#though that isn’t to say yall wont be getting more fics ok

[heartpascal]

missing ur writing😔 reading ur stories truly feels like a big warm embrace, yes they make me cry a little BUT its the good type of tears i promise❤️ when the silly fan fic writer on tumblr is actually insanely talented😭

stopppp u will make me blush 🤭 no but thank u!!!! it is much appreciated <3 and i appreciate every tear you shed ok 😔 i am trying to write i promise <3

[derekmorganscrocs]

Nancy Drew 2x9

Thoughts While Watching

Spoiler Alert!!

Aw no poor bess. AW PLATANCHOR ACE! Oh besties so cute. Poor bess oh no

Odette coming through with the pessimistic vibes about the day. Me. Always. “Nickolas” HAHAH Odette please. She’s so sassy. “No I’m not au-revoiring, you are.” Nick pls. GEORGES TATTOOS- George is gonna die omfg. Pls Nick is the only logical one here. OF COURSE IT WAS GONNA GET STOLEN YOU PUT IT IN YOUR DAMN LOCKER.

oh it’s probably Gil, not Grant. Sorry I thought you were a murderer grant. NOT THE PIE. why’d ace sound so sad about the pie. TELL ME STONER BOY DIDNT SNITCH.

AW ACE THE LIL FLOWER. “Aw Ace I’m so happy for you :) now I’m gonna die :)”. I think that Grant is an informant or something.

Sassy thief bad boy, I like. But I also don’t bc he’s tryna kill george. PROTECTIVE NICK! Detective Nick 😏. OH ACEMANDA, okay. Ohh

Okay wait I kinda feel bad for Gil. But mans is still going to end george. Oh Nick is v hot okay. Protective Nick. I love him. And Gil is kinda noble despite the whole killing george and theft thing ngl.

Carson coming thru. Of course, king Carson thanks babe. “Ok can GEORGE weigh in?” Pls george you’re funny.

BESS OMG WHAT R THOSE? TONGS? Carson and Bess moment funny. “Are you alright?” He sounds so fine with it but also so concerned. AW CARSON FATHERING BESS TOO PLS I LOVE HIM. The Drew Crew is now Carson’s Crew Of Baby Ducks.

Okay I mean at least Amanda didn’t spill. She’s so pretty too!!! Okay but I kinda like the bobseys ngl. Sorry guys. Gil is also very hot. I bet their mom either isn’t dead or is gonna show up as a ghost?? Okay but I feel bad for them no. Oh do I smell an Acemanda scavenger hunt?

NO NO NO NOT THE FANSON FIGHT. AW NO PLS I LOVE THEM. HES PROPOSING?! Oh no nvm. DO NOT BREAK UP. DO NOT. Fanson scavenger hunt?

Oh is that b dead? No nvm they’re still breathing. OH GIL JUST DIPPED. Patience impaired- MOOD. OH THAT WAS HOT “wasn’t this more fun than picking a lock” WOAH THERE BUCKO. YEAH BUT WOAH.

“Am I crying too loud” BESS IS A MOOD. Aww Carson is trying to distract her, please omg. Dad Carson is so cute. LAWYER BESS, LAWYER BESS.

Oh that’s creepy. NOT A BASEMENT- NANCY UR DUMB. OH THAT WAS SO FUCKING SCARY WHYD THIS PRINCE PHILLIP LOOKING MF JUMP LIKE THAT- NOT THE BASEMENT. fake wall? Yeah Gil break down that wall. OH GOD IS THAT HIS MOM?

HE STASHES THINGS BESIDE THE POLICE STATION- WHAT?! I love that. Acemanda could be cute though? Maybe? Idk I need to decide if I can share.

ODETTE IS BACK. Nick is so over it. WHY IS SHE SO SALTY ABT BEING STUCK IN GEORGE LMFAO. PLS “granite, limestone. Be done with it” ODETTE I CANT. She’s outta pocket. “Oh, well. Odette called me an idiot.” PLS NICK AND ODETTE ARE SO FUNNY.

Oh it’s just drawings, I thought it was a body. Poor Gil :( wait I actually feel bad. Ok I’m here for Gil but he’s pissing me off with this whole shroud thing. DONT KILL GEORGE, U HOE. Mommy’s ghost is boutta show up. NO WAIT WHAT IF SHE WAS KILLED BY A GHOST. she totally was. HAHA nancy got caught. I laugh but that was awkward.

KILLED BY GHOST, OBVIOUSLY. “We’ve heard great things about your restrooms.” PLS. Ace knowing nothing about art. NANCY ITS UNKOWN THEYRE OBVS NOT GONNA HAVE THE NAME.

