about what I wanted to tell you in person. You will see when you are home." 

*****

True to her words, Gabrielle arrived the next day. Camille was waiting at the Central station when she found the woman through the crowd. The two sisters hugged each other and Camille walked her back to the car; they still had a long way to home. But before getting in, the eldest had a burning question. "So what is it that you wanted to tell me but then choose not to till I was here?" She had a mischievous smile on her face. 

This was matched by Cam's own mischievousness. "Nothing big… I just have a second boyfriend." She thought about how to bring this up. All possible ways and to be blunt and direct was the only one that felt right to her.

Gabrielle looked at her shocked. She closed the trunk stronger than she expected. That was hell of a bomb to drop so casually. "This is a joke? What are you talking about, you can’t have two boyfriends?"

"Watch me Gab." The sergeant grabbed her phone, showed her lockscreen. It had a picture of her in the middle with both Ghost and Soap kissing each cheek. "See? This is Soap." 

Gabrielle went from shocked to unimpressed. A soft groan escaped her throat and it took her a lot to not facepalm. She might not have seen him since that one time they crashed at her place, but she sure recognized the man. "Really? From all the people, your other colleagues. Seriously Camille? You have a lot to explain…"

"Good thing we have another two hours drive to get to my place."

Up to date with her sister's life, Gabrielle still couldn't believe the situation. It still felt surreal. It didn't help that when they arrived home, Camille admitted that Ghost and Soap were on a mission, so it would only be the two of them for the weekend. Not that the eldest minded, if anything it was nice to have a girl weekend, they hadn't done that since Camille joined the army. Which was ages ago. Despite the initial shock, the rest of the days went rather calm and nice. The sergeant showed around, Gabrielle having to not worry about a thing, even though she did send a message once in while to see how the kids were doing. They stayed up late watching movies like they used to do as teens. Overall, they both enjoyed that time and Camille really needed this if she was ever to eventually tell her parents about Soap. Having Gabrielle still acting the same around her despite this was a huge relief and stability. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad with her parents? Although both women agreed that their mother might be hard to convince. The eldest proposed that Camille give a quick call to try to bring the news. Give a hint. The sergeant wasn't too sure if it would work. How to even hint something as big as this? 

In the end, as Camille wished good travel back home to Gabrielle, she made her promise to keep it secret till she was ready to say anything. 

*****

Eventually, Ghost and Soap had a two week leave after this mission, while Scotty only had a week remaining of hers. Who knew when would be the next time they could have time together. She told them about the surprise visit and how… maybe she might want to take a few days to go see her parents. With them. Both. Ghost already knew the old folks and had no objection. Soap was rather glad to meet his in-laws, hoping everything would go smoother than with his family when their secret will be out. At least this time, they didn't go with the mindset of keeping it under the radar. Scotty wanted to be up front from the start to avoid any drama. With her sister already aware it should be only easier. 

"We don't have to force anything if you don't want to." Soap said once they exited the airplane and walked the long way to the arrival.

"No, it's alright." She assured him. Scotty had her own plan to bring the news slowly to everyone. Step one; her dad. The two of them had always been so close that she trusted the man to have a rather open mind. He did accept Ghost rather easily. Of course, he would approve of Soap too. The thing was how much he would approve of her relationship. "I didn't introduce Ghost to my family till we had been dating for six months… I'm on five with you. I suppose it's in the timestamp." 

"That's one way of putting it." Ghost smiled under his mask. He had traded the full-on balaclava for a surgical mask, exposing more than he wished, but it felt like the most tactical move to do on a commercial plane. He was itching to cover himself as soon as they passed the customs. Something he did a little too fast when they were clear, making the two sergeants laugh heartily. Hearing both send a strange feeling down to his stomach. He couldn't exactly pinpoint what, but it was a feeling that had been hanging for a long time now, but only now was he a little more aware of it. 

When they passed the door, they got some glances from everyone. Thanks to Ghost. He was hard to miss; tall and the mask. Very subtle. But Scotty didn't mind it. Her dad waved at the group and she ran into his arms, very happy to see him. "How was the flight?" He quickly gave a handshake to both men. "You must be Soap?"

"Aye, nice to meet you, sir." He replied. 

"So he is the friend you told us would be coming to visit?" 

Scotty rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah… about that." 

Henri raised an eyebrow. His daughter was so easy to read, even if she tried hard to hide it. "What is it, sweetie?" 

"He is not exactly a friend… Well he is.. I mean he has been my best friend since I joined the task force and…"

"Camille. Get to the point." He knew she would go on and on for a while.

"He is my boyfriend." Her dad looked at her with big eyes, unsure if he heard that well. "Surprise, I have two boyfriends now." She chuckled nervously. The old man looked at the other two, thinking this was some sort of joke, but the unfazed expression from Ghost and the genuine smile from Soap made him reconsider that it might in fact be true. 

"Excuse us, one second boys." He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away. Last time Camille felt his grip like this was back in high school after she got in trouble. "What are you playing at, Camille? Two boyfriends, what the hell is that?" He switched back to French as soon as they were away.

"Is that so bad? What's wrong with that?" She genuinely wanted to know.

"You… you can't seriously love two persons at the same time? This is crazy." 

Her heart pinched, the smile on her face vanished and she started to regret her choice. Maybe she should have kept it secret… But from all the people, she really thought her dad would be someone to understand. If not, at least support her in her decisions, but the sound of his answer didn't really reflect either. It hurted more than she thought. She felt a pressure build up behind her eyes. "I was expecting this kind of reaction from mom. But not from you." 

The old man realized how harsh he might have sounded. He held her by the shoulders. "I'm sorry, tulip. I didn't mean it. It's just a bit of a shock. I thought you were happy with Ghost, weren't you?"

"I am! I'm still very happy with him. But… I realized that I also had deeper feelings for Soap and Ghost was fine with this and…" Emotions were forcing themselves all at the same time. Henri pulled her in a tight hug. 

"No worry, sweetie. I understand. It feels strange, but as long as you are happy." He looked at the two men. "At least we see the face of one of them. Glad to see you also like your men unmasked." He teased her. Camille let out a soft laugh. Alright maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Awkward yes, but not bad. Anyway, this was but a trial to when it will come to face her mother about this.

They joined up with the other two and Henri walked them back to the car. They still drove an hour before being home. Scotty quickly reassured them that everything was fine, her father had just been a little shocked by the news but he was eventually ok with this. Still a strange concept to him, but he could handle it. They shouldn't worry too much. The drive was spent mostly by Henri asking questions to Soap. The casual ones to figure out who the man was. Ghost found himself rather amused how Soap was being interrogated more than he had been when he met the man for the first time. Scotty begged her dad to stop, she wasn't a teenager anymore and knew who she was dating. But even then, her dad will still be a dad. Anyway compared to Ghost, Soap seemed more open to chat. 

A few kilometers before they arrived, the tension in the car was suffocating. Ghost and Soap could feel how the two Moreaus were apprehending the arrival at home. Henri grabbed his daughter's hand and gave her a reassuring smile. Scotty returned it; the situation felt very familiar. This was just like the time she was about to tell her mom she joined the army.

Scotty let her dad go in first. Soap came behind her. "Are you sure everything will be alright?" 

She took a deep breath. "Let's just say that if it doesn't, please don't intervene." 

Ghost and Soap looked at each other frowning. What did she mean? "Why are you so scared to tell her?" Ghost asked without mincing his words. 

Her gaze met his, with a tired look. "Because she has a strong opinion when it comes to some aspects of my life. I don't align with her values." That gave them more questions than answers. Ghost didn't remember any animosity between the two when he first met her family years ago. Then again back then they were invited in a rush and during holiday, maybe there was some sort of truce? Scotty was the first to cross the entrance and she could already tell that it would be a thought conversation. The atmosphere felt tense, or it was her. To her surprise Gabrielle was also there. Alone. No kids or husband. Her sister got up to greet her with a kiss and hug. Gabrielle noticed the two men behind her. "Are you really going to do it?" She whispered in Camille's ear. The youngest simply nodded. 

Her mother got up to welcome her, but stopped in her tracks when she saw Ghost coming from the corner followed by an unknown face. "Who's that?" She asked, looking at Soap. 

Camille glanced at her sister and dad who stood on the side, silently supporting her. "This is John." Soap had allowed her to introduce him by his real name to make things easier. "My… my second boyfriend." 

Her mother's eyes went from Camille to Soap a few times, passing by Ghost. She looked at the three of them as she was trying to figure out what was going on. "Your second what?"

"You heard me mom. Boyfriend." Camille repeated calmly. 

The old woman shook her head, giving the sign to the non French speakers an idea that this was not going well. "I know you can't have kids but that's not a reason to whore yourself like this." 

"Suzanne!" Her husband cried out, shocked by the boldness of the statement. 

"Good god mom!" Gabrielle said at the same time. "You can't stay stuff like that!" 

"This is not how it works! You have one partner in your life and that's it! I'm fine if she had chosen a woman but I'll not tolerate that." She waved at Camille and the two men. The Englishman and Scotsman had a hard time following, but by the reaction of the others, the mom might have said something bad. Soap started to wonder how his family had been so open with the idea, but hers wasn't too keen. Why? 

Camille stood there still processing how her mother just called her a whore for daring to love two persons and bring back a fact that had no place in this conversation. She knew exactly why, and she had enough. "You are saying this just because it would look bad to your fucking Sunday friends!" She lashed out, taking everyone by surprise. "You don't fucking care about me all your care is about how it will looks like that your daughter is not living be 'normal' convention! I'm sure you already tell all your friends that I'm not in the army because oh no what I shame! When it's totally normal to have women in the army nowadays!"

"Camille Moreau! You change that tone immediately!"

"No I won't! Ashamed that the pastor will judge you when he will ask how's the family? Not everyone lives by your church bullshit!" 

"Camille, that-" The father tried to stop this argument which would only heat more, but was interrupted by his wife blaming him for taking his daughter's side again. Which he tried to say he wasn't, this prompted Camille to say he was again siding with his wife. Henri was completely torn between the two, if he kept going it would only be like throwing oil on the fire. The two women started to argue again, so he waved at Gabrielle and the two men to leave the living room with him. It was for the best. The patriarch took them to the backyard. Even with the door closed, you could still hear the shouting. Ghost and Soap, but mostly the latter, looked rather uncomfortable. 

"Don't worry, boys. Just need to let the storm pass." Henri said with a defeated groan. 

"Does it happen often?" Soap inquired.

"No, but when it does it's best to not intervene. Last time I was almost asked for a divorce. They are both very stubborn." 

Ghost looked over his shoulder. Hearing all that shouting gave him bad memories of his own father yelling at him. When he couldn't defend himself and wish he could have. His fist clenched as he held himself from going back in; he knew she was capable of defending herself. He simply hated to see her in such a situation. The four of them tried to make small talk. Gabrielle explained that she knew this was bound to happen hence why she was here. Provide a way to escape if the animosity was too high. Henri on his side explained that as much as Camille had respect for authority or her parents, she sometimes wouldn't mince her actions when something annoyed her. Ghost and Soap agreed on that point. The father also admitted that this clash was mostly due to one woman not caring about what others think while the other was worrying a little too much. Whenever they had a heated argument this was often the core of it. "I can assure you boys, it has nothing to do with you. Nothing personal." He tried to reassure them. 

The door opened suddenly, making everyone jump. "Sure go ahead, always bring this back to Gabrielle! Sorry for being such a fucking disappointment!" Camille screamed back, slamming the door shut. A miracle the window didn’t shatter. She turned to see the four of them looking at her. "No offense Gab."

"None taken." Gabrielle cleared her throat. 

This was a disaster. Henri gestured silently to Gabrielle to come back inside, leaving some time alone to the trio. Also, it was probably best to check on the mother. Scotty turned to Soap and Ghost, holding back so many tears. She knew this would have been a possible outcome, that they might witness this. She promised herself to handle it maturely. She was prepared for this or so she thought. But at this point Scotty wasn't sure if she wanted to cry because her mother was against that relationship or because they saw her in such a state of anger. She wasn't really proud of it. "Sorry about that." She eventually let out. Not without falling in Ghost's arms for a hug. 

The Brit held her close to her. Soap watched feeling like this might have been his fault. From his point of view, everything had always been fine till he showed. As he voiced his concern about this, Scotty was quick to remind him that she was the one who wanted him to be part of her life and this would have happened no matter who she had brought home. They will work this out. Scotty didn't need her mother's blessing to live her life. She let go of Ghost to wrap her arms around Soap and pecked a kiss on his lips. He smiled, pressing his forehead on hers. Ghost watched them, as a strange sensation fluttered in his inside. Yet familiar. 

The door opened slowly, Gabrielle stood there with a shy smile. "Our mother said she will go to her brother's to cool off. You are all welcome to come back inside." 

