#m:nate

[fcreverlasting]

NATE_FLETCH🔒 JUST POSTED TO INSTAGRAM !

nate & theodora's london trip, june 3rd to 13th — photo dump posted june 14th tagged: theodora @earlyblues ★

[lostbutnever-found]

Fateful Run-In

          Noise. There was always noise in this city. Cars honking, people yelling, people talking loudly on their phones, the sound of women’s heels on the pavement, couples arguing, children’s screaming in joy, children throwing tantrums. So much noise. Nate wasn’t used to it anymore, he didn’t like it. He liked his peace and quiet, he liked being able to hear himself think without someone else’s conversation wafting into his own as they passed him by. Even his apartment wasn’t a quiet escape. Windows closed and he could still hear the cars on the streets and the yells of drunken people late at night. 

           It’s why he always travelled. He was rarely at his New York apartment unless he had to be there for games and practice. Even a weekend getaway was good enough for him. He didn’t want to go back to Lanford, he just never seemed to do any good while he was there, hurting people and especially the one person, he cared about most. 

           So there he was walking the busy streets of New York, exhausted, tired and with a killer headache in need of a desperate quiet escape, There was only one place that could do that, a small little cafe tucked away in an alleyway in Manhattan. He’d found it with her a long time ago when they had decided to get lost in New York and explore as many back streets and alleyways and places you wouldn’t normally see when you go to New York. They’d stumbled inside all those years ago, laughing in between themselves, lost in their own world. It was his escape haven anytime he needed one. It was quiet and the coffee was good. 

           He rounded the corner and marched his way up to the cafe, opening the door and taking in a deep breath, letting the smells and the quiet fill his senses. He let the door close behind him and somehow it felt like the outside world was completely separate. He ordered himself a coffee and sat down in a comfy chair, opening up a travel brochure and wondering where he would go to next. 

           The door to the cafe opened and the bell chimed, he looked up and was instantly at a loss of words. He stood up abruptly and stepped in her path, eyes wide and chest heaving, wondering what the chances were of her coming to the cafe the same day as him. “Soph.” 

@euphoriatus

[fcreverlasting]

NATE_FLETCH🔒 JUST POSTED TO INSTAGRAM !

tagged: theodora @earlyblues & lucky ★

[fcreverlasting]

starter: theodora ( @earlyblues ) location: cake a diem, sometime end of january 2026

His feet carry him in before he can think it through. He knows her schedule, but he should've double checked, should've messaged Danny to make sure he'd be the one behind the counter. In hindsight, he should've gone to Harvey's instead. He hasn't bought groceries all week, fridge empty save for old, spoiled milk he hasn't thrown away yet. Now he's in the queue, overthinking how much worse it'll be if she sees him turn and leave. This is fine. He's just going to order something to eat, first time today at an unhealthy 4pm, and be on his way. No chitchat, no pressure — just a normal, well-adjusted customer and the most beautiful cashier in the world. No big deal. "Hey." Shit, he doesn't even know what he wants. "Can I get a coffee, please?" Not that he needs help staying awake at night, but he's desperate to fill the silence.

[fcreverlasting]

NATE_FLETCH🔒 JUST POSTED TO INSTAGRAM !

nate's barely active, locked instagram account, april 2026 featuring theodora @earlyblues & winter @yourcinluv second post. seventh post stolen from theodora's story.

[fcreverlasting]

starter: theodora ( @earlyblues ) location: nate's flat, jan 18th

He's working on it, really, he is, but as he holds the cheap biro he leaves in the kitchen drawer, it just doesn't feel right in his hand; too light, too flimsy. Between that and Theodora's perfume, he can't keep his thoughts straight, and he has no intentions of asking Theodora to do anything but come closer. "Baby, can you fetch me the pen I like while you're in the bedroom? I'll keep an eye on lunch." He asks after her retreating form, likely off to dig another layer out of his wardrobe. Why is it so cold in here? "I'm guessing it's on the side— And she's gone." Lips pursed, he glances at the oven, reaches over to turn the heat down a little, then shifts his attention back to his crossword while he waits.

[fcreverlasting]

cider point, ma. march 16th, 2026 — 12:29pm london, england. mother's day, 2026 — 4:29pm

"Did the card arrive in time?"

His mother sighs, "Nate, it was postmarked February 3rd."

"Over 60 years of experience and you still think everything arrives on time?" He's grateful for his parents' burnt out WiFi as her scolding's muted by the stuttering of the call. "You got the flowers, too, I take it?" She'd usually have them in the vase behind her already, their tradition long set by now. He'll send a card, organised online for a bouquet — usually chrysanthemums, but sometimes he likes to shake it up — to be delivered, and then call somewhere between eleven and half past. Today, he's late.