Dad Carson aw. Pls besties Bess and Carson. AWWW THERE WASNT EVEN A HEARING. Carson should just adopt the entire Drew Crew. LAWYER BESS! LAWYER BESS! I WANT LAWYER BESS! Dad Carson please adopt me too. REASSURANCE. I LOVE.

“Technically they sold it to nick” “What?” PLS NICK/ACE IS SO FUNNY TO ME. besties are so funny. SHES NOT DEAD I TOLD YALL SHES NOT DEAD. IF GEORGE DIES I WILL RIOT.

GIL YOU NEED TO CHILL. SIR. PLEASE DO NOT DO IT. DONT DO IT. Oop Nancy is already there. SHES STILL ALIVE I TOLD YOU GUYS. please poor Gil. Aw, I feel so bad. She was definitely actually being haunted, but I digress. No please poor Amanda. “Why would she tell you but not me?” HIS VOICE GOT SO SMALL. TWIN MOMENT. okay but Amanda coming thru for the Drew Crew. WOOHOO GIL REDEMPTION!

“Cheer up Boss.” IF BESS DOESNT KEEP CALLING NICK BOSS ILL BE UPSET. “There’s still an old timey French lady living in my girlfriend.” AW OMG. ODETTE NO-

GEORGE NO. NONONO. oh thank god nick and Bess got there. Bess coming through with the lawyering. Nice. Bess crashing and burning here. “If you do this to george I wont have to imagine it. George deserves to live.” NICK- FANSON- CRYING. CRYING. OMFG HE LOVES HER. NICK I LOVE YOU. FANSON. HUG HUG HUG SWEET CUTE WOW. tag yourself, I’m bess crying in the background.

Nancy and Ace- “says the guy dating his twin sister” HE GAVE HER HIS HOODIE. I AM JEALOUS NGL. I’m very immersed in this, don’t Judge me. NOT THE BANANA CREAM PIE, NANCY PLS. oh they’re holding hands???

Acemanda on the boardwalk, the writers are stealing my ideas, smh. See: The Dumpster Fire I Call Life (linked below) OMG “I only need one” THAT WAS VERY CUTE AND I HATE IT. PLS STOP. JEALOUSY. CUE MR. BRIGHTSIDE- TPAIN SANS LE T- WAIT A DAMN MINUTE. ITS HIS BROTHER?! DO I SMELL FRANK HARDY?

Sister’s Thoughts:

“Why is Ace dressed like a fifth grader?” (It was the blue jacket with the green zipper that made her think that lmao)

“I’m just me, without any secrets,” Carson said.

“Except for your secret boyfriend.” My sister is the number one Caryan shipper.

“Aw Nick is the ghost possessing your girlfriend bullying you? Poor muffin.”

DUMPSTER FIRE FIC LINK:

[stomachflu]

hey, remember like a year ago when i was like “maybe i’ll write a second part to the story of how lynn and reed met if i feel like it?” well i’ve been struggling with

and i thought that i’d write something Just For Me to get me back in the swing of things. 

VERY long stomach flu-oriented fic (planning for another few parts! this isn’t the last one!!), very self indulgent. warnings for mentions of scat, but nothing explicit. hope yall enjoy!

---

Lynn groaned as she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket, every muscle in her body aching as she twisted to grab it. It was nearly too much effort to switch the too-bright screen on, let alone read the message with watery eyes. The first one was, apparently, from an hour ago.

>Reed: hey did u make it back home ok

>Reed: lynn

>Reed: are you ok

Lynn closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool metal side of the bathroom stall. She’d traded numbers with Reed after they’d walked her to the clinic before heading to class, where she’d promised to text them that she was okay prior to receiving an official diagnosis of “godawful stomach flu” with the proposed cure of “wait it out, if you can’t keep water down after a few hours then come back for an IV“.

>Lynn: not rly

Her head swam and her hands were shaking, making it hard to compose a message. Reed was already typing a response to her last text.

>Lynn: my roommate’s apparently a germophobe? and she wont let me into the room unless I’m not gonna puke

>Lynn: so ive just been like camping out in the lounge & now I'm like chilling in the bathroom

>Lynn: not great but

She leaned back, exhaling shakily as the stall swam around her. Fuck. She was pretty sure that her fever was increasing as she leaned back over the toilet seat, holding her hair back with both hands as she gagged softly, opaque saliva falling from her lips. She couldn’t bring anything up still, despite the constant sloshing of her stomach being an ever-present reminder of how much there still was in there. When the wave of nausea finally passed, she had two new texts.

>Reed: >:o!