The rest of the evening went as well as it always went at the Moreau's after a fight. The atmosphere was calm and convivial around the table, some jokes here and there, but it was also walking on eggshells to not bring back what happened and sour the moment. Eventually the night rolled in and everyone was rather exhausted. Gabrielle thought she was driving back home, but agreed to also stay over and leave in the morning/afternoon. Another issue that rose was the fact that Scotty's old bed could welcome two people but three? It would be cramped. The lieutenant told them to take the bed, he would be fine with the floor. They both complained that it wouldn’t be fair, at worst they could take turns. But he insisted. 

"Despite that… intense show, I do like your family." Soap whispered as she cuddled up. 

"Really wish it went differently, I know it's a bit on my fault, but it is what it is. The MacTavish are better with guests." 

He laughed. "We’re not so different, don’t be fooled. I had my fair share of heated conversations too, no worry sweetheart."

******

The next morning, Ghost was the first one to open his eyes. Not that he had slept much anyway, he was used to short nights although he had improved in the last years. Maybe having someone around you could ease the mind. He silently stretched, pushed himself up. His gaze landed on the other two still sleeping like logs. Scotty's hairs were all over Soap's face who didn't seem to mind, still softly snoring. As he watched this peaceful display, the strange fluttering came back as his eyes lingered a little too long on the Scotsman. He shook his head to chase this feeling. The lieutenant wasn't sure where this came from, but the fact that it has been a recurring thing in the last days, made him worry. Because in retrospect he clearly remembers when he experienced it before…

Scotty moved in her sleep, slowly waking up and this took him out of his thoughts. 

"Morning sunshine." She smiled with a still sleepy voice. Soap mumbled something and rolled on his side making the other two chuckled. The sergeant carefully got out of bed and grabbed some clothes here and there. "What about we let sleeping beauty sleep a little longer?"

He nodded silently. Without a noise, they left the room and headed downstairs. No one was up yet, which surprised Scotty. Her father was often an early bird. It was almost 10 in the morning. She checked the outside; his car was gone. He was probably out for some reason. Ghost brought her a note he found on the kitchen table. Which was from Henri saying that he was going to pick up Suzanne. In the meantime they were welcome to have breakfast on their own. 

The two operatives made their usual routine. Halfway through their silent breakfast, Gabrielle joined in and eventually Soap showed up. The four of them chatted casually. 

The main entrance creaked all the way through the kitchen. Scotty went silent while Gabrielle and Soap kept talking. She bit her inside cheek; she had been wrong and shouldn't have yelled at her mom, she should have handled this better. 

Suzanne entered the room and saw the four young ones sitting at the table, very casual and relaxed, till they saw her. She had been wrong for insulting her daughter without even trying to understand why she had a second partner. It just felt so wrong, so out of place. She grew up with the idea that love was only for one person and having feelings for someone else meant infidelity. Add to the fact that she indeed always worries about what the others say, this whole situation felt like a slap to the face. 

"I'm sorry." They both said at the same time. 

"Gabrielle, note this down on the calendar!" Henri said, eyes wide open. He even used English so Soap and Ghost sort of followed what was going on. This reaction from him dragged a chuckle from his daughters and a nudge from his wife. In his defense, never did he expect both of them to apologize so easily and at the same time. Suzanne, by respect, switched also to the language the men would understand.

"My little tulip, I'm sorry for the reaction I had yesterday. I realize that what I said was insulting and I shouldn't have used these words." She turned her head to look at Ghost and Soap. "I'm sorry if I offended you and if we had a bad start." 

"And I'm sorry for yelling at you, mom. And for swearing a little too much, I know you don't like it when I do it."

"You swear like a sailor since you were a kid. I blame this on your dad." The laugh that followed from everyone made the atmosphere much less tense. Under the table, Ghost's hands relaxed around Scotty's once everything defused to a calmer state. Soap gave her a reassuring smile from across his side. The parents took a seat at the table and Suzanne tried to start over with Soap. She did pass the same comment Henri did yesterday at the airport that at least they could see his face. This was an improved move in her daughter's choice for man. Scotty was glad that all seemed to go the right way now. Very rough start but a good ending. She wondered if her uncle also talked some sense to her mother, but better not to reignite the fire. At least now they could spend the next two days without any problem or so she hoped. 

[the-guilty-writer]

The Big Game and Revelations

Agent Rossi-Reid

Anthology Masterlist

David Rossi x daughter!reader,  Spencer Reid x reader, Criminal minds x BAU!reader

Summary: A fun night out with the team turns into a case, which turns into a disaster, which turns into Rossi-Reid’s own personal Hell.

A/N: Ah, yes… this one should be interesting and after the Super Bowl I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. I did try to get this out on the night of the Super Bowl but I fell asleep trying to finish it. I think it was worth the extra week it took to write it though.

CW: Rewrite of S2E14 and E15 so it’s heavy, very minor suicidal idealation.

---

You were actually excited about the Super Bowl this year for one reason and one reason only… 

The Chicago Bears were playing.

And you had a bet with Derek Morgan. The two of you had pooled a week's worth of paperwork each… and the loser had to do all of it.

Of course Derek had his love for Chicago and team spirit on his side.

But you had Peyton Manning.

And Spencer Reid.

Before placing the bet, you had pulled up all the statistics and you and your husband spent your day off deciding mathematically, who would be the most likely to win Super Bowl XLI. Ultimately, the formula that Spencer had come up with predicted the Colts would come out on top. The next day you didn't hesitate to challenge Morgan, and with his competitive spirit and hometown honor on the line, he couldn't resist the bet.

A hopeful blow to Morgan's ego wasn't the only reason you had wagered with him, though. With a whole week of paperwork off your plate, you'd be able to take the Friday after Valentine's day off so you and Spencer could take a mini vacation.

Spencer knew this was the plan the moment you'd given him the stack of papers filled with player stats. He was looking forward to it too.

The entire team, with the exception of Gideon, was at a local bar. You and Spencer were sitting at a table with a few people you'd met, Spencer impressing them with his extensive knowledge of Star Trek. Morgan was on the dance floor, Penelope was shamelessly watching him, JJ was kicking ass at darts. You saw Prentiss bringing drinks toward a table, noticing that Hotch had even brought Haley for the occasion. Quietly, you excused yourself to go say hi to them.

Besides, it was good for Spencer to be left without you sometimes. The last few cases you’d spent more time with other members of the team. Part of that had to do with the nature of the cases, but part of it also had to do with the fact that Gideon had asked you to watch over Emily. You weren’t sure if it was as Agent Gideon who trusted your evaluation of another agent's abilities, or Uncle Jason who knew that you really needed more friends; but it meant that you’d worked with her on a few consults and even been paired together on a case.

The shift in dynamics had forced a shift in Spencer. You could see that slowly, but surely, the confidence in him at work was growing, and you loved to see it. It was in the little ways he would tease Morgan back now, or that he didn’t hesitate to bother Prentiss while she was in the middle of paperwork. Even though the ordeal with Nathan Harris had been tragic, watching Spencer take a role of someone older and wiser, yet still compassionate and still himself, showed you how much he had grown since you’d first met him.

“How are they treating you at the BAU, Emily?” You heard Haley say as you approached them.

“She means, am I being nice to you?” Hotch said.

“Actually, everyone has been incredibly nice.” Emily smiled.

“I think it’d be nice if the boss covered all our drinks tonight,” you said as you walked up beside Emily.

Haley laughed and Hotch cracked a smile. “For everyone but you, (Y/N),” he said.

You faked offense, bringing a hand to your chest before turning to the Hotchner. You knew she always got a kick out of your theatrics. “Haley, do you see how he treats me?”

Haley laughed again. “You be nice to her,” she scolded Hotch playfully. He pouted and she laughed again. “I swear you two bicker like siblings.”

Hotch was about to say something when Garcia interrupted. “Look at him move.” The 'him' in question was Morgan, and the move in question was… questionable. He hadn’t even noticed the Bears had lost. “He’s like a cat.”

“More like a dog!” You and Emily said at the same time. Both of you grinned. Gideon had truly created a monster by making the two of you work together.

“He did not ask them to dance. They asked him,” Garcia defended.

“Okay,” Emily said. “Okay, he’s a cat.”

“An alley cat,” Haley commented. You nodded in agreement.

“Come on, Haley, let’s go show them how it’s done,” Hotch said as he grabbed her hand.

“I’m game if you are!” Haley looked at you as Hotch led her away. You faked a retch, making her giggle.

“That’s so sweet!” Emily sighed a bit.

“It gets a little gross after twelve years,” you told her. “Especially when I had to listen to him pin nonstop for the first two years they dated… "Oh I never thought she’d love me, why do I have to go on a case for twenty four hours away from my love, oh why, why, why’…” You tried your best to mock young Hotch in love.

“So you and Reid won’t be gross in another eight years?” Emily asked.

You watched Hotch spin Haley around on the dancefloor, both of them simply enjoying the presence of one another. The way they moved with one another had nothing to do with acts of lust (unlike Morgan who was… being Morgan), and everything to do with knowing a person inside and out. Hotch leaned in to whisper something to Haley and she threw her head back with laughter. Her laugh made him smile.

In all the years you had known Aaron Hotchner, no one could make him smile like Haley Brooks did.

“Maybe a little,” you said, just low enough that no one could hear you over the music.

“Hey,” JJ said as she approached from behind. You could already tell by the tone in her voice what was coming next.

“We have a case, don’t we?” you said.

JJ sighed. “Yes. We do.”

---

The case was odd, to say the least. With so much evidence, the team should have been able to put a profile together easily, but things just weren’t adding up. The religious obsession combined with the technology, the dominant and submissive team dynamics that weren’t constant, the obvious organization with, what seemed to you to be, a disorganized system.

You were out in the field with Morgan when you got the text that there was another crime scene. Morgan was on the phone with Garcia. “Yeah, baby girl. Tell him we’re on our way.” He whipped the car around. 

When you arrived on the scene, you got straight to work, but just like before, nothing seemed to make sense. The religious ramblings were beginning to irritate you. You understood them enough, but you didn’t have extensive knowledge on different analysis on the passages over the centuries or know the actual wording in Latin like Spencer did. But Spencer wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“Hotch,” you called to him. “Where’s Spence?”

“I sent him and JJ to go interview someone who might know something,” Hotch told you. The vagueness of it all told you that it was probably nothing- that it was a stretch.

But hours later, the distress on Hotch’s face and the strain to keep his voice steady made it obvious to you that it wasn’t a stretch. “Hankle?”

“Hotch, what is it?” Morgan’s voice was filled with concern as well.

But when Hotch answered, he wasn’t looking at Morgan, he wasn’t looking at Gideon or Emily; he was looking at you. “JJ and Reid went to interview him. He’s the unsub.”

---

The drive to the unsub’s house was a chaotic collage of names and tactical plans, of kevlar and lights and sirens. But you hardly remembered any of it. Your mind was on Spencer.

There was always a chance that he and JJ were fine; that they realized he was the unsub and parked out of cell service, waiting for the rest of you to arrive. But there was also a chance that they weren’t fine.

When you arrived on scene, your brain kicked into a different gear- it wasn’t wife gear, but it also wasn’t Agent Rossi gear. It was a strange inbetween that you had never felt before- a collected calm caused by panic. You went with Morgan and Prentiss to the barn, only to find yourself on the wrong side of JJ’s sidearm.

“JJ,” Morgan called. “It’s Morgan, Rossi, and Prentiss. Don’t shoot.” JJ lowered her gun and Morgan did the same, approaching her. “It’s okay. Are you hurt?”

You approached JJ alongside your other two team members. Your mind was cloudy and clear at the same time, your body shaky but still. In JJ’s frazzled state she continued to talk, ignoring Morgan’s question- the one you wanted to know the answer to- where was your husband?

When Prentiss got her to slow down, telling you that they had split up and Reid took the back, you didn’t hesitate to follow Morgan out into the cornfield. There were obvious signs that someone had been dragged and then the trail stopped. You could see it in your head like a nightmare- Spencer being drug through the vegetation and thrown into the back of a vehicle.

Somehow you ended up in the house with the rest of the team, hearing, but not truly listening to what they were saying. You stood at the window, the flashing blue and red lights highlighting the streaks in the grass. The whole world was slow and blurry, but not from tears; it was from shock. You recalled the first time you ever got shot- it wasn’t bad, but the sudden impact of the bullet and the instantaneous pain that followed made it feel as though your brain had disconnected from your body. But that sensation had ended in a few minutes… this one felt never ending. That was, until, Gideon asked the question.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Gone,” you answered before Morgan could.

Your head came back to you, the shakiness of your hands stopping, something building inside you like a dormant volcano- destined to explode, but no one would see the signs until it was too late. You looked at the team. They were lined up in a semicircle, each of them looking at you with a different adverse emotion- Morgan, resentment; Prentiss, pity; Hotch, anxiety; Gideon, disbelief; and JJ; guilt.

“Spencer’s gone.”

