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[writingsformuse]

Rising Waters

SUMMARY: Being the sherriff’s daughter has its ups and downs. Up: free rides after your car has broken down during torrential downpours. Down: this ride happens to be Deputy Jordan Parrish, leading to a new development.

WORD COUNT: 2,707 words

AUTHOR: Lydia

NOTES: none :) and you might spot some s.f.fitz lines because my friend send me a lot of quotes from his writings and it kind of influenced this piece (and there is much more after this but I don’t think I’ll be posting it…)

(Y/n) growls under her breath, kicking the back tire hard as rain comes down harder. Her Jeep just gave up on her after a very late night round of lacrosse practice at the school, and with a massive storm heading to the town, she can’t imagine how she’ll get home.

A car horn grabs her attention and she turns around, shielding her eyes from the downpour as a deputy’s car pulls up. The passenger window is rolled down to reveal Parrish, and she let’s out a relieved sigh.

“Need a ride?” he calls out as thunder shakes the ground. She nods and grabs her backpack from the keep, quickly climbing into the front seat of the SUV.

“You are my favorite person right now,” she says as she sighs again. Parrish chuckles and pulls out of the school parking lot, turning left towards (y/n)’s house.

“What happened to the Jeep?” he asks, and she looks at him.

“It’s one of the oldest prices of crap on the road,” she tells him. “I guess the engine finally quit on me.” He chuckles but stops as he sees the street in front of him.

“Shit,” he hisses, and (y/n) looks through the torrential rain. The streets are flooded, the water rising quick. “All the other roads are blocked to your house.”

“Damn,” she hisses, and he backs up to continue going straight before the water can reach his car. “What now?”

“The station is bare staffed right now,” he explains. “Your father went home hours ago, and from what I hear, your brother is home.”

(Y/n) sighs and leans back, shivering in the wet clothes. Parrish looks over and frowns.

“You’ll stay with me until the rain quits,” he says, turning right.

“Are you sure?” she asks, putting her arms around herself for warmth.

“Yeah, I’ll call your dad when we get to my place,” he says with a nod. He looks to her and she gives him a grateful smile, one he makes sure to return.

They pull into his apartment complex just a few minutes later and the water is up to the middle of the lifted tires. (Y/n) grips her bag and they give a nod to each other, sprinting out of the car and up the stairs. They laughs loudly, almost over the sound of the thunder, and Parrish opens his apartment door.

(y/n) drops her bag and they take off their soaked shoes as he shuts and locks the door. She looks at him, his clothes soaked like her and hair messy, and she can’t help but laugh.

“What?” Parrish asks, running his hands through his hair. “You should see yourself.” She laughs harder and he grins. “Come in, I’ve got some clothes you can change into.”

He leads her to his bedroom and as they walk through his apartment, she realizes how cluttered it is. Bullets and wires lie on the tables, books on the floor in pikes up to her knees. But the organized chaos feels welcoming to her, and she smiles a little.

“Here,” he says, tossing her a BCPD shirt, one long enough to go mid thigh on her. She nods and he points to the bathroom. “I’ll find a pair of shorts-”

“This should be fine,” she tells him, figuring the shirt could double as a dress. “Thanks.” She walks into the bathroom and changes out of the wet clothes quickly, hating the feeling of the cold fabric on her skin. She sets her clothes on the edge of the bathtub and runs her fingers through her hair. She slides the shirt on and it goes just a few inches below her waist, enough to cover her to where she’s comfortable with it.

She opens the bathroom door and sees Parrish is still changing in the bedroom. He has his shirt off but a pair of sweatpants on, his hair disheveled as he slides a shirt on. (Y/n) can’t seem to do anything but stare, until she snaps herself out of the daze and walks out to him.

“See?” she shows him. “Basically a dress.” He laughs, grabbing his phone.

“I better call your dad now,” he says and she nods as they walk to the living room. They sit on the couch and (y/n) picks up some stray bullets, rolling them around in her hand.

“Hey Stilinski,” Parrish says, grabbing her attention. “(Y/n)’s Jeep broke down and all the roads to your house were blocked, so she’s with me until it clears up.” (Y/n) can’t hear what her father says. She lies down, putting her legs on his lap and resting her head on the pillow. Parrish laughs at her, pulling her legs closer.

“Yes sir, I’m taking the couch,” he says, and (y/n) sits up.

“No, I am,” she tries to shout into the phone, but Parrish playfully pushes her back down. She scrunches her nose, a look he happens to adore on her, and crosses her arms.

Parrish hangs up the phone and looks to her. “I’m taking the couch,” he repeats slowly as he stands, and she stands with him.

“That’s not fair!” she argues. “This is your place, not mine-”

“You’re the guest, and just so happened to be sheriff’s daughter,” he says, looking down at her as he steps closer. “No way in hell I’m not taking the couch.”

She groans in frustration, falling back onto the couch and crossing her arms as she lies down. “Not if I fall asleep first,” she says with an involuntary yawn, grabbing the blanket at her feet and covering up.

“Why are you so stubborn?” he mumbles, turning the lights off. She smiles at him as he walks to his bedroom, where he climbs under the covers but makes sure to keep the door open. The sound of thunder echoes through the apartment and not before long, (y/n) ends up falling asleep on the couch.

Parrish waits about half an hour, making sure she really is asleep, and walks back out to the living room. He slides his arms under her legs and back carefully, her head naturally resting on his chest. He carries her into the bedroom and he sets her down on the bed, covering her up with a victorious grin.

“Damn you, Jordan,” she growls lowly, burying her face into the pillow. He just laughs and walks back out to the couch, taking his spot and covering up.

