luv4writing

21 she/her final destination fan | this is a main blog but I do have some side blogs you might have interacted with

[soapyywritesz]

I write for fem!reader, male!reader, gn!reader

Fluff , Angst , Smut , Hurt/Comfort , Dead Dove If something does not fall under the examples just ask and I consider whether I do it or not.

I only write for the final destination franchise

I will always keep my works with the warnings so that everyone knows what they are about to read.

PLEASE READ!

Please read ➡️ THIS ⬅️

REQUEST ARE CLOSED 🛹

MASTERLIST

[soapyywritesz]

baby ur soooo weird kys

No ty unless you want to do it together?

Anyways new Alex dunphy x female reader fic coming out tomorrow

[soapyywritesz]

shut the fuck up weirdo

No ty 😘

[soapyywritesz]

Writing for modern family now

[auddion]

This is a perfect example on how tagging is supposed to be. Not spam tagging every single person that’s in the show. Thank you @mrsmckay for the amazing example.

[mattymartin]

2026 U.S. Figure Skating Championship ↳ 🥇 Amber Glenn, 🥈 Alysa Liu, and 🥉 Isabeau Levito Make the U.S. Olympic Team

[soapyywritesz]

Lately, I’ve been thinking about expanding this blog into a multi-fandom space. I’ll always have a place here for the Final Destination movies—they mean a lot to me—but I’ve noticed my interest in the franchise shifting a bit. At the same time, I’ve been consuming a lot more media whenever I’m bored, and it’s naturally pulled me toward other fandoms that I’m starting to feel inspired to write for as well.

I’ll be taking things slowly, but you can expect to start seeing content for other fandoms alongside my usual posts. I want this space to reflect what I’m genuinely excited about, and right now that includes exploring new characters, stories, and ideas.

I also want to be honest for a moment—sometimes I do feel pretty lonely. I don’t have many friends or people I can spend time with outside of my family, so I often turn to media and writing to fill that space. I know that might not always be the healthiest habit, but creating and sharing content here has really helped me more than I can fully put into words.

Every single interaction—whether it’s a like, a reblog, or a comment—means so much to me. It genuinely makes my day and has a positive impact on my mental health. I’m incredibly grateful for everyone who has supported my work, even in the smallest ways.

Over the next few days, I’ll be reworking my pinned post, updating my links and masterlist, and organizing things to make the blog easier to navigate. I’m also planning to create a Google Form where you can sign up to be tagged in posts—whether that’s for specific characters, certain fandoms, or every fic I publish.

Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my writing. It truly means everything 🤍

[soapyywritesz]

I'm thinking of doing a Alysa liu x female hockey player reader and this mostly takes place during the winter olympics and it will be 30 chapters with slow burn yuri romance please lmk your thoughts

[soapyywritesz]

Hi! Do you still make things about Final Destination? Could you do one about Billy? Feel free to choose :3

Yes I still write for the final destination franchise I haven't watched in months so I can forget what happened (for the most part) and revive how I felt when watching it for the first time ❤️

So I'm off school today so I will write a fic for billy and I'll tag you when it's out

[forever-flying-silver]

Okay but I can see Mel and Trinity falling in love so easily, hear me out.

Mel who is quiet and literal, listens intently and sincerely, and gives good advice. She really wants to connect with people, and never considered a life beyond her sisters needs until recently. She finds she actually wants one. She cares so much, is deeply sensitive and incredibly loyal. She wants something real in her life, something that is hers, makes her happy.

Trinity who was just told by her current ongoing hookup person that her feelings aren’t worth her time and she’s nothing more than sex. She is loud and abrasive but has the biggest heart. She is fiercely protective by nature, and a caretaker at her core. She’s got crazy trauma and feels totally alone in the world but just realized she (unfortunately) wants to matter to someone.

Trinity being protective of Mel because she’s not afraid of a fight and Mel won’t stand up for herself.

Mel taking Trinitys drama trauma seriously and making her feel seen and heard.

Trinity breaking down all the gossip at work because Mel missed the social dynamics.

Mel actually being around consistently and Trinity starting to feel safe.

Trinity is sharp and bitter but Mel just runs her fingers through her hair and lets her rant.

Mel is used to caring for Becca in every aspect of life but suddenly Trinity makes breakfast and checks her forehead for a fever and keeps her favorite snacks stocked and has her comfort door dash order waiting when she gets home after a bad day.

Mel feeling insecure and Trinity pushes her up the wall and kisses her senseless.

Mel needs clarity (and lets be honest Trinity does too). Mel’s literalness pushing Trinity to express her feelings and both of them talking about boundaries.

Both of them having crazy deep wells of hurt and grief and loss and neither of them had anyone to talk about it with before.

Trinity recognizing when Mel is getting overwhelmed and Mel recognizing when Trinity is getting triggered.

