#julie writes
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here's to all writers who want to finish NaNoWriMo but who don't feel like writing today (myself included)
#nanowrimo#i just don't wanna write today man but i wanna make progress on my story#but not write#you know#julie writes#writer blog#writers on tumblr#writing#writing community#writeblr#writerblr#sci fi
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stay by your side every night
post-4x11, but in a fix-it 'verse where Elizabeth never got taken by the replicators. established john/elizabeth -- just a soft little hurt/comfort epilogue to that wonderfully whumpy episode. (assumes Elizabeth took Woolsey's place in the episode plot)
John finds Elizabeth in the makeshift control room as soon as he makes it off the Traveler ship. She’s leaning against the wall, listening to Zelenka’s account of the conditions aboard the cobbled together vessel. Even in the flickering emergency lighting, John can tell from the hand pressed to her forehead that she’s probably having a night even worse than his.
“Radek,” she sighs, “my czech is rusty on a good day, if you can’t get your point across in one language, can we switch to polish, maybe?”
“Tell her later, Radek,” John interrupts. “Elizabeth, Jen needs you in the infirmary.”
He takes her arm, but she goes willingly. “Are Rodney and Daniel okay?”
“They are, but you’re not,” John mutters. “I want you to get checked out.”
“We were never hurt, John,” she sighs, “only stunned. And besides, we both know I have the least to worry about in that regard.”
“Sure,” he agrees sarcastically, “so, you could walk in a straight line right now? If I let go of you?”
She shakes her head. “It’s just a headache. I guess a self-repairing system doesn’t make me immune to dehydration.”
John leans over and kisses her hair before guiding them down the hallway again. “Humor me, sweetheart. Let Jen stick you in a scanner real quick.”
“Only if Daniel and Rodney are out of the woods.”
“Deal.” He squeezes her hip where his hand has settled.
Jen is on his side when he gets there. “Oh, Rodney’s fine, and with Doctor Jackson it’s just a waiting game,” she says. “Elizabeth, go ahead and lie down in the main scanner, will you? While that’s running I’d like to change your bandages, John.”
Elizabeth scowls as she turns to him. “Bandages?”
“Just a few shrapnel scrapes,” he mutters. “You get looked at, I get looked at, yeah?”
He takes off his jacket and shirt, wincing as the bandages and cuts pull with his movements. This is always the worst part of a mission, the coming down, when all of the pain and fear settles in and he has nothing to distract himself. And Keller isn’t super gentle un-taping the gauze, either.
She’s running a stinging rinse over his wounds when her tablet beeps. “Oh… well, no wonder you’re not feeling well, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth slips out of the scanner. “God. Do I even want to hear it?”
“It’s not a huge deal, all things considered,” Jen assures them. “Your nanites must’ve been affected by the wraith stunner-- makes sense, since they’re electric, even if you’re the source of their electricity. I’m sure when they do their thing and replenish themselves, you’ll feel much better. But I’m guessing that could take twelve to twenty-four hours.”
John reaches out to take Elizabeth’s hand. “I guess you’ll just have to sleep it off.”
She nods, her eyes flicking over him in a distracted manner. “You’re one to talk… John, your back…” her fingers brush over his sensitive skin, but Jen clears her throat.
“Doctor Weir, please don’t touch any of the area I’m disinfecting. None of his wounds are deep, but I’m worried about infection if I don’t clean them properly.”
“Sorry, Jen,” Elizabeth murmurs. John hisses as the doctor douses him again. Elizabeth’s frown deepens. “You got pretty roughed up, huh?”
Her worrying over him is exactly what he <i>doesn’t</i> want. “My ears are ringing a little and I won’t be sleeping on my back for a couple days. I got lucky, really.”
“Don’t forget the two broken ribs,” Jen interjects.
Elizabeth’s expression becomes vacant, but she comes back to herself enough to give him her ‘brave face’ smile. “Looks like we both need a little R&R.”
He leans forward to bury his face in her shoulder. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
Elizabeth’s fingers card through his hair, and just when the niceness of holding onto her is starting to overtake the pain from his back, Jennifer interrupts again.
“Elizabeth, please,” the doctor sighs. “You two can hang on as tight as you want as soon as I get the clean bandages on.”
“Sorry, Jen.”