>Reed: youre in the new dorm right

>Lynn: whats up

>Reed: ok I know i’m just some rando you met today but if you wanna crash on my couch or smth its gotta be more comfy than the lounge at 4am

>Reed: i promise i’m not a serial killer tho

Lynn groaned as she stood up, limping out of the bathroom and ignoring the disgusted looks of girls at the sinks -- she’d been gagging in that stall for at least  twenty minutes -- only to find that some other couple had sat down on the couch she’d planned to sleep on. There were a few chairs, all hard wood, and she sat down in one of them as she wrote a response, trying hard to control her tears. She was just overemotional from fever, that was all. She hugged her stomach, rocking back and forth as she typed.

>Lynn: actually that would be great if that's ok w you

>Reed: great! ill be at yr dorm in like 15min, where should I meet you?

Lynn’s stomach lurched, and she ran out of the lounge again, falling to her knees for the fourth time that day. Just like every other time, she retched wetly, gagging and spitting wads of cloudy bile into the toilet, unable to bring up anything significant.

She managed to type out the word bathroom in-between heaves, and it seemed like no time had passed at all before there was a sharp knock on the door, then the creak of hinges opening.

“Lynn? You in there?” 

She could only groan, but managed to unlock the stall door and stumble towards Reed, who grabbed her arm immediately, supporting her. “Woah, you’re not lookin’ so hot.”

The two of them were getting some very dirty looks from the other occupants of the bathroom, so Lynn tried to stumble towards the door, unable to get very far without leaning on Reed. “Not... Not feeling so hot either,” she said, pressing her free hand to her stomach.

“No shit, you’re burning up.” Reed pressed a hand to Lynn’s forehead, pulling it back in mock shock. “My car’s just in the parking lot, do you think you can walk there?”

Lynn hummed, trying not to open her mouth. Reed let her lean against them as she stumbled down the hall. She braced herself for the chill of the cold November air as they walked outside, but with Reed’s arm around her, she barely felt the cold.

“I’m just down the street,” Reed said, guiding her to what was apparently their car, “but I figured you wouldn’t wanna walk.”

Lynn swallowed back bile. “At this point, I don’t even... I don’t even care if you’re a serial killer, I just wanna lie down.”

“I think we can make that work.” 

Holy shit, Reed was strong as hell, Lynn mused feverishly, leaning nearly all her weight on them as they transitioned her into the car with one fluid motion. They even buckled her seat belt for her, making some soft noise when she moaned in pain as the strap touched her stomach.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna head to urgent care?” Reed asked. “They might be better than the student health center, and you’re really not looking good.”

Lynn shook her head, a dizzying motion that took more energy than she had. “Nah... I just wanna rest.”

“If you say so.” There was that worried note in their voice again, and Lynn leaned her head against the seat as the car lurched into motion, and so did her stomach. “I think there’s some trash bags in the glove compartment if you need ‘em. I’ll try to drive safe, but this thing? Is kind of a beater. You should see what it’s like on ice, though.”

Lynn made a small noise of acknowledgment, wincing as they bumped over mounds of slush. Saliva pooled under her tongue, and she swallowed hard. Not here, she thought. God, please not in front of Reed. Her throat burned with acid, and she gripped her stomach tightly, one hand covering her mouth. Just as her tongue lifted with a strong gag, a plastic bag was shoved into her lap. Gratefully, she buried her head in it.

“You’re okay, just get it up,” she heard Reed say, and then, “Oh, god,” as hot, foamy bile splashed into the bag, followed by a series of gurgling burps. “You’re really not feeling well, huh?”

She shook her head miserably, spitting into the bag and eventually wiping away a thick strand of mucus on the edge of the plastic before twisting it shut in disgust. “God. No. My stomach hurts so bad.”

“Do you need to get out for a sec? Being in the car probably can’t help.”

“Maybe.” Her throat still felt tight, and she tried to force a burp as she fumbled with the car door, only to end up barely scrambling to undo her seatbelt in time as she retched again and again, mucus falling in a steaming pile in the snow. Stomach finally empty for now, she belched emptily, a cloud of condensation forming as she did so.

Lynn vaguely became aware that someone was rubbing her back, and when she turned, Reed was holding her steady. “Ready to go?” they asked.

Lynn scrubbed at her watering eyes. “Yeah, she said weakly as they helped her back into the car. “God, this must be so gross for you.”

Reed shrugged as they put the key in the ignition. “Eh. I’ve got a strong stomach. Not really easily grossed out, you know? Besides, you're sick, so it’s not like it’s your fault. Someone’s gotta help you”

---

She managed to make it to Reed’s apartment without vomiting, though they did have to pull over several times so that she could take deep breaths out of the open window. Their apartment was several flights up, and they’d grimaced before slinging an arm around her shoulders, supporting most of her weight without even asking. Lynn didn’t even bother to protest -- they practically carried her up the stairs, but all she could care about was the fact that they were warm against her freezing skin.