Dude im falling off the deep end with this shit holy moly

[limeskye]

Will Trent - Title Cards - Season 3

[Season 1] [Season 2] [Season 3] [Season 4]

[soapyywritesz]

TW: MENTIONS OF SH PROBABLY SOME OTHER STUFF PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS WHEN READY

Enjoy 💙

The fluorescent lights of The Pitt buzzed overhead as Trinity Santos pushed through the doors of the break room, her scrubs rumpled from a long shift. It was late—past midnight—and the ER had finally quieted down after a chaotic rush of patients. She was looking for a quick coffee before heading home, but what she found instead stopped her in her tracks.

Y/n y/l/n sat hunched over at the small table in the corner, sleeves pushed up to her elbows, staring blankly at a half-empty cup of water. Trinity's eyes narrowed as she noticed the fresh bandages wrapped around y/n's wrists, peeking out from under the edges of her uniform. The air felt heavier suddenly, and Trinity's usual sharp wit faded into concern. She'd seen y/n around the hospital for months now—a fellow nurse, quiet but reliable, always with a soft smile that hid something deeper. They'd shared shifts, late-night chats, and even a few stolen moments of laughter amid the chaos. But this? This was different.

:readmore:

'Y/n?' Trinity's voice was gentle, not her typical teasing lilt. She approached slowly, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her. Y/n startled, yanking her sleeves down too quickly, but the damage was done. Her eyes darted away, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and fear.

'I—it's nothing, Trinity. Just a rough day.' Y/n's voice cracked, and she forced a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Trinity wasn't buying it. She reached across the table, her hand hovering before lightly touching y/n's arm—not grabbing, just a reassuring presence. 'Hey, talk to me. Those aren't from an IV gone wrong. I've seen enough in this place to know the difference.' Her tone was steady, laced with the empathy she'd honed from years in the ER, dealing with patients' hidden pains.

Y/n's shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her. Tears welled up, and she whispered, 'It's... it's been bad lately. The stress, the nights I can't sleep, the feeling like I'm drowning. I didn't mean for anyone to see.' The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, as if saying them aloud made them real.

Trinity's heart ached. She stood up, rounding the table to pull y/n into a hug—careful, enveloping, like wrapping someone in a warm blanket. Y/n stiffened at first, then melted into it, her face burying against Trinity's shoulder. 'You're not alone in this, okay? Not here, not with me.' Trinity murmured, her hand rubbing slow circles on y/n's back. 'I've been through my own storms—fights with colleagues, that mess with Garcia, the rumors that never stop. But hurting yourself? That's not the way out. You deserve better than that.'

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, though it was only minutes. Trinity didn't push for details; she just held space, letting y/n's sobs quiet into shaky breaths. When y/n finally pulled back, Trinity cupped her face gently, thumbs brushing away tears. 'We're getting you help. There's a counselor on staff—Dr. Patel, remember? She helped me after that whistleblower crap. And I'll be right there with you, every step. Shifts, coffee runs, whatever you need.'

Y/n nodded, a flicker of hope breaking through the haze. 'Thank you, Trinity. I... I don't know what I'd do without you.'

Trinity smiled softly, squeezing her hand. 'You won't have to find out. Come on, let's get out of here. My place has better coffee, and we can talk more—or not. Your call.' As they stood, arms linked, the weight on y/n's chest felt a little lighter, the darkness pierced by the steady light of someone who cared.

[soapyywritesz]

Guys is it wrong to have so many shows started but even less actually finished....

[soapyywritesz]

Title: Borrowed Time

Fandom: Final Destination

Pairing: Alex Browning × Female Reader

Summary: You and Alex think you’ve finally figured out how to stop Death’s design—but in the world you’re trapped in, nothing is ever that simple… and every solution comes with a cost.

It wasn’t hope.

Not really.

It was desperation dressed up as logic.

You could see it in Alex Browning’s eyes as he spread the photos across the table—crime scenes, timelines, scribbled arrows connecting one death to the next.

“They’re dying in order,” he said, voice tight. “The exact order they would’ve died on the plane.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself. “We already know that, Alex.”

“No—listen,” he insisted, stepping closer. “If Death has a design, then it has rules. And if it has rules… it can be interrupted.”

Interrupted.

Not stopped.

Not beaten.

You swallowed. “Like before… with Carter.”

Alex nodded quickly. “Yeah. When Carter almost died—when I pulled him off the tracks—it skipped him. It went to the next person.”

A pause.

Then realization hit you both at the same time.

“You don’t beat it,” you whispered.

“You delay it,” he finished.

---

The plan felt wrong.

But everything about this felt wrong.

“If it comes for you,” Alex said, pacing, “then I stop it. That should push Death past you—buy you time.”

“And then it comes back later,” you said quietly.

His jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

Silence.

“You’re asking me to almost die, Alex.”

“I’m asking you to trust me,” he shot back, then immediately softened. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear.”

That was the problem.

You believed him.

---

You felt it before you saw it.

That shift in the air. That invisible pressure pressing down on your chest.

Death was close.

“Alex…” you breathed.

“I see it,” he said, scanning the room.

Kitchen.

Too many variables.

Too many ways to die.

The stove clicked softly behind you.

A faint hiss.

Gas.

Your stomach dropped.

“Don’t move,” Alex said, voice suddenly sharp.