---

You didn’t sleep that night, but Morgan was adamant that you take breaks, drink water, and provided you with many gentle squeezes on the shoulder when he walked by. Prentiss sat down with you and together, the two of you began unpacking the journals before going through them. She was less about sympathetic looks and more about action. It was a good combination for you at the moment.

The rest of the team on the other hand was… Well, JJ avoided you at all costs. Gideon didn’t actively avoid you, but he couldn’t seem to look at you and when you spoke he always left the room. Hotch up and left- driving all the way back to DC to get Garcia and then all the way back. He could have had any other agent do it, but he did it himself. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t trust anyone at the moment, or if it was because he needed to run.

When Gideon got the call that Hotch and Garcia were on their way, all of you gathered in the room downstairs, surrounded by boxes and journals and things that would hopefully lead you to finding Doctor Reid. That’s how you had to think of him right now; not as Spencer, your husband, of Agent Reid, your colleague, but of Doctor Reid- just some smart guy with three PhDs. You knew that it was distancing yourself from the situation, but you couldn’t help it. If that’s what you had to do, you would do it.

“Welcome to our nightmare,” JJ said as Garica walked through the door.

It might just be a nightmare to you, but it’s worse than Hell for me. You swallowed your anger and told the voice at the back of your head to shut up. You had a job to do. She shouldn’t have let them split up.

Morgan and Garcia got started in the room full of computers, JJ went to take a break, and Gideon and Emily went to do some more searching upstairs. You sat down at the table and went through more of the journals. The entries weren’t long, but there were a lot of them.

Spencer would get through these in less than an hour.

“(Y/N),” the voice was strong, but more gentle than you were used to. “You should take a break.”

“I don’t need a break, Hotch,” you told him, looking up to meet his unblinking eyes for just a second.

He didn’t argue. He knew better. “I’ll be back to check in later.”

You went back to the journals.

---

Night had fallen and it felt like you were no closer to finding Doctor Reid than you had been when the sun rose. Most of the journals were religious ramblings, and Garcia was working as hard as she could on the computer system, but it still wasn’t matching up. The profile was still a mess. The whole thing was a mess.

“Rossi,” Morgan said. You didn’t respond. He plucked the journal out of your hand. 

“Morgan-”

“I’m going to check the perimeter.”

“Okay?”

“Come with me,” he said.

You hesitated. “Okay, lead the way.”

You followed Morgan out of the house and into the night. He walked ahead of you, flashlight in hand. You had to admit that the fresh air was relieving, helping clear any residual fog from your brain. You scanned the sides of the house, the broken boards that needed to be repaired, the roof that needed new shingles, and the gutter full of leaves. Your eyes trailed downward, landing on something strange, something new…

“Morgan!” You called. You jogged over to the cellar doors, drawing your sidearm on the way.

Morgan ran up next to you. “Hey guys, I think we’ve got something!”

Hotch and Prentiss were quick to join you. No words needed to be spoken- Hotch would go in first, then Morgan, and you and Prentiss would stand guard outside. The two men entered the cellar, glocks drawn. You listened carefully, but you couldn’t quite make out all their words.

When Hotch and Morgan came out of the cellar, both of them looked disturbed.

“Anything?” Emily asked.

“We found Hankle’s father,” Hotch said. “He’s dead.”

---

It felt like time was moving at the speed of light and standing still all at the same time. You continued to be able to catch small bits of information- JJ and Prentiss were going to look into Hankle’s Narcotics Anonymous meetings, Hankle’s father had been dead for six months, Garcia was making progress on the computer system- making the day fly by and slow down all at the same time. Around noon, your brain failed you and you fell asleep at the table for just a few hours. By the time you’d woken up, the rest of the team had figured out that Hankle was living as three different people and he had a serious drug problem.

You sat in the room full of screens with Garcia, feeling absolutely like the most useless agent in the world. Of course all the progress had been made while you were asleep. You were hardly paying attention to what Morgan and Garcia were talking about when you heard Penlope’s signature “Oh my god,” and looked over to the screens.

For the past twenty four hours all you’d wanted was to see Spencer- but not like this. Never like this.

You gathered around the computers with the rest of the team, trying to keep your face as still as possible. You wanted so badly to be able to focus on what was going on- analyze the situation, the words, the background, in an effort to find out where Spencer was, but your mind couldn’t work. Not while watching this.

Then the feed cut- all the screens going blank- and any hope of finding evidence to rescue your husband was gone. You heard Morgan punch the door as he stormed out of the room. The sound brought you back to reality, and you followed him out of the room.

“Morgan,” you called to him, but he kept walking, all the way out onto the front porch and into the front yard. “Morgan!”

You and Morgan were both known to have hot heads when things got personal and rageful, but your emotions came out in loud and painful words; Morgan’s came out in kicking down doors and breaking down walls. You just stood and watched as he took a piece of wood that was laying in the yard and smashed it down on the ground, causing it to splinter into pieces. His back heaved with heavy breathing, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d be scared of him. But you did know better.

“Derek,” it was more gentle this time, and the other agent turned around to look at you. The fury and frustration now replaced with an expression of agony.

He walked up to you quietly, shaking his head just a bit. “How are you doing this, Rossi?”

You closed your eyes tight, and tears pricked at the corners. The pure pain in Morgan’s voice finally causing all the pent up emotion inside to come out. “I’m not,” you admitted.

Spencer had been in plenty of dangerous situations before- stuck in an ER with a known killer, on a train with a psychotic man with a gun, in a mansion with a bomb- but this was the first time he was somewhere completely alone. You trusted that Hotch and Elle and Morgan would help protect him.

But no one could protect him now.

Every feeling you had shoved inside came out at once, and you collapsed in a fit of sobs. Morgan caught you before you could hit the ground, pulling you so tight to his chest you almost couldn’t breath. You cried so hard it hurt- it hurt your head and your eyes and your chest and your heart. Morgan was whispering something to you, but you couldn’t hear him over the explosion of emotion you were experiencing.

When the dam gates closed and the tears stopped flowing, you gently pushed Morgan away and wiped your eyes. “I need to help get him home.”

“Then let’s bring him home.”

---

It felt strange that the team was inhabiting the house of a killer- eating at his table, using his bathrooms, sleeping on his couch- but sometimes to get in the mind of an unsub, you had to do strange things. One of those strange things was using his appliances, including his coffee maker. The entire team was running off caffeine, and you were no exception. Just as you turned the corner towards the kitchen, you heard voices, and paused.

“It’s funny,” JJ said. You didn’t think anything about this was funny. “I keep thinking, the one thing we need to crack this case is uh… well, Reid.”

You wanted to scream.

“Yeah,” Morgan responded quietly.

“You think Reid and I should have stayed together at the barn, don’t you?”

Everything in you wanted to walk into the room and confront JJ… tell her upfront that they should have stayed together and it was her fault that Spencer was missing. But you couldn’t move.

“JJ, go get some rest.” You could hear Morgan’s exhaustion… but you could also hear his anger.

“I can tell that’s what you’re thinking so-”

“I just wanna get Reid home safe.”

“But if I had his back like I was supposed to, he’d be here now.” The defense in JJ’s voice made your blood boil.

“JJ, what do you want from me?”

“I just… I want someone to tell me the truth!”

“The truth is one of you is here and one of you isn’t,” Morgan said, frustration coming through. “You gotta figure the rest out for yourself.” He walked toward where you were standing, just out of sight. When he saw you, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you with sympathy before walking away.

You walked into the kitchen, avoiding looking at JJ as you made your way to the coffee pot. It was empty. You stared at the pot as it brewed, then poured it into your empty mug, not bothering to wait until it was cool before taking a sip. Maybe if you burned your tongue you could keep yourself from saying rageful words. You went to leave the kitchen when-

“(Y/N)?” JJ said.

You shut your eyes tight for a moment and turned, looking at the blonde, but not saying anything.

“What?” You shook your head slightly, keeping your face as straight as possible.

“I-” JJ swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

You looked down and took a deep breath. “Don’t apologize to me.” You looked JJ dead in the eye, holding yourself in as much control as possible. “Apologize to Spencer.”

Without another word, you turned and left; not feeling any better, but not feeling any worse.

---

You continued working with Prentiss. Hotch and Gideon were working together- an oddity. But so was a member of the team getting kidnapped. There was a sudden sound of shock coming from the room filled with computers. You and Prentiss both shot up from your seats and quickly filed into the room where the rest of the team was staring at the screens.

Spencer’s chair had fallen over, and he laid on the floor, unmoving. You’d seen enough people who were sleeping, dead, or dying to know the difference, even on a screen. And Spencer was dead.

You’d had this nightmare before, and in every single one you instantly crumbled to the ground in a fit of sobs, fighting whoever tried to touch you or calm you down. In your nightmares, the grief was so overwhelming it robbed your body of air until your head was so light that you couldn’t think- as if your body’s survival response to such overwhelming sadness was to make it so you couldn’t think long enough to be sad at all.

But now that it was real, all you could do was stand there- eyes glued to the screen, mouth slightly agape, blood draining from your face. The feeling was impossibly numb. Your mind not processing anything, refusing to believe what you were seeing. There was no survival response to overwhelming sadness; because all the will you had to survive was gone.

You remembered a quote from Dante’s Inferno- the one book Spencer had ever made you read to him since the original was in Italian- “L’inferno e freddo”: Hell is cold.

And you were frozen.

“Guys.” You heard the voice, but your brain was still in a state of limbo. Only the sudden appearance of a man on the screen, giving Spencer CPR, was enough to snap your body from the frost.

And then Spencer was alive.

Your vision blurred as your eyes watered, relief filling your body. But it was only temporary. The next thing you knew, Hankle was speaking.

“Choose one to die.”

“What?” You weren’t sure if Spencer was still in shock from dying and coming back to life, or if he was truly asking.

“Your team members,” Hankle said. “Choose one to die.”

“Kill me,” the words came out of Spencer's mouth like a plea.

Spencer, no. Your chest tightened, your breathing taught. Just say a name, Spencer. Please don’t give yourself up to him.

“You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied,” Spencer said. It didn’t matter thought- the math worked somehow.

“The team has seven members. Tell me who dies.”

Just say a name, Spencer… any name.

“No.”

Hankle pulled Reid’s revolver from his pocket, pointing it straight at your husband’s forehead. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.” Hankle pulled the trigger. The chamber was empty. A tear streamed down your cheek.

“Choose.”

“I won’t do it,” Spencer’s voice was barely audible over the video feed.

Another trigger pull, another empty chamber.

“Life is a choice.”

“No.”

Choose to live, Spence.

Trigger. Empty chamber.

“Choose.”

“I…” This time Spencer was slower to answer. He was going to choose. He had to choose. If he didn’t, he was dead. “I choose Aaron Hotchner.”

The entire room seemed to become still with shock for a moment, before everyone turned to look at Hotch- you included. The expression on his face wasn’t hurt, or at least you didn’t think so. Hotch had been so avoidant of you the past 48 hours that you weren’t sure that you could read him in this situation. He continued to watch the screen, but you continued to look at his expression.

“He's a classic narcissist,” Reid explained Hotch’s sin. “He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team.”

The wheels turned in your head, and as Hotch furrowed his brow, you could see that the wheels were turning in his head as well. He left the room quickly, and you followed after him. Hotch grabbed the Bible sitting on the table, flipping through it rapidly. You didn’t ask why.

The rest of the team filtered into the room and Hotch looked up. “I’m not a narcissist,” he said. It wasn’t defensive. You’d seen Hotch defensive before, and it was nothing like this.

“Come on,” Gideon started. “Look, you can't think anything from that. He’s not in his right mind-”

“No, stop, stop,” Hotch cut Gideon off and looked around at the rest of the team. “All right, everybody right now- what's my worst quality?”

Silence.

None of you wanted to answer that question. 

“Okay, I’ll start,” Hotch said. “I have no sense of humor.”

“You’re a bully,” JJ said quietly.

“I’m a bully,” Hotch agreed.

“You can be a drill sergeant sometimes,” Morgan said, avoiding eye contact.

“Right.”

“You don't trust women as much as men,” Prentiss said boldly. You wondered how long she’d been wanting to say that.

Then Hotch turned to you, meeting your gaze for the first time since Spencer had gone missing.

“You avoid difficult emotions,” you told him. “Instead of confronting them.”

“Okay, good.” Hotch kept his eyes on you for a moment before turning back to everyone else. “I’m all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team, because I don't, ever.” That was true. It always had been. “Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that, and he also quoted genesis, chapter 23, verse 4. Read it.”

JJ read the verse outloud. There was more discussion about narrowing down where Spencer might be. You hung onto every word, but you had just called Hotch out on something that you were doing yourself. You’d been burying yourself in work to avoid dealing with the terror and the pain that stirred inside you.