“Okay!” Reed said, fumbling with the keys. “It’s not much, but at least I have a couch.”

Their apartment was small and cramped. The door opened onto a living room of sorts, with two faded couches forming a L-shape across from a TV. A slightly torn rug sat underneath a coffee table piled high with books and takeout boxes, and Reed rushed to clear it off, leaving Lynn standing by the front door, weaving back and forth.

There was a wall with an entryway seperating what Lynn assumed to the the kitchen area to her right, with another door closer to the entryway. On the left wall, close to where the couch sat, was a second door that was partially open. From the mess inside, she could guess it was Reed’s bedroom.

“C’mon in,” Reed said, gesturing to the couch. “Um, sit down, maybe? You look like you’re gonna die. Do you have any -- God, your roommate really kicked you out with nothing, huh? I was gonna ask if you wanted to change into, like, pajamas or anything, but you don’t even have a coat on.”

“Um,” Lynn said, still hovering awkwardly. “Yeah. She really didn’t want me to infect her.”

“Cool, cool. She’s an asshole.”

“Um --”

“No worries, I probably have something that’ll fit you.” Lynn very much doubted that, given that Reed had a good foot on her. “Do you need anything else? Like, food, we should probably make sure that you eat at some point? And I think that I might have some fever reducers somewhere around here --”

Lynn’s stomach cramped harshly. “Um,” she interrupted them, a note of urgency in her voice. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?”

“’Course! It’s that door--” Reed pointed to the closed door near the entrance Lynn had noticed earlier. “-- right there. Um, do you need help?”

Her guts churned again, and she managed a wan grimace. “I think I’ll be okay.”

Much to Lynn’s relief, their bathroom was almost shockingly clean. Her stomach still felt sore and achy after she’d finished expelling its contents from the other end; her nausea was fading for now, but the tightness in her throat and gnawing feeling in her stomach told her that she was far from done with this illness. She stumbled out of the bathroom, rubbing her aching stomach and nearly tripped over a pile of clothes on the floor.

“Those are for you,” Reed called from somewhere in the depths of the apartment. “Try ‘em on!”

Lynn retreated back into the bathroom, yanking her shirt off. The sweatpants Reed had provided just fit if the drawstring was pulled all the way, and their hoodie was a very loose fit, but the fuzzy inside felt wonderful against her sore stomach.

She sank down onto the larger of the two couches, which Reed had lined with sheets and stacked blankets on while she was gone. She pulled one up to her shoulders as Reed emerged from the kitchen area, carrying a mug of something steaming in one hand and a thermometer in the other.

“Hey,” they said. “Do me a favor and open wide, ‘kay? You’re not looking too hot, and I wanna know how worried I should be.”

“’s just the flu,” Lynn said weakly, but allowed Reed to slip the thermometer under her tongue. It beeped an agonizing minute later, and Reed winced at the number.

“102.3. That’s... not good,” they said. “I think that you should really rethink urgent care.”

Lynn groaned. “’M fine, really. Just need to rest.”

“Okay,” Reed said. “That’s fine, but I’m gonna need you to drink something first, okay? We’re gonna need you to keep some fluids down if you don’t wanna land in the emergency room.”

“‘Kay.” Lynn accepted a sip of the mug that Reed pressed into her hands. It was some kind of green tea, and it actually tasted... pretty good? “Thanks,” she whispered, her throat sore from fever and vomiting.

“No prob, dude,” Reed said, taking the mug from her hands. “Get some rest, okay?”

Lynn nodded, already drifting off into sleep.

---

She was vaguely aware of being woken on and off through the next few hours, Reed coaxing her to sip ice water or take her temperature before letting her slip back into feverish dreams. When she finally fought her way back to consciousness, the room was dark. The digital clock glowing on the coffee table read 8pm. She’d texted Reed to get her at... what was it, 2?

Groggy, head spinning, Lynn sat up. She felt awful, overheated and sweaty. She could just make out the shape of Reed’s body around the corner at the kitchen table, the glow of their phone illuminating the outline of their face. As if on instinct, they turned to face her.

“Hey,” they said, scooting their chair back. “You okay if I turn some lights on?”

Lynn nodded, then, remembering that it was dark as shit, said, “Yeah, that’s fine.” 

“Cool.” They turned on a lamp beside the couch, sitting at the end, near her feet. “How’re ya feeling? Your fever is still pretty high, d’ya think you could keep down some soup?”

Food? Ugh. Lynn made a face, but Reed pressed on. “C’mon, you need something in your stomach. Like, not just water, but actual nutrition, or you’ll just get sicker.”