Not even five minutes pass before (y/n) shuffles out to him, lightning the only thing guiding her to the couch. She takes his hand and pulls him up, making him frown as she drags him to the bedroom. She climbs under the covers and continues to pull him, and he laughs as he’s forced to lie under the covers.

“There,” she says, putting her face into a pillow and keeping only a few inches of room between them on the large bed. “We both win.” He laughs covers her up more. He takes his shirt off and sets it next to him, and they both fall asleep to the sound of the storms.

~~

She doesn’t know if it was the thunder that shook the apartment that woke her, or the flashes of lightning, but she wakes as the clock on the nightstand reads 2:17.

She frowns and sits up, looking over to Parrish. She catches a glimpse of his face as lightning strikes outside. It’s riddled with pain and he grips the sheets with white knuckles. He tosses and turns, and she realizes he’s having a nightmare.

“Jordan,” she whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder. He growls under his breath, still asleep, and she shakes his arm. “Jordan, you need to wake up,” she says a little louder. Lightning strikes and a roll of thunder hits the apartment, making him sit up with wide eyes and involuntarily grab her wrist tight.

“Jordan!” she shouts and he quickly releases her hand, panting as he looks at her.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, running a hand down his face. (Y/n) ignores the dull pain in her wrist and scoots to him, placing a light hand on his cheek.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asks quietly, and he closes his eyes, letting her hand support him. She frowns, pulling him into a hug. “Want to tell me what that was about?” she asks, running a hand up and down his bare back. He shakes his head and grips her shirt in his fists, burying his face in her neck. She frowns more, nodding.

She lies down, pulling him with her so that his head lies on her chest. He wraps his arms around her tight, like she’s the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment. He lies on top of her and it doesn’t bother her, his weight and shape almost fitting to her body. She runs a hand through his hair and she can feel his laboured breaths, his chest struggling to stay steady.

“Do these happen often?” she asks.

“Every night,” he whispers into her shirt. “Ever since the army, mission gone wrong.” She purses her lips, finally realizing it’s PTSD that haunts his mind.

“When was the last time you got real sleep?”

“Before I was deployed,” he answers, and she squeezes her eyes shut. She swears she can feel his pain, like it’s radiating to her, and she wants to cry knowing he’s in pain.

“Sleep,” she whispers, pulling the covers over him to his shoulders. She runs a hand through his hair still and he holds her like she’s his anchor during a storm at sea. “Just sleep.” He closes his eyes and focuses on her heartbeat, and soon, he’s asleep in a dreamless state for once.

~~

Parrish wakes first, the sunlight and absence of rain causing him to rise. He blinks his eyes open and looks down at (y/n), who lies asleep in his arms now. She has her face in his bare chest, one hand lying on his chest and another wrapped around him. One hand of his lies on her hip, another on her back under her shirt.

He lies his head down on the pillow and watches her, taking in how peaceful she looks and how right this feels. He realizes then that he wouldn’t mind waking up like this every morning, with her in his arms and him holding her this close. He realizes that she keeps him calm at night, and that that was the first dreamless sleep he had gotten since years ago before the army. He realizes he needs her, and he pulls her closer as he does.

(Y/n) shifts, nuzzling her face into his shoulder as she drapes a leg over his. He holds back a chuckle and buries his face in her hair, taking in the scent of rain and dew.

She blinks her eyes open, her lips accidentally on his collarbone. She closes her eyes again, leaving her lips where they are, and Parrish runs his hands up her back to pull her even closer.

She likes this, she admits to herself. She likes how he has her so close and how his rough hands are somehow so soft on her hip and back. She doesn’t mind her shirt is rose up, because she realizes just how much she trusts him. She loves how he’s like a heater, and he loves how she’s as cold as ice, and how they seem to balance each other out is beyond reason to anyone in the world.

Both awake now, yet dazed by each other’s touch, remain still and in embrace for the longest time, neither wanting to move away. But the sharp ring of his cellphone on the nightstand pulls them to reality, and he sighs as it rings aloud.

“Are you going to get that?” she asks, her lips tracing his collarbone as she does.

“It can wait,” he mumbles.

(Y/n) just nods and soon the ringing stops, allowing them to close their eyes and relax their bodies to fit like puzzle pieces.

Someone knocks on the front door and both shoot up, eyes wide as they look at each other. Knocking echoes the apartment again and Parrish rushes out of bed, slipping his shirt on and covering her up.

“Pretend you’re asleep!” he hisses, and she throws herself onto the pillow and tries to look at peaceful and possible.

Parrish looks at the couch and nods as he sees it looks like he slept there, and he opens the door as he brushes a hand through his hair. It’s Stiles, an annoyed look on his face as he pushes himself into the apartment. Parrish just stares at him.

“I’m here to pick my sis up,” he tells him, looking around. “Do you believe in cleaning up, or is that just against your beliefs?” Parrish rolls his eyes and Stiles walks to the bedroom, Parrish chasing after him.

Stiles walks in, crossing his arms when he sees his twin. “I know you’re awake,” he says in a bored tone, but she stays still. Stiles sighs and jumps on the bed, Parrish laughing as (y/n) curses under her breath.

“Hey, you two didn’t fool around, did you?” Stiles asks, and (y/n) kicks him off the bed. “Ouch, okay, I’ll take that as a no…” Stiles stands up, brushing his shirt off. “Dad got the Jeep into the shop, he told me to come get you.” She groans as she sits up, running her fingers through her knotted hair.

“Whatever,” she hisses. Parrish watches her with crossed arms and Stiles looks back and forth between them.

“Are you two sure you didn’t-” (Y/n) throws a pillow at him, making him stumble back as he laughs and throws it back at her. “I’ll be out in the car,” he calls out as he leaves, the front door slamming shut.