So instead of fighting to let you be in your normal point position when the team raided the cabin, you stayed at the back with JJ. Instead of avoiding her, you worked next to her in silence; both of you sharing a silent and desperate hope that Spencer was okay- that he was alive. When the team spread out, you stuck close to Prentiss, knowing you would need the support if something went awry and not being ashamed that, at the moment, you didn’t trust yourself to stay as steady as you needed to be.

And when Hotch helped Spencer to his feet, you let the tears stream down your cheeks. Holstering your gun, you let yourself go entirely- the relief crashing through your body. You breathed heavily, the cold air causing condensation to form. Morgan put a hand on your arm to keep you upright, and you let him.

You allowed the thoughts that had flooded your mind for the past two days to rise to the surface; that Morgan was probably the only other person in the world who shared what you were feeling right now- disappointment in Hotch for letting Reid and JJ go off in the middle of nowhere on their own, resentment about Gideon nearly getting Spencer killed, and rage at JJ because this never would have happened if one of you were with him instead.

“(Y/N),” Spencer’s voice as he said your name was barely a whisper, but to hear it in person made it real- it made everything real.

You pulled him into a hug, tears free flowing down your face. Spencer wrapped his arms around you tight, pulling you in so your bodies were as close as they could possibly be while standing upright. He buried his head in your shoulder. You leaned your face against the side of his head, pressing your cheek against his curls.

He let go of you slowly, as if you were the one thing keeping him tied to earth, your eyes locking only for a moment before Gideon walked over. You let Spencer lean on you, keeping his hurt foot off the ground.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Gideon said. “Come on.” Gideon went to support Spencer on the other side, helping him forward just a few steps before-

“Please.” Spencer looked at Gideon, but not at you. “Can I have a second alone?”

You looked at Spencer, but he didn’t look back at you, so instead you looked at your mentor. He gave Spencer a sympathetic look before locking eyes with you for just a second and walking away.

You let go of Spencer gently, your hands brushing before your bodies lost contact. He turned away without looking at you and began to limp towards Hankle’s body. You turned as well, looking over your shoulder as you walked. Prentiss was the one to help you this time- resting a gentle hand on your back to ground you.

You let her lead you back toward the SUVs, but you didn’t quite know where you were going; your mind was still full of Spencer. Then again, your mind was almost always full of Spencer- but not in this way. Never in this way.

“He’s going to be okay,” Emily said gently.

You let out a heavy breath. The clearing where the vehicles were parked was lit up by flashing colored lights. An ambulance had arrived, as had a coroner’s van. Officers were talking quietly, Hotch was pacing as he talked on the phone, JJ sat in the open trunk of an SUV staring out into the distance.

It was all over, but somehow you felt like things had only just began. 

“How do you know?” you asked her, breathing out as you did. It sounded helpless, but that was how you felt.

Emily put a hand on your shoulder, looking into your eyes. “Because,” she said- her voice was gentle, but her words were confident. “He has you.”

---

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[ravlykpavlyk]

Wait a minute and think about it

Kayleigh Day, before her death (which definitely wasn't a coincidence) made a deal with Hartfords. Maybe Kayleigh and Mary met at some banquet, where Kayleigh came as a friend of Tetsuji and Mary as a wife of Moriyamas' right hand.

Some banquets later Kayleigh managed to make a deal with Mary as a Hartford representative. Let's say it was a few days before the car accident.

So here is Mary, married to a monster and with a deal on her hands to protect Kevin from Moriyamas (and her husband as well).

Mary couldn't protect her own son, but had to save someone else's.

So she did.

Imagine she fucking stole Kevin from Tetsuji, took Abram and ran away to her brother to England. Because she promised.

Maybe, after a few days in her old house, she finally saw what it meant to be a mother. While Kayleigh knew she was going to die, but still made sure her son was safe, Mary had an opportunity to save Abram, but she didn't. She just watched Nathan hurt him all the time and did basically nothing.

Maybe it could be the moment she decided that she didn't want to be that person anymore – as she had two kids to protect.

And she did her best.

Many years later Mary learnt about Kevin's father, so Abram and Kevin went to the USA again.

Moriyamas were not a problem at all (Abram escaped before Nathan sold him, and Kevin had never been Moriyamas' to begin with). They are free, less traumatized and full of will to play Exy (ofc they play Exy even in England, where it's not popular).

That's how Abram Hartford and Kevin Day start playing with Foxes.

[kaytheday]

No One Left Behind… Ever (Part 2)

This is part 2 of my gender-bent Pony series thing. If you’re new to the story, I’ve linked part 1 here!

I figured I should give some context if I’m going to continue this little series. This story takes place 6 months before the events of part 1. Thanks for following!

6 Months Previous

It had been particularly cold after the dance. Patricia had been walking ahead of me and Cinda by a few yards. I could still see the red in her cheeks as we poked fun of her and Nathan. She’d been upset so she’d walked ahead. Suddenly a blue corvette pulled out of nowhere and four boys jumped out. Two of them grabbed Patricia and pulled her into the nearby alley. Cinda’s cold hand shocked my skin.

“Pony, we have to get out of here!” She sounded scared.

“What about Pat?”

“I don’t want any part of what those boys are doing to her.”

“We have to help her.”

“Us against four boys? You’re crazy. I’m getting out of here.” She took off running the other way. I felt bad. I had to help Patricia. I grabbed an empty beer bottle and smashed it against the ground. The sharp jagged edges might be enough for us to get out. I walked into the alley. I saw traces of blood and pieces of Patricia's dress discarded. I shuddered in horror and turned to the corner to see one of the boys on top of Pat. Her head lolled to the side, she’d gone unconscious. This would be harder than I thought.

“Hey!” I yelled, attempting to draw the attention off of her. “Get off of her!” three of the boys turned. The one on top of her started zipping up his pants.

“Oh, her little friend came to help?” I raised my bottle and repeated my statement from earlier.

“Get off of her!” They turned to me, I had just enough time to hit one with the bottle before two of them grabbed my arms and pinned me down. My breathing grew shaky, they were going to do the same thing to me as Pat.

“Wait a minute, I know this one. She’ll be tough. You like math don’t you? Maybe we should give her some tattoos?” He pulled out a switchblade and sunk to the floor. He pulled my dress up and started to carve the soft flesh of my stomach. Tears filled my eyes as a scream died in my throat. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Two of the guys pinned my arms, my legs were free. I jolted back and hit the ringleader with my elbow. He fell back letting out a string of curses. I took the opportunity and tried to pull myself up. The one on the floor punched me in the face three times. This dazed me a bit, making me go dizzy with pain. He lifted my dress and started carving again, every muscle in my body clenched into knotts and tears were leaking down the sides of my face and into my ears. White hot pain burned the skin of my abdomen.

“Scream then!” The boy started. “Just one little scream.” I managed to get an arm free only to be punched again. Pain exploded through my eye as it filled with blood.

“Is there one math problem you know the answer to?” They hit me across the face again. “Quit trying to get away!” He started carving again, then he stuck his hand up my skirt. My vocal cords were dominated by a blood curdling scream.

“There it is.” I could feel blood dripping down my face. “A few more numbers, alright fellas let's get out of here!” They got off of me, and in doing so, slammed my head against the sidewalk. That’s when I fizzled out of consciousness.

When I came to I could only see out of one eye, a figure was over me, shaking my shoulders lightly. I gasped, still not registering that it was only Two-Bit. He grabbed my hand.

“Oh Pony baby, it’s just me, Two-Bit.”

“Oh Keith, thank god.”

“Can I pick you up?” He didn’t wait for an answer and only hefted me up. I could feel blood everywhere. I closed my eyes and slumped against him in relief. He set me in his truck gently and closed the door. My good eye was still closed. Who knows how long I had been unconscious. “Pony, what happened?” I thought about telling him everything, but I couldn’t. I tiredly slumped against the chair as Two-Bit drove. We stopped at a gas station.

“I’ll make a call to your brothers and buy a few things.” He was gone for what seemed like an eternity. Soon the truck door opened and he sat down next to me. The truck started up and we drove off. Everything ached and I could barely think straight.

“Oh Pony, you’re shakin’.” Two-Bit grabbed my hand and held it tight, proceeding to nervously mumble about how we were going to fix it. My eyes stayed closed, but I could tell when we pulled into the driveway. Two-Bit picked me up, muttering something about how I needed to eat more. He laid me on the couch and grabbed a blanket. “Where is it?”

“They used a blade on my stomach. I think they tried to make math equations.” He lifted my dress to reveal the horrible wounds.

“Those sons of bitches are going to pay for this.” He said through gritted teeth. I sighed as he started to clean. His hands were gentle and soft, stark contrast to the hands that had held me down and thrown punches at me. “Darry will make sure they pay, what else did they do?”

“They punched me in the face a couple times. I think there might be some glass in my eye.”

“They slugged ya more than a couple times Pony. Alright I'm gonna pour some cleaner stuff on this.” As he did I hissed in pain, and clenched fistfuls of the blanket I was laying on. Then the door burst open. Out of my one good eye I saw Soda and Darry. Soda was holding a pair of my clothes and it looked like he’d been crying. Darry looked like he could kill someone, he also held a menacing bike chain.

“Oh Pony, what did they do to you?” Soda dropped the clothes and held my head in his hands. “Don’t worry honey, Two-Bit knows what he’s doing.”

“I was hoping so Soda, otherwise what would he have been doing?” I made an attempt at a joke, it only brought a tearful smile to Soda's face. Just looking at him hurt my eyes.

“Pony, we gotta get this bandage around you, can you stand?” I nodded slowly and stood. My good eye blurred and I started to sway. Darry dropped his chain and held me up as Two-Bit bandaged all the way around my torso. Darry laid me back down on the couch. He was always gentle with me. I think my five foot one hundred pound frame scared him. “Let’s start on that eye now.” Two-Bit picked up a flashlight and a pair of tweezers. “Here Sodapop, why don’t ya wipe the blood as it falls?”

“Sure.” Two-Bit set to work, talking as he did.

“I wish my Ma hadn’t had her stroke. She did stuff like this all the time. She was a helluva lot better at it than me.” I thought of Two-Bit’s mother, asleep in her room upstairs. She’d had a stroke three years ago. She’d forgotten a lot, she shook uncontrollably and didn’t know how to do things that she used to. Two-Bit told me that all his life she’d taken care of him, so now he had to take care of her. He said it restored balance. He was good at taking care of people. My head pounded as the last of the glass was ripped out. There was a small jolt of white hot pain that seemed to echo off the walls of my head, this made it impossible to sit still. Darry held my hand, weirdly out of place for him. Soda was muttering something, maybe a prayer.

Soon I was bandaged and laying on the couch. Two-Bit went into the kitchen for a beer before heading on the back porch. Soda followed, likely needing the story. My head pounded and the scent of blood stuck inside my nose, despite all the blood being cleaned up. Darry sat on the floor next to the couch, holding my hand.

“Do you have any names? Do you know who they were?”

“No, just some soc boys in lettermans. They were at the dance too, does it really matter?” He nodded, before picking up his chain and setting it on his lap.

“I’m going to kill them.” I didn’t have the energy to tell him not to, frankly I didn’t really care if he did. “Let’s get you home baby.” He said picking me up and bringing me to the truck. I let out a soft whimper at the pain but let him set me in the seat. Soon Soda was next to me and Darry was driving.

“It’ll be okay honey.” My head was on Soda’s shoulder and the next thing I knew, I was asleep.

[desislavat]

CHARACTER NAME: Desislava Saxe-Coburg CHARACTER AGE: 32 FACECLAIM: Margot Robbie NEIGHBORHOOD: Westport Village OCCUPATION: Owner of Blossom + Stem

BIO /triggers: drugs, car crash, infidelity/

Desislava had never been an ordinary girl. Born in London to Kaloyan Saxe-Coburg, the Knyaz of Turnovo, and Elizabeth Wilson, she was meant to be the successor to the Bulgarian throne. That was, of course, until her grandfather, Tsar Petar, abdicated in 1945 and Bulgaria became a republic. Despite this, Desislava and her sisters were raised with royal expectations, their lineage still holding sway over both Bulgaria and the British throne due to their shared ancestry with Queen Elizabeth II.

As Knyaginya of Turnovo, Desislava’s childhood was anything but carefree. Though born into privilege, she quickly learned that with royal blood came significant responsibility. She was taught Bulgarian and French before even stepping into elementary school, attending dancing lessons and immersing herself in both Bulgarian and world history. Her days were filled with rigid structure, and her evenings were often spent in study, all to prepare her for a future she was never sure she wanted. As she entered her teenage years, the weight of her royal duties began to feel more like a cage. Longing for a semblance of normality, Desislava finally raised her voice, asking for freedom. Her parents, Kaloyan and Elizabeth, were not pleased with her decision. They hoped it was just a passing phase, but they reluctantly allowed her some leeway, still holding on to the hope that she would one day embrace her royal role.