Her stomach felt vaguely queasy, but Lynn shrugged. “I’ll try.”

“Great! I’ll warm some up for you.”

She dozed as the microwave ran and then beeped, and then Reed helped her sit up against the pillows with the bowl of soup in her lap. Her stomach gurgled as she ate, but seemed to accept the first swallow, so she did her best. She’d managed about three-quarters of the bowl when her stomach gurgled ominously, and she set it down. 

“I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

“Okay, no problem,” Reed said. “Mind if I take your temperature again?”

Lynn shrugged noncommittally, and they whipped out the thermometer. She was glad when it beeped -- the whole time she was sitting up she’d been shaking with chills, and she quickly buried herself back under the blankets, swallowing a queasy burp.

They didn’t read out the temperature this time, just sighed. “If I leave you with some water, will you drink it? The most important thing right now is to keep hydrated.”

“Um. Sure.” Reed pushed forward a glass of water, and Lynn smiled shakily, but didn’t drink it. “I just don’t wanna puke again, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. You must feel awful,” Reed said, and Lynn laughed hoarsely.

“That’s an understatement.”

“I get it. But you gotta drink something. You’ll feel worse if you don’t.”

Lynn hesitantly picked up the glass -- it felt too heavy in her shaking hand -- and cautiously took a small sip, and then another. To distract herself from the uneasy feeling in her belly, she asked, “Can I ask a personal question?”

“That depends... how personal are we talking? ‘Cause if we’re gonna get in there with the questions, you gotta buy me dinner first.” Reed wiggled their eyebrows, and Lynn felt a warmth that had nothing to do with fever run down her spine.

“Um. Why are you doing this?”

“What, talking to you? ‘Cause I’m bored, and there’s nothing on TV. I mean, if you want me to shut up, I can?”

“No! Like, taking care of a sick stranger you’ve never met. Like, gross sick.”

“Eh.” Reed shoved their hands in their pockets, looking away. “It’s what I would’ve wanted someone to do for me.”

There might have been a story there, but Reed looked a little down, so Lynn decided not to press. “Well. In that case, thank you. It’s appreciated.” Her stomach gurgled again, going from uneasy to actively nauseous in half a second. “Shit -” she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth and throwing off the blankets.

Reed jumped up, maybe to help her, but she was already unsteadily standing, the cold air a shock to her system after staying under the blankets for so long. “Hmmmk!” she gagged, saliva flooding her mouth as she wobbled towards the bathroom as fast as her weak body would let her.

She didn’t make it.

Lynn was just in the threshold of the bathroom when her stomach lurched, squeezing as she heaved again, and she lost it, vomiting into her palm and all over the floor. The sink was closer than the toilet, so she lurched over to it, barely making it over the counter before undigested soup came flooding up her throat, forming a foaming mess in the basin. She heaved again, drawing in a ragged breath before she felt a large, calming hand on her shoulder.

“I’m so sorry!” she sobbed, tears running down her face. “I didn’t mean to -- I didn’t know I was gonna be sick, and I tried to get to the bathroom, I really tried --” 

“Hey,” Reed said. “Hey. Lynn. Dude. It’s okay. That was kind of my fault anyways.”

“It’s not! I puked all over your floor, and in your sink --” The liquid was slowly draining now, but chunks of undigested noodles and chicken and vegetables were clogging the drain. God, what had she done? "I’ll clean it up, I promise!”

“You don’t have to worry about that, I got it,” they said softly. “Don’t make yourself more upset, you’ll get --” They sighed a little as she burped over the basin again, bringing up a torrent of chunky liquid. “--Sick.”

“Sorry,” Lynn managed when she was done dry-heaving. All that would come up was airy burps.

“Again,” Reed said, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have forced you to eat or drink when you weren’t ready for it, and I definitely should’ve given you a trash can or something.” They shrugged. “Nothing that can’t be cleaned, so. Lesson learned.”

Reed guided Lynn over to sit on the closed toilet seat. “Sit here for me while I clean this up, okay? Just let me know if you start feeling bad again.”

Lynn took in a shaky breath. “Okay.”

Her stomach was cramping hard again, and she wrapped both arms around it, hunched over. Through a haze of fever, she watched as Reed, wearing a pair of dish gloves, scrubbed the sink and mopped the floor. Then, once the bathroom smelled of soap and disinfectant, they wet a washcloth with warm water and crouched down so they were eye level with her.

“Hey. I’m gonna clean you up a bit, okay?” Lynn nodded miserably, sweaty hair sticking to her face. She felt awful, shaking with chills and fever alternately, head swimming.