(Y/n) moans as she stretches, standing up and popping her back. She pulls Parrish back to the bed and he laughs as they lie down, Serilda laying on top of him.

“You slept the rest of the night,” she mutters into his chest, and his hands trace up her body and under her shirt. She smiles into his shirt as his hands wraps around her sides, big enough to hold her easily.

“You’re brother is waiting outside,” he whispers into her hair and she groans, sitting up and straddling him. She puts her hands on his chest and his find their way to her hips again. He looks up at her as she pulls her hair into a messy bun, and he can’t help but fall in love with every freckle she has that paints her cheeks.

“You’re staring,” she says, and he grins.

“How could I not?” She smiles wide, biting her cheek as she tries to look away. Parrish sits up, keeping her on his lap, and kisses her softly. He was chilled by the innocence of her kiss and how her lips locked with his, how her hands pulled his face closer to her and pulled him deeper into the kiss. He realizes he loves her, and that this was the beginning and ending to everything they know.

Stiles honks outside and they pause, (y/n) leaning back but keeping her eyes locked on his. She kisses him once more, and it feels like the longest kiss in the shortest seconds. She pulls back and climbs out of bed, running to the bathroom and shoving her clothes into her bag, Parrish watching her the whole time. She looks back at him as she leaves the bedroom, and she pauses for a moment.

“You know where to find me if you can’t sleep,” she says with a small smile. And with that, she leaves, and Parrish is left by himself to sort out his love sick mind.

[writingsformuse]

Hello how are you? I just wanted to let you know that your blog is amazing and the imagines too!😊 And to know if you are accepting some request?

hey, thank you so much!!!! send in any requests hun

-lydia

[writingsformuse]

good headcanon: aziraphale definitely caused the crusades on accident, but crowley took credit to help the angel keep his good conscious.

[writingsformuse]

So Be It (part ii)

SUMMARY: (Crowley x Reader series) 

You turned her head to glare at the demon next to you. A newer face, but familiar somehow. He stands tall with his shoulders back, looking in the same direction you had been gazing at moments ago. What struck you most were his pitch black wings, a standing contrast between the angel’s white wings and your own brown ones. His feathers looked soft, but they seemed burned at the edges.

Oh, right- you think- the fall.

WORD COUNT: 1373 words

AUTHOR: Lydia

NOTES: here ya go! enjoy, and feedback/reblogs are loved dearly. message me if you wanna be put on the tag list!

part i

It was the seventh day of the world, and you were growing rather tired of the view ahead of you. Sand, blown by wind and shaped into haphazard dunes for miles upon miles upon miles. As to why anyone would put an oasis of a garden here was beyond the celestial being, but that must be part of God’s “ineffable plan” the angel in white next to you continues to muse over. This angel, so pure and built to God’s image perfectly, but you could sense an ounce of speculation in his heart.

Good, you’d think when you’d notice him think for himself. Be you.

Your eyes focused on the two humans walking. It hurt your heart, watching those two first humans be forced from Eden. Your heart ached, not for their punishment, but for the trickery- the warping of free will for an agenda evil. Or maybe, more than Hell’s doing, you were more upset with God Herself for placing a forbidden tree in the center of a luscious garden with no way of stopping a new creature with free will.

Yes, that you were made about. Temptation, from both sides. 

More than most, you were aggravated at yourself for not catching the serpent on time. The serpent, a demon no doubt, gliding across the Garden floor growth to the fate of humanity. You were upset you weren’t around to remind Adam and Eve they could make (and should make) their own choices for their own good.

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon.” 

You turned her head to glare at the demon next to you. A newer face, but familiar somehow. He stands tall with his shoulders back, looking in the same direction you had been gazing at moments ago. His hair, long and red and tucked into curls, was blown behind him gently by a wind coming from the east. The most peculiar of all was the stark resemblance of the snake he had just formed from; the serpent that tainted the Garden of Eden, you recognized. His eyes were slated down the middle, a jaundiced yellow around the black crevice. Snakes adorned his face under his sideburn, and you found it amusing. What struck you most were his pitch black wings, a standing contrast between the angel’s white wings and your own brown ones. His feathers looked soft, but they seemed burned at the edges.

Oh, right- you think- the fall.

“Sorry, what was that?” the angel, Aziraphale, asks. He, too, watches the humans in worry. You found it humorous the immediate difference between him and the demon- two sides of two very distant coins. You were somewhere in the middle- you were the middle.

“I said, ‘Well, that went down like a lead balloon,’” the demon repeated. You still stare at him as he looks past you to the angel.

“Yes, yes, it did, rather.” Aziraphale’s voice is laced with concern, and it’s rubbing off on you. Your eyes travel back to Adam and Eve.

“Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me.” The angel looks at the demon with a side eye. “First offence and everything.” You understood though, you would almost say you agreed. “I can't see what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway.” You furrowed your eyebrows at that, thinking about the fallen’s words.

“It’s not about knowing the difference, it’s about falling for temptation to act upon a side.” Your first words aloud grab the demon’s attention, and he cocks his head ever so slightly as he looks at you. Studying, you would say, but he looks away before you can pin the look.

“Well, it must be bad…” the angel started.

“Crawley,” the demon informs him.

“-Crawley. Otherwise you wouldn't have tempted them into it.”

“Oh, they just said, ‘Get up there and make some trouble,’” he says nonchalantly, and you chuckle shortly. 

“Well, obviously. You're a demon.” The nerve of the angel, you swear. “It's what you do.”

“Not very subtle of the Almighty, though,” Crawley begins. “Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a ‘Don't Touch’ sign. I mean, why not put it on the top of a high mountain? Or on the moon? Makes you wonder what God's really planning.” You avert your gaze back to him, and he’s already looking at you. Studying, indefinitely, you decide. He knows you agrees.