But something already had.

A dish near the edge of the counter trembled… then slipped.

It shattered on the floor.

You flinched—just enough to step back—

Right into the oven handle.

The door dropped open.

Heat blasted against your legs.

“Y/N!” Alex lunged forward, grabbing you before you could fall—

At the exact moment the overhead light sparked violently.

Glass exploded downward.

Right where your head had been.

Everything stopped.

The chain reaction—broken.

For now.

You clutched his shirt, shaking. “Did… did it work?”

Alex looked around, breathing hard.

Nothing moved.

No more shifting shadows.

No creeping sense of something lining up.

“I think…” he said slowly, “it skipped you.”

Relief hit you so fast it almost hurt.

---

But it didn’t last.

Because Alex didn’t let go of you.

And when you looked up at him, there was no victory in his expression.

Only dread.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely there.

He hesitated.

Then said it anyway.

“It skipped you…” he repeated. “Which means…”

Your stomach dropped.

“It’s next in line,” you finished.

Alex nodded.

“And after that…” you said, voice shaking, “it comes back around.”

“Yeah.”

No escape.

No winning.

Just time.

Borrowed time.

---

You squeezed his hand tighter. “Then we keep doing it.”

His eyes snapped to yours. “What?”

“We keep interrupting it,” you said, more firmly now. “Every time it comes—we fight it. We push it back again and again.”

“Y/N, that’s not a solution—that’s—”

“It’s survival,” you cut in.

A long pause.

Then, quieter: “I’m not just going to sit around waiting for it to take you.”

That broke something in him.

You saw it.

The fear he’d been holding in finally slipping through.

“I almost lost you,” he admitted, voice rough. “Back there… I thought—”

“You didn’t,” you said softly.

“But I will,” he whispered. “If we’re not careful… I will.”

Your chest tightened.

So you did the only thing that made sense in a world that didn’t.

You stepped closer.

Rested your forehead against his.

“Then don’t let it happen,” you murmured.

For a second, neither of you moved.

Then his hand came up, hesitant at first, resting against your cheek like you might disappear if he held on too tight.

“You’re really staying in this with me?” he asked.

You let out a small, shaky laugh. “Kind of hard to walk away from Death’s hit list.”

That earned the smallest smile from him.

But it didn’t reach his eyes.

Because you both knew the truth.

You hadn’t broken the curse.

You hadn’t beaten Death.

You’d just—

Made it wait.

[thepittsera]

Trinity listen to me she could and she would treat you right please Trinity listen to-

[soapyywritesz]

Could you make a fluff fic about early morning cuddling with Ian McKinley please just pure fluff

The early morning light slipped quietly through the curtains, soft and golden, painting everything in a warm glow. It was the kind of morning that felt still—like the world hadn’t quite decided to wake up yet.

And neither had you.

You were half-asleep, curled up under the blankets, when you felt it—an arm tightening around your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

Ian.

Ian McKinley let out a quiet, sleepy sigh behind you, his face buried in the back of your shoulder. His grip wasn’t tight, just enough to keep you there, like even in his sleep he knew exactly where you were supposed to be.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled, voice rough with sleep.

You smiled softly, eyes still closed. “I wasn’t.”

“Mm… good.”

His hand shifted slightly, fingers brushing against your arm in a slow, absentminded motion. It wasn’t rushed or intentional—just soft, lazy touches like he was grounding himself.

The kind that made your chest feel warm.

You turned just enough to face him, careful not to break the moment. His hair was a mess, falling into his eyes, and he looked nothing like the sarcastic, sharp-edged version of himself everyone else saw.

Right now, he was just… soft.

“You’re staring,” he muttered, eyes still closed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re not even awake.”

“Don’t need to be.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, reaching up to push his hair out of his face. He leaned into the touch immediately, like it was instinct.

That made your heart do something stupid.

“Go back to sleep,” you whispered.

He shook his head slightly, finally cracking one eye open to look at you. “Nah. This is better.”

Before you could respond, he pulled you closer—if that was even possible—tucking your head under his chin. His hand slid up your back, slow and comforting, drawing soft patterns that didn’t really mean anything except I’m here.

The silence stretched again, but it wasn’t awkward. It was full. Warm.

Safe.

“You’re staying, right?” he asked after a minute, quieter this time. Not teasing. Not sarcastic.

Just real.

You nodded against him. “Yeah. I’m staying.”

He exhaled, tension you hadn’t even noticed easing out of him. His chin rested lightly on your head as his grip relaxed—but he didn’t let go.

Not completely.

“Good,” he murmured. “Would’ve been a terrible morning without you.”

You smiled into his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Outside, the world was starting to wake up.

But neither of you moved.

And honestly?

There was nowhere else either of you would rather be.

[writingdose]

I am once again begging people to realize that AI checker doesn’t work. it’s never worked. it’s notoriously known to have flagged human-made works as AI and AI-generated works as human-made. and by feeding it people’s works, you are feeding more works to AI, because apparently the machine itself is AI.

the only thing AI checker does is harm genuine artists and people in general too.