Before they escape the infirmary, John steals a few shelf-stable cold packs. In Elizabeth’s quarters, he finds his way through the dark in concession to her headache, looking for a washcloth or something in her bathroom. Returning to bed, he finds her in one of his old air force t-shirts, hugging a pillow with her eyes screwed shut. He leans down to press a kiss to her temple, laying the wrapped ice pack on her head when she whimpers slightly. “How’s that?”
She lets out a sigh of pleasure. “Really nice. Are you too sore for me to use you as a pillow?”
“Never,” he promises, slipping into her bed. “You scared me today, ‘Lizabeth.”
She pouts at him. “Me? You got blown up.”
He pets her hair absently. “You may be nearly invincible, but if the wraith had decided to feed on you, the nanites wouldn’t have done shit.”
“It was all just terrible timing,” Elizabeth sighs. “I’m just glad we’re back in our own bed.”
“Get some sleep, hon,” John mutters.
“You too.” She nuzzles into his neck. “I’ll still be here if the nightmares wake you up.”
He closes his eyes. “Which one of us d’you think will wake up screaming first?”
“Probably me,” she sighs, “but I’m expecting you to be restless tonight, with your back covered in bandages.”
He grimaces. “If I don’t move, it doesn’t hurt… just feels kinda hot and sore.”
“I’m jealous,” Elizabeth groans. “I swear my head is only getting worse, not better.”
“I can crack a fresh ice pack for you if you want,” he offers. They’re within reach on his nightstand.
“No, it’s cold enough.” She nestles against him even closer. “I just need to fall asleep. Should’ve asked for more sleeping pills.”
John knows she has to take a higher dosage thanks to the nanites processing the medicine out of her system. “I can rub your back until you fall asleep?”
It’s almost too dark to tell, but he thinks she smiles. “You’re too good to me.”
He begins tracing patterns up and down her spine. “I love you, Elizabeth.”
Her voice is already slow and sleepy. “I love you, too.”
#sga#stargate atlantis#sga fic#john sheppard#elizabeth weir#sheppard x weir#stargate atlantis fic#julie writes
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Lexi Howard's Guide for a perfect Christmas
for @fexifan ♡
Summary:
Between the pages of her diary there’s a piece of paper sticking out. A handy guide, past Lexi came up with. This list had been the cause of both joy and stress, but most of all it was keeping her prepared for a magical holiday season. All she had to do was consider these few points:
Bling
Sweet treats
Charity
Family
The perfect gift
A spark of romance
The last point 'A spark of romance' had been hastily crossed out, because even back then Lexi knew that life wasn’t some fanfiction.
Check out other magnificent feximas gifts in the collection ♡
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It took Kevin Cozner a long time to see the squad as his husband's - and later his own - family.
Now more than ever, he is glad to have the strange little family.
---
For Andre Braugher.
#brooklyn 99#brooklyn nine nine#b99 fanfic#raymond holt#kevin conner#jake petals#amy santiago#mac peralta#charles boyle#terry jeffords#gina linetti#rosa diaz#madeline wuntch#julie writes
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Glee Drabble Prompt #1: Harvest
100 words is SO not enough words, yall...
"You aren't even a little bit sad about what you do?" Blaine asks. He's looking at Kurt, with his eyes.
It makes Kurt squirm.
The fact that anything can make Kurt squirm is embarrassing. A God of Death shouldn't be squirmy. Especially over Blaine, God of Love.
"No," Kurt answers. "They're done with this part. They've grown as much as they can. I collect them, carry them into...the next part." That 'next part' wasn't his job. "It would be like letting a garden wither, without anyone to harvest it. It would be wasteful. How is that sad?"
Blaine smiles. Kurt squirms.
@gleedrabbleblog
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– Via "twinnedpeaks" on Tumblr
[TEXT ID: / july didn't even say goodbye. the years don't kiss you goodnight anymore. they just leave behind this empty space, a phantom pain. and still i ache, i ache, i ache! / END ID]
#the years don't kiss you goodnight anymore#they just leave behind this empty space#I'm literally sobbing crying and throwing up over this#july ending#literary#literature#words#dark academia#light academia#excerpts#fragments#spilled thoughts#spilled ink#writings
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#now that summer is approaching i will FOR SURE start writing again#why am i like this#i think senior year sniped me#if i didn't have grave shift going to a library to focus would be so much easier hhhhhh#writing#writeblr#eris talks#writing community#writers on tumblr#writing memes#oh i know#I'll start planning for camp nano in July
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“What the hell is this?!”