Once given the chance to lead a more ordinary life, Desislava took full advantage. She embraced the freedom of youth, frequenting parties and making new friends. However, the high society she mingled with wasn’t always the best influence. The Saxe-Coburg family’s wealth and status attracted many opportunists—people who sought to profit from proximity to royalty. Soon, Desislava’s life spiraled out of control. The parties grew wilder, alcohol and drugs became common fixtures, and soon her name was splashed across tabloids. Despite her parents' attempts to shield her from the media frenzy, things took a darker turn when Desislava and a friend were involved in a car accident. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured, but the incident was a wake-up call for her family. It was clear that a change had to be made.

In response to the growing concern, Desislava was sent to rehab in the UK, followed by a year in Bulgaria. During this time, she had the space to reflect on her life, her legacy, and what she truly wanted. It was here that Desislava came to terms with her royal heritage. While she had longed to escape it, she now saw its significance. It was a part of her identity that she couldn’t simply erase, but she also realized she needed to carve out her own path.

While studying law at Columbia University, Desislava met Alexander, a fellow Bulgarian student. Their bond grew quickly, and what started as a friendship soon blossomed into love. Alexander, passionate about his homeland, spoke of politics and the changes he hoped to bring to Bulgaria. He encouraged Desislava to consider returning there with him, seeing an opportunity for them both to make a meaningful impact. Torn between her responsibilities and her desires, Desislava agreed, eager to reconcile her royal lineage with a new life in Bulgaria.

However, their plans were soon derailed. Alexander’s political ambitions were overshadowed by a scandal involving an affair with a colleague. The story dominated headlines, and Desislava found herself thrust back into the limelight for all the wrong reasons. Trapped in a situation that felt more like a spectacle than a partnership, Desislava decided she couldn’t stay in Bulgaria any longer. In the dead of night, she made a hasty exit with Nathan, her bodyguard. Though they had never gotten along, she knew Nathan was reliable when it mattered, and their shared understanding of the situation made him the only person she could trust.

In an act of desperation, Desislava proposed a marriage of convenience. The union wasn’t born of love but necessity, as it would offer her protection from the media and some control over her narrative. Nathan, though initially resistant, agreed. They fled to his small hometown of Westport, Connecticut, far from the prying eyes of the press. There, in relative obscurity, Desislava began to breathe again. Though their marriage was born from mutual need rather than affection, it allowed her the space to step away from the chaos of her royal past and reflect on her next move.

In Westport, Desislava sought to create a new life for herself. Wanting to find a way to reconnect with her sense of purpose, she discovered a quaint florist shop for sale. It was called Blossom + Stem, and something about it spoke to her. Perhaps it was the calmness of the shop, surrounded by vibrant colors and the simplicity of flowers, or perhaps it was the opportunity to create something beautiful from the ground up. She bought the shop, and over time, Blossom + Stem became a place of peace and solace for Desislava.

Though her future remained uncertain, the life she was carving out in Westport gave her the space she needed to heal. It was here, in the small town away from the chaos of her royal past, that Desislava truly began to breathe again. She was no longer bound by the constraints of her title; she was simply a woman finding her way, and for the first time in years, she felt truly free.

[th3w00ds]

-To Let Go Ego Angst-

Pt. 2: You Share My Name, For Worse or For Better

Fandom(s): YouTuber Egos

Trigger Warnings (if any): None

Link to Pt. 1: I Can't Ignore the Bends and Cracks

----------------------------------------

The car was silent as he drove to the residence of his egos. Nate usually preferred to have music on, but today was different.

He needed to think about what he was going to do in a few minutes. He couldn’t believe that he was going to go through with it. With.. fully renouncing his egos.

His stomach felt like it was twisting in knots, the anxiety about it near overwhelming. It kept increasing as he got closer to the house.

But it was what Nate had to do.

As he pulled in to the driveway and parked, he took a deep breath in, then out. He wouldn’t tell them immediately, he’d probably save it for the last thing he said during the visit.

After Nate got out of the car, he walked up to the door of the house, ringing the doorbell and stepping back. The door opened a crack, before being practically thrown open by who was opening it.

Nate would recognize this ego anywhere. They were his first ego, after all. It was Natemare who opened the door, and he looked very happy.

“Nate, long time no see! Phantom told us you were coming!” Natemare said, then calling out to the others. “Nate’s here!!”

Nate walked into the house, and looked around. Still looked the same as the last time he was here. He saw Natelight on the couch, seeming more under the weather than Nate had ever seen him, especially since Natelight was so positive and energetic. He went over to him, concerned for the ego.

“Light? What’s going on? Are you okay?” He asked.

“Not really,” the angel confessed, shifting around, “There aren’t as many people who know I exist anymore, so I’m taking it easy for now. I’m sure I’ll get better soon though!”

“I hope so. Get better soon,” Nate said, getting up. Natelight smiled slightly, then turning to Natpai to talk to him as Nate walked away.

He walked with Natemare, who was leading him to Phantom. Minutes of walking and talking to various egos later, they finally got to him.

“Hey, Phantom,” Nate said, “How has everything here been? I know I haven’t been checking up on you guys all that often and I’m sorry,”

“It’s alright. You’ve been busy and nobody can blame you for that,” Phantom replied.

“Thanks for understanding. I actually have something that I need to tell all of you,” Nate said. Once again, he felt sick. He couldn’t do this to them, but… he needed to. He had to. It took a few minutes, but his egos all came to the living room, talking amongst themselves about what it could be that Nate wanted to say. Nate walked in front of the egos, taking a breath in before speaking.

“What I’m about to say will probably be a lot for you guys to take in. But, I felt like this was an important decision in both my career and as a person. I…” He paused momentarily, thinking about this. There would be no taking this back. “I… I've decided to step away from you guys, my egos. It's not because I don't care about you all, or because I don't appreciate the love and support you've given me and each other. You mean the world to me, and I'll never forget the incredible journey we've had together."

Nate paused, feeling a lump in his throat. He glanced at each of his egos, their expressions ranging from confusion, to concern, to anger.

"I've realized that my life has taken a different direction, and it's time for me to explore new opportunities and challenges. I can't be the creator you all deserve if I'm not fully committed, and it wouldn't be fair to keep you tethered to a fading existence."

Phantom's face darkened, hand clenching around his cane, and he took a step forward, his voice tinged with hurt. "Nathan. You can't just abandon us like this. You decide to let us all go, out of the blue? Just like that?”

Nate met Phantom's gaze with a heavy heart.

"I know, and I'm truly sorry. But it's for the best. You all have each other, and you can continue to support and uplift one another. And who knows, maybe someday, I'll come back to you guys and find a way to reconnect with you all. But that won’t be for a while.”

Natemare, Natelight, and the others exchanged worried glances, realizing the weight of Nate's decision. Nate sighed, the weight of his choice heavy on his shoulders.

"Please understand. It's just…” He paused for a second time. “See you later." Nate's voice quivered as he turned and walked toward the door, leaving his egos in a state of shock and sadness.

Nate reached the door, opening it with a shaking hand, and accidentally slamming it as he exited. He got into his car, shut the door, turned it on and drove away. He didn’t hear the single thud! of a body on the floor in the house, and he certainly didn’t hear the screaming of the egos, some pleading for him to come back. But Nate was already too far away to hear them.

[katetorias]

I hope this isn't a weird question, but I was wondering if you have any tips on actually figuring out if you are plural or not?

I've been going through a rough patch with trying to figure this out, but it's hard when your mind constantly makes you believe you're faking it <//3

I hope this isn't too much to ask!!

Hi!! Going to be honest with you it’s been a rough couple of years of trying to figure things out, we’ve read about literally everything it could’ve been and none of it was right or fit but I didn’t want to accept I could be plural because I thought I didn’t go through enough when I was a kid (even tho when I tell people what happened they acknowledge it as “enough”). Also heads up this’ll probably be long lol

For us it became too much to ignore when Jack had a pretty bad spell, and after that he would appear in very emotional moments, and I didn’t want to acknowledge he was someone separate from me, I thought he was just like. A version of me. It took until we were in a better place for it to kind of sink in, I was safe and happy and things felt like they made sense, and Jack kept appearing more.

For me what keeps me believing in us and our sense of security in this is small things that I personally notice are different between us. Our handwritings are different, Jack’s hands feel cold when he fronts/he gets colder, he sits and speaks differently, ??? types properly and doesn’t express emotions most of the time, Jocelyn kept twirling her hair as if it was long. Our younger parts struggle with my body hair and height. These things that even if they’re not noticeable to outsiders are very distinct for me. Even if they’re not distinct, I still notice it. Last night our handwriting was Completely different all of a sudden, and no matter how hard we tried it wasn’t the same. It turns out it was Nathan writing, but we didn’t notice it wasn’t me until we saw that.

I think there’s always going to be part of your brain that wants to make you believe it isn’t real because that’s it’s job, it’s supposed to be hidden. But if you're in a safe space to do so providing an opportunity and letting other people express themselves however they can (writing, outfits, thoughts even fronting completely) can make it seem more safe for them to do so. and at least in my case its made everyone interact and show themselves more

i hope this helps!! sorry if i rambled too much!!

[the-loveliest-lotus]

On a random Tuesday while fiddling with the radio, your OC accidentally makes contact with aliens. The signal is crystal clear. They can understand the aliens and vice versa. -What do they say? What would be something they want to communicate with another life form. -Are they likely to cut the signal and ignore the aliens? Would they tell anyone about what happened or take it to their grave? -Where do they think the aliens are calling from? If given the opportunity would they go visit the aliens? -What if the aliens are more malicious than expected? How would they go about protecting Earth? Or would they be on the aliens side?

You mean THIS George Takei gif???

It only took me 4 months to write this one. XD I haven't edited it, but, here it is in its hammy glory.

Dethklok should have been in the recording studio today, but of course, Nathan had come up with some excuse not to be in there. Rather than sit and be bewildered about the fact that the man got writer’s block more often than she could even fathom, she decided not to push the issue and mess around with a new toy that she had picked up at a vintage shop. It was an antique radio from the 1950s that matched her record player set up perfectly.

As Lucy was tuning through the FM channels, she had this strange urge to click over to AM. “Do AM stations even come in anymore?” she asked herself as she scrolled. There was a noise on the radio and she tuned it in.

“Is there anybody out there?” asked a deep voice.

“Just nod if you can hear me,” Lucy said with a little smirk.

“Is there anyone at home?” the voice answered.

The hairs on the back of Lucy’s neck stood on end, ‘No fucking way,’ she thought to herself. She swallowed and dared to press on, “Come on now, I hear you’re feeling down.”

“Well I can ease the pain and get you on your feet again,” the deep voice said back to her.

Lucy audibly gasped. She wasn’t imagining this. “What’s happening right now?”

The voice chuckled, “This is just an observer from the stars, watching over your planet and seeing what it will do next. We’ve been enjoying the music that you’ve been putting out over the last century, very catchy.”

Lucy’s voice cracked as she laughed, “You’re from…” She turned and scrambled across the room, shaking Dick awake from his post sex nap.

“What, babe, what’s-“

“Who’s there with you?” the voice asked from the radio.

“One of my partners, Dick this is uh…”

“An observer from the stars, nothing more.”

Dick fumbled to find his boxers and pulled them on, walking with Lucy back over to the coffee table where the radio was, “Observers, huh? From where?”

“From just outside the Orion nebula.”

Dick's eyebrows raised. This was legit. And yet, with all the hallucinogens that he had done over the years, it really didn't faze him.

Lucy sighed dreamily, that was one of her favorite star systems to look at, “I bet it’s beautiful being so close to those stars all the time.” She’d love to see them in person. It made her wonder if that was within the realm of Mephisto’s powers, considering the demon had his own pocket dimension.

“It is a lovely sight to wake up to every day. Though the sight would be lovelier were Earth not in the way of our view, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Lucy and Dick looked at one another, hair standing on end on both of their necks at how casually the observer had said that.

“Yeah, real uh, real inconvenient of Earth,” Dick said. He mouthed to Lucy, ‘Call Meph.’

Lucy nodded and traced the mark on her neck and on her hip, calling one of her other partners, a demon known to some as the Blues Devil but to those whom he was close with as Mephistopheles. Lucy saw him appear and waved at him frantically to keep quiet, beckoning him to listen.

“So what exactly is it you guys are observing about Earth?”

“We’ve been watching for some time attempting to determine whether or not to level your planet for blocking our view.”

Mephisto’s eyebrows rose and he looked at the two of them.

Lucy tried to keep her voice calm, “And what have you determined?”

“We’ve determined that-“

Mephisto interrupted, “He’s determined that he still owes me 20 souls and he’s trying to get out of that deal by blowing up a planet that he’s got no jurisdiction to blow up.”

The line was quiet for a moment. “What are you going to do with 20 observer souls, Meph?”

“A bet’s a bet and you lost, I want those souls and I want them by the weekend or I’m tacking on interest. You tried to get out of it by scaring my wife and her boyfriend?”