No wonder this one fell, you think.

“Best not to speculate. It's all part of the Great Plan.” Aziraphale, in every way, looked like he was trying to convince himself the same. “It's not for us to understand, it's ineffable.” And he looked mighty proud of using that word to a new person.

“The Great Plan's ineffable?” Crawley asks. Now he was studying his angelic counterpart who still has not made direct eye contact.

“Exactly. It is beyond understanding and incapable of being put into words.”

“Awfully funny was of having a plan if you can’t share it,” you mumbled, and Aziraphale shot you a look of caution. “Oh, I’m down here for a reason-”

“Didn't you have a flaming sword?” Crawley asks, and you look to Aziraphale. 

“He did,” you muttered, scanning the garden.

“It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?” Aziraphale releases a soft “uh” and you chuckle again. “Lost it already, have you?”

“Gave it away,” you informed him.

“You what?” the demon gasps. 

“I gave it away!” Aziraphale says, standing his ground. “There are vicious animals, it's going to be cold out there, and she's expecting already.” Again, trying to convince himself.

“And heavenly said, ‘Here you go, flaming sword. Don't thank me!’” you half-mocked.

“‘And don't let the sun go down on you here,’" he added, and you nod to confirm the tale. “I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing.”

“Oh, you're an angel,” Crawley whole-mocked. “I don't think you can do the wrong thing.” In your mind, you ask as always, what makes wrong so wrong? But it’s a question for another time, a question for possibly other entities rather than the ones on each side of you.

“Oh, oh, thank you,” the angel stammers. “Oh, thank you. It's been bothering me.”

A lion roars across the dunes, and you gaze to the beast in front of the humans. You shifted your footing, watching anxiously. The flaming sword in the man’s hands adds strength to the felt fear, and you frowned deeply. Oh, how badly you wanted to go and help them.

“I've been worrying, too.” You look to the demon on your left at the sound of concern in his voice. “What if I did the right thing with the whole ‘eat the apple’ business? A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing.” What makes right so right?

More importantly, you thought, Is this free will speaking? But you pushed the thought down, saving it for a day long away.

The man lands a fatal blow to the lion’s neck, and it falls heavily. You relax your shoulders, shifting back to your previous stance. 

“It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh? If I did the good thing and you did the bad one.” Both chuckle at the demon’s words, but you remain silent. Both of you could do what you want, not what you think home office will want.

Aziraphale stops laughing as soon as he realizes the implications of consequence behind the joke. “No, it wouldn't be funny at all.”

Suddenly, thunder sounds over the dunes behind Paradise. You flinched, and quickly look at the demon beside you. You raised your wings, one over Aziraphale and one over Crawley, more worried about whether or not what’s about to fall is holy water, worried if this being next to you might singe and wither at the slightest raindrop. 

The rain falls softly onto your wings, and it feels adequately normal. But you kept your wings high, both of the men comfortable under the shelter and you fine with the rain. Crawley looks above him at your cinnamon-colored wing. He gazes at you, eyebrows furrowed, and nods. You release a soft smile, and look out over the dunes yet again at the humans.

[writingsformuse]

So Be It (pt. i)

SUMMARY: (Crowley x Reader series) 

Send me down, let me wander. Let me be their guardian.

Guardian, God thought. So be it.

WORD COUNT: 685 words

AUTHOR: Lydia

NOTES: again, sorry for the extended hiatus! this is the intro, 3rd POV, and I’ll be posting part two shortly. enjoy, and know that feedback and reblogs mean the world to an author!! (message me if you would like to be tagged in this series)

Eternity was, indeed, a long time. The word sounds short, and the meaning sounds fake, but living it in holiness makes eternity last forever.

Heaven is as the saints make it out to be: pure. The Promise Land is white and bright and unaltered from God’s image, formed after the birth of the first white star. Heaven was not hot, though rather chilly. Coats were made of fresh atoms and stayed pristine forever (or so Samandriel claimed when he handed them out). The air was fresh, and by fresh that means empty. Heaven was a vacuum of sorts, no impurities allowed of any kind, even in the form of carbon dioxide. Heaven was safe, Heaven was holy, Heaven was clean.

But somehow, along the line of eternity, free will slipped into the air. Some celestial beings, dubbed angels, got a whiff and let it take over. The first was Lucifer. The creation of a lesser form, the humans, angered the archangel and many below him. Full of wrath, him and his followers stormed the gates to destroy what had been made. God caught wind rather quick, and they fell. Fell is a nicer word for the experience of having your wings plucked from your back and being kicked to Hell from Heaven above, catching fire and landing at impeccable speeds into the underworld. No wonder the demons are always mad. 

Among the Rebellion were the popular kids: Lucifer, Hastur, Beezlebub, Crawley (who claims it was all a matter of “hanging with the wrong crowd”), Aleister, and many more. Hundreds of angels kicked from home in a fiery descent on the second day of the world surely left a mark on God’s temper. 

What happened next surely didn’t help.

A curious, free-thinking angel named (Y/N), the angel of the Fourth Day (as called by her quieter descent), approached God Herself alone. This free will she had experienced through angels that had fallen, it was something to be given to the humans, she knew of it. God asked why, and (Y/N) answered simply because they deserve to be their own beings. She was the first and the only to survive standing up to God. 

How will the will be maintained, with those new evils lurking in Hell? asked Almighty.

Send me down, (Y/N) offered. 

Dismiss you? Have you fall?

No, not fall. Let me wander.

No longer an angel, you’ll be.

So be it. Let me be their guardian.

Guardian, God thought. So be it.