Reed gently wiped her face with the cloth, then her arms and hands. They re-folded it and rinsed it again, wringing it out and draping it against the back of her neck. She nearly gasped when it touched her skin. They’d used cool water this time, and it felt wonderful. 

“There we go,” they said. “I bet you’re probably wanting a toothbrush or some mouthwash.” 

God, she did feel gross. “Yeah,” Lynn croaked. “That’d be nice.”

“Cool, okay, good. Just stay here for a sec while I go grab some from the closet, okay?”

“Where else would I go?” Lynn’s eyes grew heavy. Sure, she had other places to go, but for now, she was glad to be right here.

[mrschangrettawrites]

Acquisitions

Summary: Every person has their purpose, and yours has just come up.

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

Words: 1692

Notes: FINALLY AN UPDATE AFTER SIX MONTHS FDKNGKDOFNGDKFNGOD god im so sorry it has taken this long to update but i've gotten a job since starting this fic and it's consumed much of my time, then the holidays were upon us and, well, yall know how it goes. but i got hit with inspo during my shift today so here it is! the long awaited fourth chapter! hopefully future updates wont be as delayed but who knows lmao. anyways thanks for waiting! minor tw for violence. Spoilers for season four, but it is v canon divergent so not really very many, reader is a WOC. I highly highly highly recommend installing the InteractiveFics extension from the Chrome store if you can. To add your name and last name simply install the extension, then click ‘Need to replace something other than Y/N?’ and in the value bar put Name and put your name in the Replace With bar, then click change! And be sure to tick Store this replacement so that you don’t have to do it every time.

Tagging: @kittiofdoom @justanothergal22 @sophspark @blinder-secrets @ree-duh @kamala-khaan if you would like to be tagged just lmk!

Just as the tension was getting to be almost too overwhelming, a waiter arrived with two menus, and you had never been so relieved to be served in your life.

“Thank you.” You said, smiling brightly as you took one and did your best to hide behind it under the guise of reading the dishes on offer. Thankfully there were pork free dishes on offer, which made you remember that you were going to have to educate Luca on Islam and it’s rules. Then you wondered if he would be as open and kind about there being another religion in his home as your father had been prior to his reversion. You guessed that Luca was Catholic, and while there were similarities between Catholicism and Islam, there were far more glaring differences.

“When we have our wedding,” you began hesitantly, “will it be in a church?”

“If I know my mother as well as I think I do, I doubt we’ll have a choice.” Luca joked. “Why?”

“Just checking!” You said quickly, going back to the menu. Even though there had not been a masjid in Small Heath, you had always dreamed of getting married in one. Your parents had to go all the way to London, so you figured that you would be able to do the same. Would New York have masjids? Would it have Muslims? Would it have Turkish Muslims?

“What's New York like?”

Luca paused, setting his menu down. “Well, for one, it’s a lot bigger than Small Heath.”

That made you smile. “I thought as much.”

“I don’t know, it’s just...hard to describe.” Luca drummed his fingers on the table, making your gaze flit down to his hand, and watch how elegantly it moved. “It’s full of life.” He said finally, his hand still again. “Everywhere you go there’s at least twelve dozen people around you, even at night it’s busy. Makes Small Heath look pretty sleepy in comparison.”

Your heart hammered in your chest as you considered this. Your mind ran wild with images of towering spires, roads that went on for kilometers, people dressed in all manner of ways. Your life had been a sheltered one, but that was all about to change.

A waiter soon arrived, asking for your orders.

“I’ll have the chicken Alfredo.” Luca said. He and the waiter both looked over at you, waiting for your order.

You began to panic as you had become too wrapped up in your thoughts to think of an order. “Oh um, make it two!” You said, inwardly wincing at how your voice raised at the end.

But the waiter made no indication of noticing, merely made a note of the orders and said that the kitchen would get right to it.

You looked back down at your teacup, eyes traveling over the lines, both dark and faint, trying to figure out what they were trying to tell you, if anything.

“Have you had much Italian food?” Luca asked, and you were grateful for the distraction.

“Not really.” You said. “Just Turkish and English food.”

“Well I can’t speak on Turkish food, but English stuff sucks.” Luca said bluntly.

A giggle slipped from you. “It can be pretty bland.” You agreed. “I mean, the English have an empire that spans the entire globe, with colonies that have incredible spices, but they never use them in cooking for some reason.” That would never cease to bamboozle you.

Luca grinned and chuckled. “I know Matteo can’t wait to be back in New York with proper food.”

You furrowed your brow. “Which one is he?”

Luca raised a brow, but pointed at a booth just a few meters away, where you recognised two of Luca’s men. “The one of the left is Matteo, and the other is Frederico.” He explained. “Matteo can be a little hot headed, but he’s loyal. Frederico is more quiet.” His gaze went back to you. “And they will both protect you.”