‘Wife?’ Dick mouthed at Lucy who just shook her head and mouthed back, ‘I’ll explain later.’

“Well, we uh…” There was a hushed, irritated voice on the other line, “Why didn’t you tell me that was his wife?!” The voice came back onto the line, “We wouldn’t want to underestimate you, and we’ll make it 25 souls by the weekend, you can count on it.”

“You’d better, don’t make me chase you through the galaxy for those souls, and do not underestimate how petty I can be over a debt.”

“Understood, observers out.”

The line cut out and Lucy and Dick glanced back at Mephisto, stunned. “What-“

He waved a hand, “I got bored and broke into Area 51 last weekend.”

Lucy and Dick still stared, “And you didn’t invite us?!”

He chuckled, “Now that I know my way around, next time I’ll bring the two of you.”

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon talking about whether or not it would be physiologically possible to trip on acid with an alien, and planning their chaotic break in adventure to Area 51.

[zeynepxturkmen]

👾​🇿​​🇪​​🇾​​🇳​​🇪​​🇵​ ​🇹​Ü​🇷​​🇰​​🇲​​🇪​​🇳​ & ​🇳​​🇦​​🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇳​ ​🇨​​🇷​​🇦​​🇳​​🇪​

In the nearly two years of the Silk Road being in Providence Peak, it has become one of Zeynep's favourite places to go to. Obviously, one of those reasons was the Turkish selection. Her parents never took the opportunity to teach her how to make the cuisine she grew up on. And now, as an adult who's tried to make the cuisine herself, her version were merely adequate. Nowhere near hitting the nostalgia spot the way she wished. Fortunately, the restaurant, along with the Sweet Spot, did exactly that. But there were other options both offered that she really loved. She could never get enough of Uzbek manti, the dumpling soup becoming her favourite meal during the winter months. With the kids at school and her having the day off from both stores, Zeyno took the opportunity to enjoy herself at the Silk Road. Eagerly waiting for the host to come back and lead her to her table. However, as she heard the entrance door open, her curiosity was piqued and she turned to look. Freezing once she saw Nathan for the first time since Rachel's party. "H-Hey," she stuttered. "I... I-I thought Carla typically grabbed your meals or... something."

🇨​​🇱​​🇴​​🇸​​🇪​​🇩​ ​🇸​​🇹​​🇦​​🇷​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​⦂ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇸​​🇮​​🇱​​🇰​ ​🇷​​🇴​​🇦​​🇩​​, ​​​🇩​​🇴​​🇼​​🇳​​🇹​​🇴​​🇼​​🇳​​​ ⨾ ​​🇳​​🇴​​🇻​​🇪​​🇲​​🇧​​🇪​​🇷​ 2️⃣7️⃣​🇹​​🇭​​​ || @nathanccrane

[honeyedheartss]

making a separate post for this so I don't hijack a gifmakers post but

@burntstay u literally have no idea! the entire past 2 years have been insane so excuse my rambling post

1. I went to see Dan last Nov and Dec. I went in November when he came to Seattle and got SO excited to finally meet him after so many years that I stumbled all over the MnG and couldn't respond to his very gentle kind compliments. So I flew to Oakland to see him again 😭 It hurt my bank account but not only did I meet him at that show during the MnG but he talked to me during the show too (interactive comedy show and I said I'd fuck the cinnamon toast crunch mascot bc he's a twink. he booed me but then brought it up several more time 💀)

November and December, respectively. (yeah he did accidentally get that fucking silver marker on my arm 💀)

2. Also in November, I had the opportunity to catch Kurtis Conners set he was doing in Seattle :] I went to the early show in the balcony bc it was what i could afford and Loved it sooo much but couldn't see bc I didn't have glasses at the time and at the end when I was calling my friend to talk about it, someone offered me 3rd row tickets because they had to cancel for a family emergency. I took them, could see the set, and it was just as funny the 2nd time!

the next day I'd taken my friend to Pikes Place (popular indoor/outdoor multi-vendor permanent market in Seattle) and ran into him and Jenna in the comics store!

^ me being so insanely happy but embarrassed bc I was partially non verbal and was trying so hard to communicate with him. (he was so incredibly kind and patient and then I helped him find the script he was looking for 😌 <- I do not work at that store)

now rapid fire! I also got to finally see Cirque! my old boss at the club had an extra ticket and brought me along!! (I have tried to sew Cirque THREE times and circumstances have always gotten in the way. mostly me moving abruptly like a week before the date they were in town)

In April, I got to see Hippocampus (one of my FAVE indie bands idc idc) and the guitarist Nathan gave me a pick! I also got to see Conan Gray again (saw him in 2019 without knowing who he was and got obsessed) and Cavetowns show with Tessa Violet. and Tessa RECOGNIZED ME which would have been insane anyways but I look SO different from the past times I've seen her!! I also saw some smaller bands and they were some of the most lovely kind caring people ever!

and then in June I saw 5SOS for the first time. I've been listening to them since I was a little tumblrina in 2014 and I cried so hard during their show. pure unadulterated nostalgia and joy. it was a really good show too (and that month my BFF who I usually go out to Philly to see once a year was able to come to ME because of a work conference 🥹 and my partner came up for our yearly 1 month together!)

also that month I met a comedian I ADORE!!! I found him by accident on Dry Bar Comedy in maybe 2015? and have watched his stuff on YouTube and followed him on Twitter since and I randomly ran into him in a vintage store in Tacoma??? And of course the first thing my dumb ass said instead of "oh wow it's Shayne Smith!! I'm a huge fan" no... I said "YO it's the guy I showed u that one time when I was drunk!!!" to my sister 😭😭 He luckily is a really dope guy, thought it was very funny, and danced around with me

In October I went to a music festival out east and saw a BUNCH of my favorite bands and King Princess said I looked hot, so highlight of my compliments fr (and saw mitski!) Lorde was coming but her set got massively delayed due to faulty tech and I had to make the last train so I didn't get stranded and did not get to see her.

Also I got matching tattoos with my other bff who I flew to seattle to stay with me for a week 🥹 hi @catholicdaredevil

which circles us back to the November/December stuff I talked about first cuz I got excited

The rest of the winter was just struggling through till I saw the sun again but I DID get to meet a long term internet friend at the convention in Seattle (s/o to @pjsforestkid for so lovingly dealing with my low energy the whole day)

April I saw Noel Miller live!!! June my partner came up and we traipsed around

and then September and October I got to sew 4 hozier shows, was barricade for 3 of them (and have professional photos for all 3 times I was barricade which is INSANE!!!!!), hozier called me out on stage for my shirt, I got posted on his ig, and I met almost the entirety of a friend group I've had since 2019 AND DanandPhilGames returned from the hiatus

it's been an insane almost 2 years I finally feel like my life is sorting itself out and I'm so overjoyed

this is such a long fucking post but your tags just reminded me of all the joy and love I have been experiencing and the love that continues!!! I am so happy :)

[southernswampmamma]

Magic Man: Chapter 5

Original! Male Character x Original! Black Female Character

Chapter Warnings: Slow Burn, Age Gap

Summary: Yolana Humphry spent her entire life stuck in Tapioca, Alabama, under the thumb of her controlling Aunt Freda. That is, until a stranger comes along and swoops her off her feet. A charming man, that everyone but herself seems to know; who easily bypasses her fragile walls and embeds himself in her heart. Escape, however, doesn’t seem to be the end of Yolana’s journey. With her newfound freedom, she now has the opportunity to pursue something she never thought she could obtain.

Chapter Summary: With the weekend to lessen the effects of Friday evening, Yolana looks forward to Monday morning, but it seems like she can never get a break.

I try to be very inclusive with my stories, even if I write in an original female character. So, though she has a name, the only characteristic known is that she is black.

I also plan to write stories for everyone, not just a specific race!

Chapter Five

Forget Me Not

By the time Monday morning arrived, Yolana successfully got over her Friday night blunder. She talked to Nathan, through text, throughout the weekend and he thankfully didn’t mention anything about the slip up. Yolana herself was extra careful not to mention anything about that day at all. It still randomly flashed through her thoughts throughout the weekend, every time making her visibly react from the embarrassment. She cringed while clipping Freda’s ends, which resulted in a suspicious side eye. She cringed while helping her uncle get some things from their attic, which made him think she was sick or going through her “monthly”. Yolana even cringed while attending Sunday school. When Freda saw that one, it was the 5th time, and she wanted the girl to go to the altar to get prayed for. Yolana accepted the prayer, hoping it would do some good in making the embarrassment disappear from her psyche. With her complete avoidance of mentioning the whole phone matter, Yolana happily left her home. Knowing the ride to work that morning wouldn’t be an awkward one.

Yolana met Nathan at the open passenger door, giving him a glowing smile. He returned it the best he could, because it didn’t reach his eyes or hold the same emotion. Yolana assumed he might have been tired. He did mention he was helping Thomas retile. He took her hand and helped her inside.

“Happy Monday.” Yolana said, as Nathan watched her enter the truck. He returned the sentiment, then rounded the vehicle to get back in. Yolana reached for her seat belt and, upon clicking it in, a voice sounded from the back seat.

“Morning.”

A piercing scream shot through the truck, and when hearing it, Nathan flinched. “Jesus!” he expressed. Yolana held her hand to her heart, frozen in place and staring at the brown eyes of Candace in the back seat. The woman fluttered a friendly wave Yolana’s way before settling back into the seat.

“Oh my God! What are you doing back there?” Yolana asked, still staring wide eyed at the woman. She was sitting cutely in her seat, one leg over the other, not at all bothered by Yolana’s surprise.

“Nathan volunteered to take me to work today.” Candace said, nonchalantly.

Yolana’s eyes shot over to Nathan, who was too busy navigating out of the neighborhood to meet her gaze.

“Oh.” Yolana said, as if she should have known better. She turned back around, then staring straight ahead. “I didn’t know you lived near Elijah, Candace.”

“Oh, I don’t. Nathan was just in my neighborhood, and I hitched a ride.” Candace admitted suggestively.

Yolana looked over at Nathan again. He still didn’t meet her eyes, and she knew, that he knew she was looking at him. He was strangely paying extra attention to the road, as though if he had taken his eyes away once, the truck could swerve right into another vehicle. However, the streets weren’t that busy and the only other vehicle was a suitable distance in front of them.

“Well, that’s really nice of you, Nathan.” Yolana said sarcastically, dragging her eyes away from him. She crossed her arms and stared out the window, which was her position for the rest of the car ride.

Candace mostly kept up the conversation in the car, and since Yolana didn’t feel up to talking, it was up to Nathan to converse with her. Yolana was annoyed, but she couldn’t pinpoint what she was most annoyed by. She also couldn’t settle on whether she had any right to be annoyed in the first place. Why was Candace there? Why did Nathan give her a ride to work? Why did Yolana care? Also, why was Nathan avoiding eye contact?

Yolana knew why Candace was there. She wasn’t dumb, but why did he have to bring her with him? Well, because he’s a fucking gentleman, Yolana. Her inner voice nagged. The same Nathan that approached her at Belvin’s anniversary party and offered her a ride to work is the same Nathan that offered Candace that same ride to work. Though, Yolana knew that she still didn’t want the other woman there and couldn’t shake her attitude. However, before anything else, she shouldn’t even care. She had no claim on Nathan, and she should be ashamed to be so jealous that Candace was there. Was she jealous? Or was she just annoyed that Nathan would put her in such an awkward position? After she had to practically wipe her memory, over the weekend, of the other awkward position she put herself in. Also, why wasn’t Nathan looking at her? Was he ignoring her to pay more attention to Candace, or could he tell that Yolana was annoyed at them? If it was the latter, he should know that it was his doing predominantly. He could at least give her simple eye contact except for avoiding her direction all together. All these thoughts flew around in Yolana’s conscience. They swarmed, and some disappeared, only to come back full volume. All these thoughts might have been jealousy, and Yolana was giving herself a headache, but she couldn’t seem to care anymore.

By the time the trio arrived at the blood bank, Yolana was already exhausted and wanted to go home. She said nothing to Nathan as she shut the door behind her and barely looked Candace direction when she walked off. However, when she entered the building, she could tell Candace was right on her heels. She turned towards her station to avoid her, but was stopped.

“Girl,” Candace said with a flabbergasted flair. “I didn’t want to say anything while we were in the truck, but girl.” Candace blew out a strong breath, as if she spent an exuberant amount of energy. “Last night, I have to tell you about it. That man showed up and showed out. Meet me for lunch because you need to know!” Candace left it at that and walked away, leaving Yolana there looking dumbfounded. If Candace thought Yolana was going to ruin her one and only break during the shift to listen to her and Nathan’s fuck story, she must be out of her damn mind. Yolana would rather walk into traffic blindfolded than listen to whatever Candace had to say. She decided she had enough of Candace for the rest of the day and wouldn’t be meeting her for lunch.