The words startle Steve awake more effectively than his alarm ever managed and he flails a bit, almost falling off the couch until he recognises Dustin looming over him, hands on hips looking extremely unimpressed.
(Later Steve will have time to be fondly amused that the gesture came from him.)
“Henderson?” he asks, blinking up at the kid with bleary eyes. “Jesus, what time is it?”
“6:30,” Dustin informs him.
“In the morning?” he croaks.
“Yes, in the morning!” Dustin snaps. “What the hell is this Steve?”
Steve is still mostly asleep, he knows he looks like a mess and he also knows that he and Dustin did not have any sort of plans that would give him reason to be waking Steve up at six-fucking-thirty in the morning. So he says, “Sleep, Henderson. It’s sleep.”
Dustin does not look amused by this. “Do you always fall asleep on the couch with Eddie?”
Steve blinks up at Dustin, confused. “What? Eddie?”
Dustin gestures behind Steve and Steve, against his better judgement, turns his head to find that Eddie is in fact on the couch behind him. Turning put him face-to-face with the other man and Steve just sort of blinks in befuddlement before wondering aloud, “Jesus Christ how is he still asleep?” Because he genuinely has no idea how anyone could be sleeping through Dustin’s sheer volume.
“That’s all you have to say?” Dustin demands.
“It’s early,” Steve complains.
“You’re sleeping with Eddie!”
“Well i was,” Steve groaned, “right up until you started shouting. Why are you even here?”
“Sleeping. With. Eddie,” Dustin repeats in case it was lost on Steve the first time.
“It’s six thirty in the morning!” Steve points out. Again. What else was he supposed to be doing at that time of day?
“Sleeping with Eddie!” Dustin repeats like a bad record, needle skipping back and forth.
Steve is too tired for this. “Make sense or go away and come back in two hours.”
“Steve,” and Dustin sounds very serious now, “are you having sex with Eddie?”
“…no?” He squints at Dustin, a little concerned about the kid’s knowledge of sex if he’s asking that when Steve is lying fully clothed and half asleep next to an equally fully clothed and still asleep Eddie.
Dustin does not find this funny. “Then what the hell is this? Why are you cuddling on the couch?”
Relieved, Steve says, “Oh, you didn’t mean that literally.” Then he shrugs. “We must have fallen asleep down here.”
“You fell asleep cuddling on the couch?” Dustin’s voice is very dry.
“…i guess?” Steve doesn’t actually know how the cuddling came about - would he call it cuddling? - but he gets the feeling he should be more worried about what Dustin is insinuating than he is. Mostly because, “Seriously, why the hell are you here so early?”
“Apparently, to catch you and Eddie snuggling on the couch,” Dustin snipes. “Is this going to be a thing?”
Steve looks long and hard at Eddie, doesn’t let himself sink too deeply into the thoughts or the fears, just looks at him and then he says to Dustin, “Yeah, probably.”
Dustin’s outrage is not faked this time and it is loud enough to finally wake Eddie.
#july writing challenge#stranger things#steve x eddie#steve harrington#dustin henderson#eddie munson#pre relationship#steddie#implied steddie
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I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.
Robin Williams (b. 21 July 1951)
#Robin Williams (b. 21 July 1951)#motivation#quotes#poetry#literature#relationship quotes#writing#original#words#love#relationship#thoughts#lit#prose#spilled ink#inspiring quotes#life quotes#quoteoftheday#love quotes#poem#aesthetic
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"Your order's up. We don't bring it to you so you have to come pick it up....."
"Oh, sorry! I didn't hear it over the music :)"
On his 'day shift' Nicholas meets a patched omega with a collar, and thinks he's cute.
Little does he know, that he's the twin brother of who runs this "Michael's Coffee" operation. Who has him to be a barista by day, a machinery by night.
Other July City Facilities
#karly draws#trigun#vashwood#abo dynamics#july city#trigun stampede#vash the stampede#nicholas d. wolfwood#michael's coffee#omega!vash#alpha!wolfwood#can't believe I'm writing this
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I love those moments while writing where I realise just how much I love it
#I love writing#so much#today was a good writing day#julie writes#writer blog#writers on tumblr#writing#writing community#writeblr#writerblr#sci fi#nanowrimo
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she begs him, he says he doesn’t understand
Because I was listening to History of Man by Maisie Peters and thinking about Elizabeth. This fic was written over the course of 2+ weeks in sporadic spurts on the bus, at my work desk, and on lunch breaks. My brain during a shift is fueled by adrenaline and redbull. This is either gonna be an absolute powerhouse of a fic or utterly unintelligible!! CW for unhealthy relationships and some verbal abuse
“Don’t go. Just… don’t.”