While the notion of being protected and watched by gangster was far from a new one, the gangsters in question were usually men you knew well. You glanced at them nervously. “So, they’re ok with this whole marriage thing.”

“That’s irrelevant.” Luca said dismissively. “They’re soldiers, and they’ll do what they’re told.”

You knew that was meant to put you at ease, but it didn’t work. They had orders yes, but orders have been ignored before. And you couldn’t help but wonder how they really felt about their leader marrying some girl from England, who belonged to a family that not a week ago they were planning to kill. You fisted the fabric of your dress that rested on your lap.

“W-Why me?” You asked quietly. You had managed to keep the question away from the front of your mind so far, but you needed to know. “Why would you choose me? If you were going to marry anyone, Ada would’ve been the smart choice. She’s Tommy’s sister, and she already has a son, she knows how to…” You trailed off, face burning. “Well, you know.” You cleared your throat. “Why are you marrying me?”

Luca was silent, his unreadable, impassive gaze slowly going over you. It made the hairs all over your body stand up, in fact your surprised that the hair on your head hadn’t all magically sprung to life. “I wanted to repay a debt.”

You furrowed your brow. “Debt? What debt? You don’t owe me anything.”

“It isn’t my debt.” Luca clarified. “It’s my mother’s.”

“Your...mother?”

He nodded. “She hasn’t forgotten, how you got her out of Small Heath.”

Oh. You looked back down, face flushing again. “I didn’t help your mum to have her in my debt.” You said, horrified that that’s what they, the Changretta’s and their people, all thought.

“I know.” Luca sounded calm, patient. “My mother said you weren’t that type. But you still got her out of Thomas’s path, and because of you she’s alive. I’m just repaying you. Now we’re even.”

You nodded, slowly, still not sure what to make of this reason, if it was in fact the truth.

If you were completely truthful, you hadn’t been thinking at all when you had gone to help Audrey Changretta. You just knew that her husband was dead, after hours of torture, and you knew that Tommy wouldn’t have thought twice to go after her. You still remembered that day, as if it had just happened.

While the early morning fog had still clung to your ankles, you raced to her home, heart hammering. You were terrified that you were too late or that she wasn’t home, but she was there, tired and a little disheveled, but there.

“You have to leave.” You had blurted out. “I’m so sorry. Tommy’s killed your husband and you have to go I’m so sorry I really am but you need to go please, please just go!”

It had taken you a few minutes to calm down and fully explain everything, but once you had, Mrs Changretta did as you asked. You even helped her pack, and kept an eye out for any Blinders. You went with her to the train station, all the while telling her how sorry you were. You were almost hysterical, and in tears by the time her train arrived. You thought that would be the last time you ever saw a Changretta.

When Tommy heard that Mrs Changretta was gone, he was livid. You had walked in on him yelling at John and Arthur, demanding that they go out and find her, leave no stone unturned, no person unquestioned. He was going to have his pound of flesh, one way or another.

“She’s gone.” Once again your mouth had moved faster than your brain could think, and you stared, wide eyed, as the three brothers and Polly all looked at you in shock.

“She’s what.” Tommy’s tone had been dripping with venom, and it sent a chill all through you.

“I’m sorry Tommy but I-I helped her leave.” You wilted a little, hunched over, equal parts ashamed and scared. “She didn’t do anything Tommy! She-”

You were cut off by the feel of skin colliding harshly against your cheek, sending you to the ground.

In a daze you looked up, to see Tommy being restrained by Arthur and John, while Polly screamed at him.

“YOU DON’T RAISE A HAND TO FAMILY LIKE THAT THOMAS!” You had never seen your aunt so furious, and it had only made your state worse.

“DON’T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!” Thomas roared, eyes alight with rage. “YOU BETRAY THIS FAMILY AGAIN AND YOU’RE OUT!”

You began to cry. “I-I’m sorry Tommy! I’m sorry!” You wept and begged for forgiveness, but that had only angered Tommy further.

“Should ship you to fucking Istanbul!” He snarled. He paused when a child’s cries began to echo in the house, making him look at the ceiling. “And you fucking woke up Charlie!” Tommy managed to shake off his two brothers, and he glared down at you before getting out a cigarette. “I mean it.” He said, in his low, quiet, dangerous voice. “If you ever pull that shit again, I’ll put you in a fucking crate myself.”

Even after Polly got you out of the house you were sobbing, still saying how sorry you were.

“Don’t be sorry sweetheart.” Polly had said gently. “You did a good thing.”

‘Did I?’

“How is your mother?” You asked, trying to ignore the memory of the stinging pain from Tommy’s slap.