Nathan sat in his grandfather’s garage lacing up his boots so he could help Thomas finish up retiling one of the downstairs bathrooms. He pulled on the worn strings, thinking that maybe it was time he bought a new pair. Maybe he and Yolana could stop by the mall one day this week so he could pick some out. He would ask her, only if she wanted to talk to him, that is. The ride in the truck that morning was a rough one. More awkward than the first time he picked her up and Nathan could tell that when he picked her up later, it would be just the same. He couldn’t blame her, though. Every time she looked in his direction, he couldn’t find it in himself to meet her questioning stare. It was like he had no answer for her, and he couldn’t put his finger on the reason why. So he sat there and conversed with Candace while drowning in the thick, cramped air in the front seat.

Elijah entered through the garage door but stopped in his tracks, not expecting Nathan to be there, since he hadn’t seen the boy after the evening before. Nathan hadn’t yet noticed when Elijah had entered, so the old man snuck around his vehicles, taking slow and steady old man steps towards his grandson. Elijah couldn’t be too quiet however, the weight of his cane’s thumping across the concrete was too loud and soon alerted Nathan of his presence. When Nathan lifted his head towards Elijah, the old man slapped his knee, caught.

“Well, dog-gonnit!” Elijah cursed, giving up his scheme.

Nathan huffed. “Now I hope you didn’t think you could actually sneak up on me?”

“I used to get you good when you were a kid.” Elijah countered with a point of his finger. Nathan was 3 1/5 foot taller and nearly 150 pounds heavier than the last time Elijah could successfully sneak up on him. Nathan shook his head and continued what he was doing.

Elijah watched Nathan as he finished tying his boots, then standing to put on a denim overshirt. Elijah leaned with both hands on his cane and watched Nathan reach around himself to retrieve a pair of work gloves, and then, upon the wall, some safety glasses. Nathan could feel his grandfather’s observant eye and felt as if Elijah was examining him. He began to feel weird. Not a bad weird but a confused weird. Nathan looked at Elijah, askance. The old man didn’t avert his gaze at all and stood there steadfast, looking at him. Nathan was going to ignore him. He was going to continue grabbing things around the garage until he had everything he needed to meet Thomas.

He did well overlooking Elijah’s presence, that is until he saw his grandfather shake his head in his peripheral. Nathan directly looked at him then, questioning silently. When Elijah didn’t open his mouth to say anything, Nathan asked Elijah what was up.

“Are you trying to creep me out or something?” He was succeeding very well.

Elijah ignored Nathan’s question and asked one of his own. “How was your morning?”

He told him it was alright, then Elijah nodded his head.

“How’s Miss. Yolana doing this morning?” Elijah asked secondly. He watched Nathan’s expression curve downward. The boy looked away in thought for a second.

“I suppose she’s alright as well.” Nathan said, though he knew he was wrong. He hadn’t talked to Yolana at all throughout the day. By that time of day, they would have been on at least their 4th conversation.

“That’s good, that’s good. I bet she enjoyed seeing Candace this morning, as well.”

Nathan was fuddled. “How did you- “

“Nathan,” Elijah sighed, rolling his bright eyes as if his grandson were slow. “You asked about her Saturday night and then left Sunday night, not coming home until, I’m assuming, this morning. Candace doesn’t have a car, so I know you took her to work this morning.” Elijah stated matter of fact. “Just tell me, Son. Did you at least put Candace in the back seat?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. So, you’re not that dumb.”

Nathan put his hands on his hips, tired of being confused throughout the conversation.

“What are you on about?” He stretched out his words in exhaustion. “Why am I dumb?”

Elijah was getting stiff, so he hobbled over to where Nathan was previously sitting. He stretched his long legs, hearing them pop, and began to knead at both of his worn knees.

“You and miss Yolana are just innocent friends, I know, but I don’t think she took too kindly on seeing Miss. Candace in the truck this morning.” Elijah said, extending a compassionate smile.

Well, Nathan knew that already. He shouldn’t have offered Candace that ride. He shouldn’t have even stayed the night. Nathan should have left right after, like he had intended, but Candace convinced him to stay. So, he had to deal with a guilty conscience he didn’t know why he had, and a sour Yolana.

He looked off into the distance, hands still on his hip. “She wasn’t even supposed to see her.” he tried to explain. More to himself than to Elijah. Even when Candace convinced him to lie back down, Nathan was just going to take a nap and leave the bed right when the sun rose. That way, he could get back, take a shower and head over to Yolana’s house to pick her up. He didn’t expect Candace to wake up and see him searching for his pants. God, he should have never left his bed.

“Well, what you hiding her for?” Elijah asked.

“Well…” Nathan started, but he couldn’t seem to finish. He just stared at Elijah, dumb like, while the old man smiled at him audaciously.

On the surface, there was no severity in the issue. Nathan, a grown man with needs, met his needs with Candace, a grown woman. Nathan had no ties with Candace nor Yolana, but there was a small underlying puddle of guilt that tugged at the bottom of his stomach. Was it because Candace was Yolana’s friend? Or did it have something to do with the fact that Nathan only accepted Candace’s offer because of Yolana? He wouldn’t have been so horny to begin with if Yolana never had called him. It was her voice on the other end; her soft, honeyed voice, that reminded him of how long it’d been. So, he called up Candace on Sunday night, because he knew he couldn’t ring up Yolana. Though he wouldn’t mind, but they were in a respectful friendship and her aunt would probably call the law on him. Additionally, he didn’t want Yolana to think he only offered her a ride to get her in his bed. Nathan was making excuses. All in all, he slept with Candace and didn’t want Yolana to know about it because he felt like he was betraying her in some way.

“It means a lot to Yolana, what you’re doing for her. More than you realize. And if I’m not mistaken, the time ya’ll are spending together has an effect on you, too.” Elijah shrugged his shoulders. “But I could be wrong.”

“Pops, are you implying that I’m falling for Yolana?” Nathan asked. He wouldn’t say that he was. It had only been a week. However, he wasn’t ignorant of the way she looked at him sometimes. He also made no attempt to squash any pursuit for a deeper relationship. It was more in Nathan’s nature to let things run its course, whether it be friendship or something more. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be. The idea of him with Yolana didn’t upset him. He didn’t hate it. They got along very well and had similar interests. She was very easy to look at. He definitely considered her gorgeous. He won’t pretend that he doesn’t look forward to seeing her and spending time with her. Plus, the whole phone call situation.

“No, just that I know my grandson.”

It wasn’t long after Nathan got started with Thomas that his phone vibrated in his back pocket. He stood there with a marker in his mouth, taking off his gloves to retrieve his phone. When he opened it, he could see that Yolana had finally decided to reach out to him. He pushed down the boost her text lent his mood as he tapped on her name. It didn’t last, after all, when he read the message she’d sent.

[Don’t worry about taking me home today. Just take Candace.] [I want to take the bus.]

Yolana flipped her phone over and turned away from it. It took her 10 minutes to send the message and when she’d sent it; she was too scared to see his response. She quickly flipped it back over to turn it on silent, before putting it back on its face.

Riding the bus was not her plan for the evening, but Yolana couldn’t convince herself to ride in the truck with Nathan and Candace for the second time. She had been avoiding Candace all day, and it was surprising how difficult it was. Yolana never noticed how much their paths crossed until that day. It didn’t help that Candace was actively looking for Yolana every chance she got. Yolana was exhausted. Physically, she was both working and hiding from Candace. Mentally, she was trying to convince herself that it was no big deal. Nathan was an adult, and so was Candace. Though she wasn’t treated like one and wasn’t currently acting like one, Yolana was an adult as well. So why is she still upset?

The first man in ever came along and treated her like a lady. Taking rides in his big truck and paying for everything. Made her smile and loosen up, forgetting about the theoretical chains around her social life and mind. Making her think that there was a way for her to have a normal life, with a family, and a nice house, with a white picket fence. All in one week. It took one week of semi-freedom for Yolana to feel that way, and to her chagrin, to start falling for a man she knew was just being friendly. Well, Yolana was put back in her place today. Nathan slept with her coworker.

Yolana spent the next few hours doing paperwork and labeling samples. Just busy work since all her clients came through and there were no walk-ins. It kept her mind empty, but she wished she had brought her notebook. Her notebook, with her mazes, that had retro stylized drawings of National Park maps littered all over the latest pages. Yolana slammed her face into her hands.

“If 2o’clock don’t hurry its ass up.” She muttered into her palms.

It was agonizing, but 1:30 PM made it slowly and Yolana was gathering her things, paying no mind as she opened her phone. She had actually forgotten about the text she sent earlier and was unprepared when she saw Nathan’s message. Yolana didn’t close the app after silencing her phone, of course, so just her luck when she opened it, there was Nathan’s response front, and center.

[You’re not avoiding me. I’ll pick you up @ 2]

[Candace won’t be riding.]

The audacity of him to point out her avoidance when he wouldn’t even look her in the face that morning, Yolana thought. She huffed, then stuffed her burner into her bag. She proceeded out of the building, making sure to beat Candace just in case. If Yolana didn’t see the truck in the parking lot, then she was heading straight for the bus stop. Nathan be dammed. He usually showed up right at 2, Yolana never telling him they usually get out at around 1:30; 1:45. So there was a good chance that he wouldn’t be there.

Yolana parted through the doors, throwing quick glances around the lot before departing. She was only 15 steps from the entrance when she heard a sharp whistle and the yell of her name. She stopped dead in her tracks, anxiously looking wide-eyed towards the sound. In the distance, she saw him. Nathan leaned against the front of the truck with his hands in the pockets of his brown Dickies. He wore a matching brown baseball cap with his chocolate hair tucked behind his ears. He wore a worn cream-colored t-shirt with a faded logo that covered most of the chest. Even with his arms relaxed, the sleeves of his shirt were taught around his biceps. He wore the same boots he wore every day that went with every outfit he decked.

Nathan stood there with a cheeky smile. He smiled as if he just caught someone unsuccessfully, and quite clumsily, running away from him. He smiled even harder when that someone pitifully turned around and walked his direction surrendering. When Yolana was close to the truck, Nathan stood up to open the door for her. Yolana silently got in, unconsciously looking in the rearview mirror for any surprises in the back seat. She found nothing, just some old towels folded in the center. Nathan climbed into the driver’s seat and put the truck in gear, peeling out of the parking lot.

They were a little down the street before Nathan broke the silence.

“So, what’cha up for today? I’m feeling for some Mexican. You said you loved Mexican food, right?” Nathan looked over to Yolana, who looked back at him, unimpressed.

“I don’t want Mexican.” She said simply.

Nathan tried again. “What about something simple? Maybe Waffle House?”

“I would like to just go home.” Yolana responded, folding her arms.

Nathan brought his attention back to the road while he thought. He was foolishly hoping that her mood would have improved a little by the time he picked her up. At least enough to hang with him that afternoon. There was a place Nathan planned on visiting that he thought Yolana would love. It was in town, so it wouldn’t be too far from her home.

“Well, I would love to take you home, but I have to make a stop first and pick something up.” Nathan said. “I figured you would want something to eat while we were out.”

Yolana suspiciously looked in his direction, not believing him for one second. He turned to her sheepishly, looking unapologetically apologetic. Yolana rolled her eyes and looked away.

“Fine.” was all she said.

Nathan smirked, thinking her little attitude was cute.

“So, what is it? Mexican or Waffle House?”

Yolana settled on fast food instead. She didn’t want to get out and eat, she just wanted to get the afternoon over with. She tried her best to ignore her itching thoughts, but they got the best of her and she ended up saying something, anyway.

“So, why didn’t Candace come?” She didn’t dare look at him when she asked. She pretended to pick something out of her jacket to seem uninterested in his answer either way.

Nathan didn’t hesitate when he answered. “Didn’t want her to.” He answered plainly.

Yolana went further. “Why not? She doesn’t have a car.”

“Yea, but she has a ride. I don’t need to take her home, and she lives out of the way.”

“Nathan, I’m out of the way.”

Nathan grins. “Yeah, well, you’re different.” Nathan said, honestly.

Yolana mentally shook herself. The last thing she needed was to take Nathan’s words for more than what they meant. Obviously, forgetting what was going on brought her to the predicament her emotions were currently in, even after trying to be careful. She didn’t respond to him. She just sat there, allowing him to take her wherever he wanted.

They arrived at a local nursery right off the main road. Nathan explained to Yolana that he wanted to pick flowers for Elijah and order some for back home. He didn’t tell her that he also wanted to go there to cheer her up. Nathan noticed that she loved flowers, not just from their visit to the lake, but he noticed with her floral phone case and floral bandana patterns. He even noticed the little flower doodles in her notebook. He also remembered the story Booboo told him about her bouquet and thought it was about time she replaced what she had lost. Nathan didn’t know how Freda would react if Yolana brought home some flowers, but Nathan didn’t care that much about her aunt.