Elizabeth truly isn’t sure she’s heard Simon correctly. She turns from her to-do list on the kitchen counter to look at where he sits at the dining table, looking morose. “I’m sorry?”
“It’s Antarctica, Elizabeth,” Simon practically whines. “You’ve been there a year out of the last eighteen months already. I know, I know, the history and anthropology of whatever the fuck is there that you can’t tell me about is a scientific wet dream, but you have other skillsets. You could easily work just as hard on any of the other six inhabited continents… where I could follow you.”
Elizabeth snorts and shakes her head. “We tried that, remember Thailand? You got so tired of being called a westerner— which you are, it’s not an insult— and being treated as foreign that you left as soon as your teaching semester ended even though I still had three more months. I thought we agreed one of our priorities in this relationship was never to hold each other back.”
“Well, that was before you fucked off to live with the polar bears, wasn’t it?”
Elizabeth steps away from the counter, gaping at him in shock. She holds up a hand for a clarifying point, but Simon shakes his head. “No. Don’t say it.”
“Technically—“
“There are no polar bears in Antarctica, I know!”
“You’re thinking of penguins.”
“Why do you have to be right all the time?” Simon groans, shoving his hands through his hair. “Why is everything all about you? Your research, your expedition, you get everything you want, well what happened to my girlfriend?”
Elizabeth folds her arms with a frown, hoping he can’t see how much his words sting. That’s the thing about Simon, though, he almost certainly can— he always knows just what to say, and what she usually thinks of as a blessing is turning into a barbed weapon right now. “I’m still here—“ but she’s not. “I’m still yours, Simon, I still love you—“
“Bullshit!”
His shout is so loud and unexpected that Elizabeth jumps, retreating to the doorway back to the living room. “Jesus, Simon, you can’t talk to me like that.”
“Oh, fuck off, Elizabeth.” He sighs like he’s so tired, like she’s studying glyphs from ten thousand years ago just as an excuse to get away from him.
Her anger bubbles up, refusing to be trapped under the surface. “Fuck you. You’re being selfish and unreasonable.”
“There is no way I’m the selfish one here!”
Elizabeth is shaking, either from anger or from shock that Simon is actually speaking all this aloud, her Simon, who loves nothing more than the status quo. “If you try to give me an ultimatum,” she says slowly, “you’re not going to like the answer. So I would suggest perhaps we call it a night.”
He follows her as she turns to leave the room, one hand heavy against her back. “Come on, Lizzie, let’s not go to bed angry.”
Elizabeth grits her teeth to keep from snapping at him about the nickname. “Just give me some space, Simon.”
Six weeks later, everything has changed. But the last night before she’d left still rings in Elizabeth’s mind. They all have a week off, military and civilians alike. It feels like a luxury for most of them, sure, but facing weeks or months or even years without seeing Earth again, let alone their loved ones, it seems rather paltry.
Elizabeth sighs into her cup of coffee. “I think I’m going to miss Sedgewick the most. No offense, mother.”
Her mom laughs quietly. “I’m not offended, but I think a certain doctor might be.”
All the diplomatic muscle memory in the world couldn’t stop Elizabeth from frowning then. “I haven’t been to see him yet. I haven’t told him I’m going.”
Her mother raises both eyebrows in an incredibly familiar way. “You’re going somewhere I’ve probably never heard of, you hardly know when you’re coming back, and you haven’t even said goodbye?”
Elizabeth thinks wryly that she’s absolutely certain her mother hasn’t heard of her next posting. “I… don’t want him to ask me not to go.” The ghost of that confusion, humiliation, and anger sweeps through her mind once more.
“It sounds like you need to let him go, Elizabeth,” her mother responds, worry piercing her tone.
But in the end, all Elizabeth can spare the energy for is one meager message left on Simon’s answering machine. It contains more apologies than explanations, and a very thin promise that she’ll explain herself someday soon. Lying in the dark, with hardly twelve hours before the Atlantis expedition leaves, Elizabeth can’t help but laugh to herself, a harsh sound in the late night silence. Wrapped up with Stargate Command and the IOA… she’s never going to be able to explain anything again. Not with security clearances and matters of international security and being lightyears away from Earth.