"I did. They're in the kitchen. Your dad picked up this pig-ugly vase in a charity shop last week, so I'm hoping if I arrange them well enough, I can hide as many of its sins as possible." His father does love a charity shop buy; Nate didn't realise he was interested in vases, though. "Anyway, how come you're so late? Usually, the message I get at three o'clock is an 'I'm waiting', not a 'running behind'. When was the last time you ran late?"

Last Thursday. They'd been in his doorway when he'd asked if Theodora had her phone in case of emergency. She didn't.

"Slept in." He says instead, eyes drifting as the reason settles herself on the couch with Lucky.

"Is— Oh, thank you. See. Here they are, in your dad's new vase." The flowers are pretty. At least one of the Fletcher men has good taste.

His father pulls over his usual chair, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he appears in frame. "Hey, kid. Late today, huh?"

His mother's voice cuts in before he can repeat himself, "he slept in with his mysterious girlfriend." Nate's eyes roll.

"She can hear you, by the way." Not that he'd hesitate, his cursor already over the End Call button, if there's so much as a hint of a complaint. After the long conversations the two of them have had about Nate's upbringing since their first date, they're lucky Theodora's still happy for them to receive the small amount of faceless photos and stories of their time together that he does share.

"What your mum means to say, is that we're happy that you're happy, and take all the time you need." His father, always the levelheaded one. The older his mother has gotten, the more she's let her emotions control her. Unfortunately for him, he had to have gotten his once more dismal social skills from somewhere.

"No," Nate's fingertip hovers above the touchpad on his laptop, "well, yes, but—" She frowns. "We shouldn't have raised him to be so secretive." Nate laughs, because that's the least of his worries in the aftermath of their parenting, and because he can see Theodora very clearly listening in from across the room.

"There'll be plenty opportunities in the future for you all to meet—" He holds up a hand, already anticipating her interrupting him. "The more you complain, the longer I'm going to make you wait. I'm in no rush to come back to London, especially not right now. At least by summer, it'll only be raining five days a week, instead of all seven." He doesn't miss how Theodora's head picks up, and he already knows the barrage of questions that's awaiting him once he hangs up — which won't be long, because as they'd correctly pointed out, he's off schedule.

He's prepared again, once his mother's excuse starts to tumble out. "I just worry about you; you keep so many secrets. What if something's going on and we can't help because—"

"I'm starting to think you just find me having a beautiful, wonderful girlfriend hard to believe." His smile is a little mischievous, because he knows he's caught her in a trap. "Anyway, now that you've spent your Mother's Day as you always do, berating me even from across the globe, I have places to be, and so do you. I booked you both in at that restaurant you've been dropping really obnoxious hints about since New Years, and transferred the money, so you better go get ready or you're gonna be late."

His father's hand on her shoulder silences his wife, grin blinding. "I love Mother's Day."

[fcreverlasting]

cider point, ma. new years eve, 2024 — 6:58pm london, england. new years eve, 2024 — 11:58pm

The distance doesn't feel so large these days. It's been over three years since he came here, his fourth New Year's Eve on the boardwalk. Weekly calls just like this one close the gap, bridge the ocean between him and his parents when neither are able to make the journey themselves.

"Got a little nervous you weren't going to pick up in time." He admits, grin wide as his mother rolls her eyes. They both know him well enough to know he isn't kidding.

"We still have two minutes to go." She chastises as his father comes into frame, spare chair pulled up. He's been begging them to upgrade to a laptop at home for years, but they stubbornly continue to insist there's nothing wrong with the ten year old tower his father kicks every time he sits at the desk. Don't fix what isn't broken!

Nate taps at his watch. "One minute forty seven seconds, actually." Maybe he's a little more annoying around them, still their son even at thirty-one.

"What are you doing later? Are you going to the boardwalk again?" His father ignores his quip. Nate sighs, a sound so common, yet one that already lost its bite a long time ago.

"Yeah, both Danny and Theodora mentioned it, so I suppose I should show my face." He glances at his wrist, keen not to miss the turn of the hour, his first new year of the night. He'd made sure to resync his watch this morning just in case. "It's a nice night, but it's a bit noisy. Everyone's plastered by, like, half nine." Not that he doesn't enjoy a drink, but he can't see the point in staying up for midnight if you're going to be too far gone to remember it. "Did you guys do anything nice?"

His father is cut off. "No, we had to be home before midnight to call our grown son." She tuts, but Nate can see her hiding a smile behind her hand. (That, and he'd given them the opportunity not to make a tradition of this every year and she's always the one insisting otherwise.)

"Twenty seconds." He clears his throat. "And might I remind you, you could've taken this call on your phone, no requirement to rush home for your grown son. That, might I also remind you, lives across the world, and whom I'm sure you miss dearly and want to see when the stars align."

They both ignore him, watching the last five seconds tick away at the corner of their desktop, waiting for the fireworks to start pounding in the background. They're so loud Nate wonders if he could hear them all the way from here, call be damned.

They share a kiss before wishing him a, "happy first new year," as they do every year. In five hours, he'll message them a happy second new year to wake up to.