Except for getting out, the two decided to stay in the car and eat. Yolana, seeing where they were, concluded that their stop wasn’t going to be a quick one at all. She wasn’t complaining about it. She was fine with being outside and looking at the pretty flowers and different plants. Yolana always wanted her own garden. She thought one day she would grow one when she got her own home, whenever that would be.

She took off her seat belt, then her jacket, and finally her scrub top, folding it neatly into her bag. It gets so cold inside the blood bank that she had to layer up throughout every season.

She grabbed her meal and started opening it while Nathan did the same. He squeezed his big hand between the door and the seat and coasted his seat all the way back before reclining it as well. Yolana watched, but not noticeably, as he got comfortable. He reminded her again of a tiger settling down. If Yolana was honest with herself, she would admit she loved watching him every time he did it. Her favorite part being him stretching his legs. They always settled deep into the bottom of the truck where the petals were. Even with the seat all the way in the backseat. She wondered how tall he was. She never asked. He’s sure to be over 6 foot.

“6 foot, 4.” Nathan answered.

Yolana looked up to his amused eyes. “I didn’t ask.” It wasn’t meant to be rude, but she was surprised that he knew what she was thinking. He didn’t seem to take offense.

“Everyone wonders, so I knew the look.” He explained. There were not a lot of people his size and height, so when a person looked him up and down, it was mostly in awe of his tall stature.

Yolana nodded. She looked over his body again, this time openly. “You must have given your mamma hell in the hospital.”

His chest shook from his laughter. “Actually, I was only a two-hour baby. Came right out.”

With how easy-going of a person Nathan was, Yolana had no doubt he was telling the truth. She nodded again, turning towards her meal.

“So,” Nathan taps his fingertips against the middle console. “You ready to talk to me, or are you going to stay quiet?”

“What do you mean?” Yolana asked, calm and collected.

Nathan scoffed. She can’t possibly try to pretend she was not upset when she was obviously not trying to hide her attitude.

“You’re more quiet than normal. You were like that this morning. It makes me feel like you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.” Yolana sipped her drink.

“You’re not upset?”

“Nope.”

Nathan smiled. “So you’re not at all upset that Candace was in here this morning?”

Yolana shrugged her shoulders while looking out the door at the people perusing through the nursery. Her hand deftly searched through her bag for fries.

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought her to work every day with us?” he paused. “Since she doesn’t have a car, you know?”

Yolana slipped up. She snapped her head towards Nathan, an obvious displeased glare baked onto her face. When she saw Nathan’s shit-eating grin, her face dropped and morphed into annoyance.

“Well, I guess that answers that question.” He said, grin still in place. It answered more than that. He let her stew for a second before continuing. “Don’t be so upset, Lana.” Nathan pleaded. “It was only one ride. I don’t plan on making it more.”

Yolana had never heard him shorten her name before. It was new, but he said it so easily, like it was nothing. It had an effect on her, pushing the wall she put up between them, down. Yolana sighed.

“It was just a little uncomfortable. I know why she was there, and it made me feel weird.”

From her reaction moments earlier and what Elijah had warned him, Nathan knew Yolana was more than just uncomfortable. “It means a lot to Yolana, what you’re doing for her. More than you realize.” The warning repeated in Nathan’s mind. Yes, Yolana was uncomfortable that morning. Hell, so was he. However, Nathan thought that Yolana was even more jealous.

“I’ll get over it.” Yolana said after some time. She retreated mentally and physically, turning away from Nathan and looking at the scenery outside.

“I’m sorry for bringing her along. I didn’t even want to.” Nathan apologized. He hoped that knowing he didn’t want Candace there in the first place would make Yolana feel better, but how? That he would have rather hid it from her? She didn’t turn towards him. He’s sure she heard him, but Yolana was so lost in her thoughts. Nathan called her name to get her attention. When she looked at him, she began to register what he said.

“Don’t apologize, there’s no reason to.” Yolana gave a small smile and Nathan decided to let the subject go. Well, only to switch to another one.

“Have you ever been here?” he asked, referring to the nursery. Yolana shook her head, no. The nursery’s got to be as old as she was. How come she had never been? Suddenly, Nathan remembered Freda. “Your aunt doesn’t let you go out much.” It was a statement he said, more to himself than to Yolana. Nathan sighed and leaned further back.

“You know, you can just walk out the door.” He waved his hand. “She can’t stop you.”

“And after I come back, we’re going to argue.” Yolana stated. It was her turn to sigh. “I know I can just walk out. I know I can just do what I want, but I’m always going to have to go back. I live there.” Yolana wadded up her paper and stuffed it into the bag. “You’re not the first to let me know, by the way. It’s easier to let her have her way and, frankly, she’s the only person I got. I have nowhere to go if I decided to walk out and never come back.” Yolana finished.

Nathan looked at his hands. “She’s not hurting you, though. Right, Yolana?” His face was grim.

Yolana shook her head. “No, she don’t touch me.” She laughed. “Her words sure hurt sometimes, but she don’t lay any hands on me.” Nathan let out a breath, relieved. However, the image of her standing out in the rain on Friday was etched inside his mind. It was great that Yolana was physically ok, but how she was treated mentally still bothered him. He looked at her fiddling with her scrub bottoms, obviously still in a bad mood. Mostly his doing. Though his feelings were still unclear, he could acknowledge that he cared about Yolana. After only one week with her, Nathan truly cared about her, and he can’t find it in himself to leave without getting to the bottom of her troubles. Maybe he should have another talk with Chief Friday.

Yolana stared at two different pots holding two fresh flowers, unsure of which she preferred. Her eyebrows were turned, and lips puckered in thought, assisted by her tapping a foot on the dirt. The Daisies were simple, classic, and pretty, sitting in their yellow ceramic pot. The flowers were standing straight, and the bright white petals didn’t have a single blemish on them. The Forget Me Not’s were a vibrant blue that contrasted greatly with the other flowers sitting around them. They weren’t flowers that she saw everywhere, and the bright blue looked lovely against her skin. The pretty cluster of flowers was adorned by big green leaves that made the pot look fuller.

Nathan left her 20 minutes ago with a task to find herself something pretty. She declined his offer, but he was very insistent that she take something home. So, he’d left her for a search for his own plants and was hoping she found something by the time he got back. She looked around for a few minutes before finding the Daisies. Yolana picked them up and carried them around until she found the Forget Me Not’s. She then carried them both around, looking for a third alternative, but when coming up with nothing, she settled with the two options. Yolana sat them both on the ground and stared at them, unmoving until Nathan came up behind her, forming a gigantic shadow above her. She looked up at him, only seeing his beard before he returned her look.

“Can’t decide.” She spoke. Her face heated when he smiled. “Help me pick.”

Nathan rounded her with his fist to his chin. “Hmmm. Daisies or Forget Me Not’s.” He looked from the flowers to her face and back at the flowers. After a few passes back and forth, Nathan pointed at the pretty blue flowers in the groovy looking pink pot. “Forget Me Not’s. Myosotis Scorpiodes.” He blanched in acknowledgement. “That’s the nerdiest shit I ever said in my life.”

Yolana bowed over in hilarity. She was loud and gathered attention, though her laughter was short-lived. Nathan covered his face with a hand, hiding his blushing embarrassment. Yolana stood back up with more quiet laughter and Nathan couldn’t help but let a few huffs out himself.

“How do you remember their scientific name? Wait, how many plant names do you know?” Yolana wiped tears from her eyes.

“Quite a few, actually.” Nathan admitted. His blush was getting no clearer. He bent down and picked up the pink pot of flowers. “Whatever. I think these are the perfect ones for you.”

“Why these and not the Daisies?”

Nathan looked down at the flowers again. “They’re more like you than the Daisies.” He thought for a second. “Practically, they’re spring flowers, your favorite season, and die down in the winter, your least favorite season. You like being around people and being a part of things, but hate the idea of being the center of attention, just like these flowers. They like part shade, being forest flowers and all. They grow better in the sun, but with a taller plant giving them some shade.” He paused. “Plus, there is symbolism with them being named Forget Me Not’s and all, but I’m sure you can connect those dots.”

Yolana stared at Nathan wide eyed. That was scary. How did he see that in the flowers and connect them so well to her? Nathan stared back at Yolana, wide eyed as well. Why was she so surprised?

“What? I pay attention when you talk to me.”

Yolana looked down at the flowers tucked into Nathan’s arm. She stared at them and suddenly they weren’t flowers anymore, but a reflection of herself. Nathan allowed Yolana to take the flowers from his arm. He watched her expression change from consideration to a pleased warmth. She hugged the plant to herself before looking up at Nathan with a goofy tinge of happiness.

There it was, the smile Nathan’s been looking for.

“So, are these the one?” Nathan asked. Honestly, he would buy them both if she asked. Yolana nods satisfactorily.

“What’s the other symbolism? Compliment me some more.” Yolana asked prettily.

There was a single braid laid on Yolana’s shoulder that Nathan had the urge to take and tuck behind her. He instead pushed his hands into his pockets.

“They’re the flower for faithfulness and loyalty. Remembrance, of course, and respect. I believe you have a lot of those qualities.” His words were sincere. “And they’re tiny, like you.”

Yolana’s smile disappeared. “Ha. Ha.” she said flatly. It was not the first time Nathan had made fun of her size. Yolana was actually average sized, but to him, she obviously looked smaller. Everybody should look small to Nathan.

“Well, Buttercup, you want to look around some more with me before I take you home?” He gave her another little nickname and Yolana found that she liked them.

The drive back home was surrounded by a comfortable silence and a mix of fragrant flowers. Some sat in the backseat of the truck and one sitting in Yolana’s lap. It was also filled with Yolana’s constant appreciation of her pot of flowers, taking pictures of them from different angles. Then there was Nathan, who couldn’t stop peeking at her. He was proud that at the end of the day, he got her to smile again. As adorable as she was when she was upset, he didn’t want her to feel that way. She didn’t deserve it.

“So, what are you going to tell your aunt when she sees them?” Yolana shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Maybe say a coworker gave them to me.” Yolana knew one thing, however. They were flowers she was going to keep.

[megraen]

I am starting a new fanfiction for the Uncharted fandom. Enjoy.

The Taste of Poisonous Gold - 01

“Well,” He spoke softly, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “You’re Sara.” “And you’re Nathan.” She spoke, returning his smile. “Call me Nate.” He breathed. “It’s what Sam called me.” When Nate spoke his brother’s name, his eyes dropped to his mug, frown pulling at his lips.  “In your letter…you said Samuel…sorry, Sam…you said he passed a year ago.” She hesitated to ask him.  Nate nodded. “Yeah, we were working a job with a friend in Panama…it didn’t go well.” Sara’s brows furrowed. “A job?” “Uh, yeah…” Nate looked back up at her, sparing a glance to the waitress at the counter and signalling the woman over. “I’m a treasure hunter if you can believe it.” A small smile spread over Sara’s face as she heard him, a brief chuckle leaving her lips. This earned a look from Nate, who failed to understand the joke.  Sara had waved her hand before her face when she saw his expression, not wanting to worry him. The waitress had come over, placing a cup in front of her, filling it with coffee, and even touching Nate’s cup. “The irony.” “Irony?” He asked, taking a sip of the fresh coffee. “I’m a history major.” She stated, smirking when he almost choked on the liquid he was trying to ingest.  “Damn, it really does run in the family…” He mumbled. Nate placed his cup down and reached for a bag by the legs of his chair, opening it up and pulling out a white journal, the initials C.M. embossing the front. He offered it to Sara, who took it. “This belonged to our mother, and she was an archaeologist and historian. Your middle name, Evelyn, was actually from her mentor.” Sara bit her lip to hold back the tears that were stinging her eyes, her fingers tracing over the initials of her mother’s name. She spotted a small piece of paper peaking out of the top of the journal and grabbed it. At first, she assumed it would be a photo of her mother, but instead, Sara found herself staring at a man for looked to be in his late twenties. He looked similar to Nate in appearance but with somewhat longer and more dishevelled hair. “That’s Sam.”  Sara continued to stare at the photo of her eldest brother, a man she would never get the opportunity to meet. She closed her eyes, fighting back the tears again. “What was he like?” She asked, opening her eyes and meeting Nate’s fellow green orbs.  Nate chuckled, his mind replaying memories of his brother. “He was a sarcastic idiot, always cracking jokes, even at worst times. But he also had a knack for getting himself into trouble.” His smile fell as he added the last bit, hinting to Sara that his passing might have resulted from the man’s reckless nature.  “More family-shared traits then,” Sara commented, sliding the photo back into the journal. Nate chuckled. He knew what she meant the moment the words left her mouth. She was as much a Morgan as he was. As Sam was. She had offered the journal back to Nate, but he shook his head, pushing it back towards her. “I want you to read it, to understand our mother as we did. It’s all we have left of her, I was too young to remember her face, and when our dad abandoned us, we assumed he got rid of all photos of her.”