“She’s alive, which is what matters.” Luca smiled gently. “Thank you. I mean that. My mother is all I have left now.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “I would do it again.” You said, only realizing how true it was once all the words had left your mouth.

“Two chicken Alfredos.” The waiter had reappeared, carrying the dishes on a silver platter and laying them out in front of the both of you.

“Grazie.”

“Thank you so much.”

The waiter nodded before moving onto another table.

“Still can’t believe you people don’t tip.” Luca said, sounding genuinely mistified.

“What’s a tip?”

[anderfels]

I wanna see ur take on reyes/scott growing old together ;)

'tis i! isaiah, back with whatever i was able to write down on the hellscape of google docs. 

title: growth

pairing: yall know by now 

a/n: once again im not sure if this is what u wanted??? #ITried also!! i feel like i should set a warning for death mentions in the notes at the end (not in the fic itself, thank god). once again on mobile. once again with lapslock.

a few weeks after meridian, scott introduces reyes to sara. reyes gets the usual ‘hurt him and i hurt you’ speech. when he’s out of earshot, sara tells scott that she had her reserved about reyes, but she thinks she can warm up to him. scott then gets a nice little pat on the back. 

5 years after meridian, scott proposes to reyes. he plops right down on his knee in the kitchen of their shared apartment and opens the ring box. they aren’t even out of their pyjamas yet.

“you look ridiculous down there, ryder,” reyes laughs. “get up. i’ll marry you.”

“you will?” scott sounds positively giddy.

“did you think i would reject you?” reyes doesn’t get answer. he does, however, receive an armful of a smiling scott ryder.

(scott later explains that he didn’t plan to propose in the kitchen, but it just felt right at that time.)

6 years after meridian, scott and reyes have a small ceremony. sara, the tempest crew, and keema are there. “you look like you’re waiting for someone,” scott whispers to reyes as he reaches the altar.

reyes gets cake on his suit when they cut it, and scott puts some on his own so that they match. reyes isn’t sure how he got so lucky.

10 years after meridian, scott lands himself in the hospital after a particularly risky stunt during a mission, injuring him in a way not even sam could help him with. reyes is almost always there with bloodshot eyes and bags under his eyes. he falls asleep once, holding scott’s hand.

“don’t do that again,” reyes mutters as he presses scott’s knuckles to his lips.

“no promises,” scott chuckles.

13 years after meridian, scott asks reyes something. “do you ever think about our first date?” he crosses his legs as he sits on the bed, absently cutting out pictures that they took on their trip to aya.

“the one where we stole whiskey from sloane and drank it on the rooftops?” reyes looks up from the datapad in his hands. “sometimes, yes. why?”

“want to recreate it?” scott lays down his scissors.

“...why not. let’s go.”

15 years after meridian, scott tells reyes that they found someone to replace him. god, he can’t wait. let the young ones deal with this.

“you’re only 37,” reyes says.

“i feel more like i’m 67,” scott replies as he massages his temples. reyes supposes he can’t argue with that. with the shit that scott has been through and seen… that’s enough to age anyone a few decades. even if it doesn’t show physically, it’s there mentally.  

16 years after meridian, reyes and scott celebrate their 10th wedding anniversary in the form of a ton of kisses and one bottle of shared champagne. 

27 years after meridian, scott can finally, finally catch his breath. there’s no ‘going away’ party. it’s just him, reyes, and a metric screwton of rocky road ice cream. they spend the night watching bad movies and snuggling away in bed.

33 years after meridian, scott sees a sliver of white at reyes’s temples. “god, you’re old,” scott teases as he pokes at it.

“you’re not exactly a spring chicken yourself, scott,” reyes shoots back. he’s smiling, though. a genuine one.

“oh, leave me alone.” scott matches reyes's smile.

40 years after meridian, they’re lying on a bed, cuddling together as if no time has passed. “i can hear you thinking from here,” reyes says.

“yeah, thinking about how great you are.”

“even as old as i am?” reyes jokes.

“like fine wine, you get better with age.” scott hides his laughter as he hears reyes groan.

scott isn’t sure what the future holds, but right now? right now, it’s perfect. 

( ok, so, fun fact, i wanted this to originally end with like

"xx years after meridian, scott ryder dies.

xx years after scott, reyes follows"

but then i remembered that the life expectancy for humans in the m.e. universe is 150 years and i just. cant write that much so. thanks to them you wont get any of that ):

i also wanted them to get a dog which scott names chewbacca cause he's big and brown and fluffy but then i realized there would have to be a scene where the dog dies and i Dont Want That

also does anyone know when pathfinders """retire""" cause i feel like i made scott retire too early but hhhhh artistic liberties??? )