On the fourth day, (Y/N) was sent down to join the first two humans, Adam and Eve. She was to foster free will, thwart evil and good alike so that the humans’ actions and choices will be their own, so that they will be their own beings. Being sent down meant changing, but not getting wings ripped or eyes distorted. Her wings, once pure white, now the color of the dirt that dressed Earth, and her body immune to the weapons of Heaven (holy water) and Hell (hell fire). 

She was her own being, the middle ground. She was mostly human. She was free.

Her first day on Earth was spent in the Garden. She greeted Adam and Eve with glee, the humans happy to see a new face. She introduced herself, introduced the concept of choosing, of being in charge of your own actions, introduced the vague and subjective ideas of good versus evil. They spoke until the sun went down, and with a heavy heart, (Y/N) stood.

This will be the last time we speak, she informed them. Your actions are yours to choose. I will be here for you, forever, dare you need me. You are your own being.

Adam and Eve, rather upset with losing their one friend, agreed on her departure. And as she left the walls of Eden to wander the planet, to be herself.

Until she met an angel and a demon who would, one day, quite literally derail God’s oh so Divine Plan. But that was the future, and this now. Day four of 6,000 years, and (Y/N) was on her own side.

part ii

[writingsformuse]

7/20/2018 MASTERLIST

From most recent to oldest by fandom, enjoy! MASTERLIST PAGE

STAR TREK

Wrenches & Doctors (Bones x Reader) by Lydia: Life on the USS Enterprise can be a rush when you fill in for engineering all the time. What’s even more exciting is when Doctor Bones is on board, and you somehow manage to get the concussion of the century thanks to a game of chase with Scotty over a wrench (2507 words: cursing, injury)

Sad Eyes  (Bones x Reader) by Lydia: You��ve gotten so used to Bones’ sarcastic wit and unfiltered speech. When you join him for lunch to find him sorrowful and untalkative, you make it your personal mission for the day to find out what the issue is (905 words: mention of death)

Scientific Fact  (Bones x Reader) by Alice: The reader has always been self-conscious of her body, but maybe it takes a cute, sarcastic doctor to show her who she really is (651: body image)

Pristine (Kirk x Reader) by Lydia: It’s quiet at night on the USS Enterprise, and you aren’t too sure what woke you. But as you stumble to the bridge and find a lost captain in his chair, you think that maybe it was space calling you home (1117 words: none)

Case of the Kirk (Kirk x Reader) by Lydia: Being a doctor in medbay four on the USS Enterprise was never a bore. From smashed fingers in engineering to chemical burns from the blue-shirt scientists, the most amusing patient was always James Kirk. And today, he topped the charts after a stupid race against the young Russin whiz-kid (1693: injury)

Exploring Words  (Bones x OC) by Lydia: Shore leave on a new planet is an exciting thing for an explorer. But when Bones feels like enjoying the words of a classic book, Aria goes a little crazy (but he always knows how to calm her down and compromise) (1285 words: none) 

Over Time PART ONE (1267 words), PART TWO (1180 words) (Bones x Reader) by Alice: after discovering (but not identifying) an unknown disease in a deceased enemy, things become troublesome for you and Leonard "Bones" McCoy in more way than imaginable (slight injury)

Memento Mori  (Bones x Reader) by Lydia: “It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things.” (719 words: death, angst... I am so sorry)

Echo Lake PART ONE (491 words), PART TWO (1481 words)  (Bones x Reader) by Lydia: With a new planet near the USS Enterprise and the possibilities of new discoveries, who wouldn’t want to travel to the unknown world? If only someone would’ve have told you and Bones what you were getting into before, then maybe you wouldn’t be stuck with hard decisions away from the Enterprise and with the fate of a whole community in your hands (none)

(I wish, I wish)  (Bones x Reader) by Lydia: A portion of a series of letters from Leonard “Bones” McCoy (779 words: angsty)

Third Time’s a Charm  (Bones x Reader) by Lydia: As the physical exam day aboard the USS Enterprise rolls around, you find yourself in a rather precarious situation when three of the top-ranking officers in your medbay all ask the same schoolyard question: is there someone on board you like? (1526 words: none) 

Seeing You  (Bones x Reader) by Lydia: As a sleepless night takes over your mind, you decide to roam the halls. But when you bump into a certain doctor and end up at the bar, things happen and stuff is said (how vague lmao) (1512 words: drinking, swearing)

Five Years Long  (Bones x Reader) by Lydia: After the events of Star Trek: Into Darkness, you made a strong vow to keep your feet planted on solid ground. But when your beloved is called on a mission for half a decade, the vow waivers beneath your heavy heart (1711 words: none)

Concern (Spock x Reader) by Alice: song I’m Listening to- Sweet Dreams by BORNS & Prompt- “Do it, I dare you” (1100 words: none)

MARVEL

Night Surprises (Steve Rogers x Reader) by Lydia: A peaceful night alone is just a dream in a world with Captain America. And just when you thought you might have a peaceful night, a knock on the door wakes you from that dream. What you weren’t expecting to find was a bloodied and beaten Steve Rogers (968 words: cursing, injury)

I Always Will (Bucky Barnes x reader) by Alice: short and sweet Bucky Barnes drabble (400 words: none)

Beacon of Hell (Steve Rogers x Reader) by Alice: Captain America drabble, cute as usual (504 words: none)

Placing Bets (Steve Rogers x Reader) by Lydia: As Captain America and yourself walk into the kitchen to get some coffee after “a long night,” you become bombarded by the rest of the team (994 words: clueing towards sex lmao grow up)

DC COMICS

Stern Reminder (Bruce Wayne x Reader) by Lydia:

PART ONE (1815 words): Knowing Bruce Wayne as Batman is hard enough, but loving him is a task on its own. With his life on the line at every mission, you tend to forget yours is too. That is, until a sore reminder is spoken and Bruce slips up (injury)

PART TWO (2340 words): After the feeble threat of a few mercs, Bruce can’t seem to shake the feeling of dread and loss. Little does he know he has every right to feel this way, especially with the events that unfold soon (torture, injuries)

This Isn’t Love (Bruce Wayne x Reader) by Lydia: “What’s his name?” he would ask, and a shy smile would cross your lips. “Oh, that’s not important.” Maybe you feared what Bruce would do. Maybe you feared what the man would do (479 words: mentions of abuse/injury)

Snow Days (Bruce Wayne x Reader) by Lydia: Snow in Gotham City is rare, yet beautiful… (592 words: rare fluff, enjoy)

TEEN WOLF

Breaking the Chains (Brett Talbot x Reader) by Lydia: After a mutual breakup with Brett Talbot, things have been rocky. And as his first full moon away from you appears in the sky, he seems to lose control and the McCall pack calls for your help to calm him down (1254 words: none)

Rising Waters (Jordan Parrish x Reader) by Lydia: Being the sheriff's daughter has its ups and downs. Up: free rides after your car has broken down during torrential downpours. Down: this ride happens to be Deputy Jordan Parrish, leading to a new development (2707 words: none)

THE WALKING DEAD

Car Complaints (Daryl Dixon x Reader) by Lydia:  Everyone knows you and Daryl Dixon avoid each other, his southern attitude of knowing everything driving you away. And you’re fine with it like that, until Rick send you both out on a run that goes downhill quickly (4421 words: injury, cursing... holy shit this is long lmfao)

Caring and Outcasted (Daryl Dixon x Reader) by Lydia: Daryl Dixon can’t stop thinking of himself as an outcast and a tool to be used at the advantage of others. You can’t stop thinking of him as a fool who just cares too much (862 words: mention of injury, cursing)

SUPERNATURAL

Calm, Perhaps (Dean Winchester x Reader) by Lydia: To her, Dean Winchester is nothing short of art, and she loves to watch over him. But as a mission goes wrong as she becomes captured, the hunter finally realizes the importance of her eyes that trace his skin (1814 words: injuries, torture/abuse not from the character)

The First Time (Sam Winchester x Reader) by Alice: Song Listening To- The Times They Are A-Changin’ by Bob Dylan (1308 words: none)

RIVERDALE

Leather (Sweet Pea x OC) by Lydia: the only times the Serpents and Ghoulies meet are in three ways: street races, gang fights, or in the hallways of Southside High. Surprisingly, there’s a new face in town, and they grab the attention of a certain gang (PLAYLIST)

Part One (136 words), Part Two (257 words), Part Three (228 words), Part Four (556 words), Part Five (224 words)

[writingsformuse]

Leather Masterpost

AS OF 7/20/2018, (Sweet Pea x Reader)

PLAYLIST

Part One (136 words)

Part Two (257 words)

Part Three (228 words)

Part Four (556 words)

Part Five (224 words)

[writingsformuse]

send in requests! (-lydia)

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ TWILIGHT ZONE / SEASON ONE ( 01.31 – 01.36 ) always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

“Occupation, being in love.”

“Not just in love, but madly, passionately, illogically, miserably, all-consumingly in love.”

“I couldn’t bear to see anybody. I’m a mess.”

“You’ve got to stop this, you’re acting like a baby.”

“Why don’t you take a flying jump at the moon?”

“Stop skulking around.”

“You certainly need something –– you look feverish.”

“I offer him practically anything, and all he wants is her.”

“You disappoint me.”

“I’m in love with her, but she’s not in love with me.”

“She’ll forgive you and love you just the same.”

“I don’t think you’re making any sense at all.”

“It’s why I’m such a lonely man.”

“If anybody gets hurt, it’ll be you.”

“If this works, I’ll be the happiest man in the world.”

“You are acting like a clod.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

“Thank you very much for the flowers and the champagne, now goodbye.”

“I don’t love you. I don’t even like you at the moment.”

“Perhaps I am being cruel.”

“Did I disturb you by asking if I was disturbing you?”

“I thought you’d like to hear how things turned out.”

“Is there such a thing as being loved too much?”

“Love can be as sticky as a vat of molasses.”

“His life is full of impossible things.”

“You got the crummy end of the stick.”

“I’m sad, I’m nothing.”

“Do you happen to have a light?”

“I’m just plain old deceased.”

“For the first time, I was successful at something.”

“I’m not the kind of guy you would notice.”

“Wanna blow this awhile?”

“How come you know who I am?”

“I’m not dead and neither are you.”

“I never won a beauty contest.”

“Somewhere along the line, I forgot all the good things.”

“Take what you get and live with it.”

“That’s an exceptional talent –– don’t waste it.”

“Life can be rich and full of beauty, if a person would only pause to look.”

“His tastes lean toward stuffed animals.”

“He’s accident-prone, and a little vague.”

“Without him, his warmth and kindness, the world would be a poorer place.”

“Your eccentricities are beyond understanding.”

“This is the sixth job I’ve lost this year.”

“It was the only job I ever held for more than six months.”

“Have you ever just had one of those days?”

“Here’s the way the cookie crumbles.”

“Go away and haunt somebody else.”

“Now what is it that you really want?”

“I lost my job today, and my car, and I was evicted.”

“He believes in a magic all his own.”

“May I show you something?”

“I’m not accustomed to such service.”

“Odds are she’ll find it, better odds are she’ll find something else.”

“It’s quite distinctive-looking, I think.”

“I don’t want to make a big thing about this.”

“You’ll forgive me, but that’s really none of your business.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Who do you think you’re fooling?”