The closer she gets to dreams she never thought would see the light of day, the further she gets from Simon.
Elizabeth closes her eyes in the futile hope that sleep will find her and decides that’s a sacrifice she can live with.
#stargate atlantis#SGA#elizabeth weir#simon wallace#sga fic#stargate atlantis fic#Julie writes#cw verbal abuse
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Sneak Peak 👀
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the-quiet-winds writing masterpost!
[a complete list of my published works. please, go ham.]
last updated: 12/13/23
Six the Musical (what I am definitely most known for)
The Gravity of Tempered Grace - [x]
None of them came back exactly the same - Catherine of Aragon is several inches taller and several shades darker, Catherine Parr loves her new hair, Anne Boleyn can frequently be found complaining about her height (or lack-there-of), Katherine Howard has a thing for pink hair, and Anna of Cleves walks with a swagger she didn’t carry in the first life.
(Well, more swagger.)
But for the most part, no intrinsic or core part of their beings changed.
Except for Jane Seymour.
Jane Seymour, as the other queens were beginning to discover, is something of an enigma.
I'll Know My Name as It's Called Again - [x]
A day in the life of the one who calls herself Catherine Parr.
Light Everything Inside of You - [x]
Catherine Parr is perceptive. Sometimes, a little too perceptive for Jane Seymour's comfort.
Hyde Awey - [x]
“Maybe if you weren’t such a conniving little witch, none of this would have happened!”
Catherine blows up. Things only get worse from there.
My Six-specific writing masterpost - [x]
This tumblr post contains 100+ Six oneshots and multi-chaps. Perfect for Six fans old and new.
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Encanto (2021)
Caught in the Tide of Blossoms - [x]
Mirabel allows her eyes to close and the sun to warm her face.
“Mirabel?”
A man’s voice is calling her name.
It isn’t one that she recognizes, so she sits up quickly and glances around.
“Mirabel, is that you?”
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Brooklyn Nine-Nine
Between the Heavens and the Embers - [x]
It took Kevin Cozner a long time to see the squad as his husband's - and later his own - family.
But now more than ever, he is grateful to have this strange little group of people at his side.
Or, rather, in his bedroom.
(For Andre Braugher)
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Enchanted (2007) / Disenchanted (2022)
All These Broke Hearts (Mine's the One Bleeding) - [x]
Morgan Philip did not need a mother, thank you very much.
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Law & Order: Special Victims Unit
If This is to End in Fire - [x]
There are two lessons that one learns when working in the Special Victims Unit.
Lesson One: No one can handle the children.
Lesson Two: The deeper you get involved in a case, the more you have to lose.
Assistant District Attorney Casey Novak learned lesson one during her very first case.
Lesson two comes at a much higher cost.
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Once Upon a Time
Death in a Tarot Card - [x]
Mayor Mills never did take too kindly to outsiders, Mary Margaret learned.
#julie writes#julie's writing masterpost#six the musical#encanto#brooklyn 99#enchanted#disenchanted#law and order svu#once upon a time#this will be updated with each new fic i post on ao3!#and i promise y'all i am working on stuff#please enjoy these in the meantime
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Glee Drabble Prompt #2: Carrot
Again, 100 words is not enough words for Santana to express how much she's convinced this horse wants to do her physical bodily harm. (It doesn't, she's just a scaredy-cat.)
"Hold your hand out flat," Brittany says, tucking her hand under Santana's to guide the motion. Santana's fist tries to stay firmly clenched, but under Brittany's fingers, it can't help but loosen around the baby carrots it was clutching.
Santana isn't afraid of anything.
Anything except that monster of a horse before them.
"Britt--"
Before Santana could stop her, Brittany was holding their joined hands out to the monster.
To Santana's surprise, she doesn't lose fingers in the process.
Brittany beams. "Daisy likes you."
Anything that made Brittany smile like that couldn't be bad - no matter how scary it was.
@gleedrabbleblog
#gleedrabbleblog#glee#glee fic#brittana fic#weekly glee drabble#wgd: 2#dont look at me i dont go here im very tired.#send me an ask if u want to be tagged when i do these btw#i make zero promise of regularity tho#100 words is hard!!!#julie writes
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— July 1, 1913 / Franz Kafka
#Franz no…#July 1#1913#july#franz kafka#the diaries of franz kafka#quotes#daily kafka#writing#dark academia#id#text id#words#solitude
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