“You’re acting like a silly child.”

“It makes you wonder how normal we are.”

“What you’re looking at is a ghost.”

“It houses nothing but memories.”

“That’s the enemy out there.”

“I feel like togetherness.”

“I didn’t have it in me to do that.”

“You really should be working, you know.”

“You’re nagging me.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting you.”

“I just want to come in and kiss you.”

“I think I may be suffering from hallucinations.”

“A man of your great and extraordinary taste couldn’t possibly be interested in such a drab, ugly little creature.”

“I understand that you’re trying to change the subject.”

“I feel so inadequate compared with you.”

“I’m gonna live all by myself in peace and harmony.”

“Do you think you’re frightening me?”

“Why not just leave well enough alone?”

[writingsformuse]

10 Questions Every Fic Writer Secretly Wants to be Asked

There are a lot of fic questions that float around online, but rarely do they ever ask specific questions about the fics themselves. Ask any writer one or more of these ten questions to learn more about the fic and show support.

1. Of the fics you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

2. Which scene was your favorite to write in [title of fic]?

3. Which part of [title] was hardest to write?

4. If you could change anything in [title], what would it be?

5. Did you make an outline for [title]? Did you stick to it?

6. Which scenes did you cut, and which were added in [title]?

7. Who was your favorite character to write in [title]?

8. Which came first, the title or the fic?

9. Which idea came to you first in [title]?

10. What are some facts readers may not know about [title]?

[writingsformuse]

Fanfiction Work-In-Progress Guessing Game

Send me a word, if it’s in my wip document I’ll answer your ask with the sentence that it appears in

[writingsformuse]

five word prompts

[inspired by this]

“actually… i just miss you.”

“alright, i’ll leave you alone.”

“and slowly… i was forgotten.”

“and then everything just disappears.”

“and where do i go?”

“anyone could tell from here.”

“are you finishing that or…?”

“are you stupid or stupid?”

“anything, just call me, okay?”

“bitch better have my money.”

“bro… that’s so… not cool…”

“but did you do it?”

“call me now. it’s urgent.”

“can’t you listen to me?”

“cross that. don’t answer that.”

“don’t even think about it.”

“don’t you dare walk away.”

“do it. i dare you.”

“did you think i forgot?”

“eventually… you just move on.”

“even if you still do.”

“everything will fall into place.”

“fight me, you attractive stranger.”

“for once, i need you.”

“for once… i was right.”

“for once… i was wrong.”

“forget i even asked you.”

“forget it. you fucking suck.”

“fuck’s sake, what’s your problem?”

“fuck off. i mean it.”

“give and take. that’s life.”

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.”

“have you lost your mind?”

“hello? it’s me. i was-”

“hey… that wasn’t so nice.”

“here’s a glass of whatever.”

“how about a hug, hm?”

“how about you make me?”

“i haven’t forgot you yet.”

“i can’t be around you.”

“i don’t need you, really.”

“i don’t need this now.”

“is this your first time?”

“it’s just a cut, really.”

“it wasn’t me, i swear!”

“i said i love you.”

“just don’t fuck it up.”

"just… come back alive, okay?”

“just make sure you’ve eaten.”

“kick his ass for me.”

“killed him? wait, what, literally?”

“life really sucks. feel better.”

“letting go hurts… a lot.”

“let me live, will you?”

“no, i don’t need you.”

“nothing can hurt me now.”

“nothing matters anymore to me.”

“okay it was me… so?”

“people lie all the time.”

“pipe the fuck down, asshole.”

“please, you can’t die now.”

“please don’t leave me alone.”

“quiet. they can hear us.”

“quick! give me your phone!”

“quicker, you freaking piece of-”

“quit it or i’ll bite.”

“quit staring! they’ll notice us!”

"really? do i look stupid?”

“real smooth, tripping over air.”

“rise and shine, sweet thing.”

“rise and fucking shine, motherfucker.”

“seriously? give me a break.”

“so… what are we now?”

“so… did you miss me?”

“so… can we go eat?”

“so… when’s the next flight?”

“so… how did everything go?”

“sometimes, i wish you died.”

“so what? you did it.”

“time passes slower without you.”

“then what do you suggest?”

“the fuck? who are you?”

“then you tell me why.”

“this is not working out.”

“this isn’t what i wanted.”

“this is all a fucking disaster.”

“when did it all happen?”

“who knew you’d be here?”

“why do i even bother?”

“why do i love you?”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“you’re just… so, so stupid.”

“you can’t be here now.”

“you look like an accident.”

“you really need to go.”

“you know who to call.”

"zero fucks given. next please.”

[writingsformuse]

Master List

These are in order from when they are posted. I will keep this update with each new post. 

* means it was featured in a fic week

-Sam

Bucky x Reader

Kick Drum*

Jump In*

Let’s Drive*

Hold Still*

Something I Can Believe*

More Than Ever(I’m Ready, Are You? Part 2)*

My Sometime is Now*

I’m Not Pretending

I’m Ready, Are You?

Six (Soulmate AU)

Heaven

Please

Devil Like Me (Singer!Bucky AU)

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Actually…

Are You Mad?

What the Hell

Man Child

Drabbles

Tease (Bucky x Reader)

Don’t You Dare (Seb x Reader)

[writingsformuse]

Halsey’s “A Story Like Mine” from the 2018 Women’s March

It’s 2009 and I’m 14 and I’m crying. Not really sure where I am but I’m holding the hand of my best friend Sam in the waiting room of a Planned Parenthood. The air is sterile and clean, and the walls are that not gray, but green, and the lights are so bright they could burn a hole through the seam of my jeans. My phone is buzzing in the pocket; my mom is asking me if I remembered my keys ‘cause she’s closing the door and she needs to lock it. But I can’t tell my mom where I’ve gone, I can’t tell anyone at all. You see, my best friend Sam was raped by a man that we knew 'cause he worked in the after-school program, and he held her down with her textbook beside her and he covered her mouth and he came inside her. So now I’m with Sam, at the place with a plan, waiting for the results of a medical exam, and she’s praying she doesn’t need an abortion, (she couldn’t afford it). And her parents would, like, totally kill her.

It’s 2002 and my family just moved and the only people I know are my mom’s friend- Sue- and her son. He’s got a case of Matchbox cars and he says that he’ll teach me to play the guitar if I just keep quiet, and the stairwell beside apartment 1245 will haunt me in my sleep for as long as I am alive. And I’m too young to know why it aches in my thighs, but I must lie, I must lie.

It’s 2012 and I’m dating a guy and I sleep in his bed and I just learned how to drive, and he’s older than me and he drinks whiskey neat and he’s paying for everything- this adult thing is not cheap. We’ve been fighting a lot, almost 10 times a week, and he wants to have sex, and I just want to sleep. He says I can’t say no to him, this much I owe to him. He buys my dinner, so I have to blow him. He’s taken to forcing me down on my knees, and I’m confused 'cause he’s hurting me while he says “please”. And he’s only a man, and these things he just needs. He’s my boyfriend, so why am I filled with unease?

It’s 2017 and I live like a queen, and I’ve followed damn near every one of my dreams. I’m invincible and I’m so fucking naive. I believe I’m protected 'cause I live on a screen- nobody would dare act that way around me. I’ve earned my protection, eternally clean. Until a man that I trust gets his hands in my pants. But I don’t want none of that, I just wanted to dance, and I wake up the next morning like I’m in a trance and there’s blood. Is that my blood? 

Hold on a minute… You see I’ve worked every day since I was 18. I’ve toured everywhere from Japan to Mar-a-Lago, I even went on stage that night in Chicago when I was having a miscarriage. I mean, I pied the piper, I put on a diaper, and sang out my spleen to a room full of teens. What do you mean this happened to me? You can’t put your hands on me. You don’t know what my body has been through. I’m supposed to be safe now, I earned it.

It’s 2018 and I’ve realized nobody is safe long as she is alive, and every friend that I know has a story like mine, and the world tells me we should take it as a compliment. But then heroes like Ashley and Simone and Gabby, McKayla and Gaga, Rosario, Aly remind me this is the beginning, it is not the finale. And that’s why we’re here, and that’s why we rally. It’s Olympians and a medical resident and not one fucking word from the man who is President. It’s about closed doors and secrets and legs and stilettos from the Hollywood hills to the projects in ghettos, when babies are ripped from the arms of teen mothers and child brides cry globally under the covers who don’t have a voice on the magazine covers. They tell us “take cover,” but we are not free until all of us are free.

So love your neighbor, please treat her kindly. Ask her story and then shut up and listen. Black, Asian, poor, wealthy, trans, cis, Muslim, Christian. Listen, listen and then yell at the top of your lungs! Be a voice for all those who have prisoner tongues, for the people who had to grow up way too young. There is work to be done, there are songs to be sung.

Lord knows there’s a war to be won.

[writingsformuse]

Our most popular: 994 notes... and just over 80 reblogs. Barely enough to even keep me (Lydia) writing sometimes lmao. Seriously, recognition by simply sharing means so much. Thank you to all that do that.

“i really liked your post!”

Thanks How About You Reblog It :)

[writingsformuse]

Send me a character and for the character with the most hits, I'll write a paragraph for EVERY NUMBER on the list :) my xmas present to you all ♥️ (lydia)

One Hundred Ways to Say ‘I Love You’

“Pull over.  Let me drive for awhile.”

“It reminded me of you.”

“No, no, it’s my treat.”

“Come here.  Let me fix it.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Have a good day at work.”

“I dreamt about you last night.”

“Take my seat.”

“I saved a piece for you.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You can have half.”

“Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Can I have this dance?”

“I made your favourite.”

“It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Watch your step.”

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel better.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“You can borrow mine.”

“You might like this.”

“It’s not heavy.  I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Just because.”

“Look both ways.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Try some.”

“Drive safely.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“One more chapter.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“That’s okay, I bought two.”

“After you.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I like your laugh.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I made this for you.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Is this okay?”

“I picked these for you.”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“What do you want to watch?”

“You can go first.”

“Did you get my letter?”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“Are you sure?”

“Have fun.”

“Sit down, I’ll get it.”

“I made reservations.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It brings out your eyes.”

“There is enough room for both of us.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Wow.”

“Happy birthday.”

“I’ll pick it up after work.”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“It’s two sugars, right?”

“I’ll help you study.”

“Stay over.”

“I did the dishes.”

“You didn’t have to ask.”

“I bought you a ticket.”

“You’re warm.”

“No reason.”

“I’ll meet you halfway.”

“Take mine.”

“We can share.”

“I was just thinking about you.”

“I want you to have this.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Do you want to come too?”

“I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

“Is your seatbelt on?”

“Sweet dreams.”

“I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Stay there.  I’m coming to get you.”

“The key is under the mat.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re important too.”

“I saved you a seat.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“I noticed.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I believe in you.”

“You can do it.”

“Good luck.”

“I brought you an umbrella.”

“I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“Be careful.”

  And…

  100.  “I love you.”

[writingsformuse]

hey could you do a part 2 to that fic 'over time'??

Up and running! “Losing Time” is the title of this part

[writingsformuse]

hey there! really enjoying your work =) anxious about Overtime Part II ! keep the good work

Currently up! Look for a fic called “Losing Time!”