#julia writes

[buckyclevens]

john confesses to gale (excerpt from my postwar fic)

inspired by the line in the movie tropical malady, "when i gave you the clash tape, i forgot to give you my heart. you can have it today"

John reaches out in the darkness and carefully places a hand on Gale’s warm shoulder. He doesn’t stir. His skin is soft.

“When I gave you my lucky deuce,” John whispers. “I forgot to give you my heart. You can have it today.”

The words are out. Doesn’t matter if Gale is asleep, John reasons, he said the words and they’re out. An invisible weight lifts itself from his shoulders and a vice unclenches from around his heart. John exhales softly. He closes his eyes, leaving his hand on Gale’s shoulder, grateful that he hasn’t stirred.

A moment before John falls into unconsciousness, he feels Gale’s hand come up to cover his own. He feels the mattress shift and opens his eyes to see Gale’s face inches from his own, lit up by the moonlight streaming bright through the window. At their feet, Cinnamon curls herself into a tight bun, purring softly.

“You’ve always had my heart, John,” he says, taking John’s hand and bringing his fingers to his lips. He holds his breath, spellbound as Gale presses his lips to each of John’s knobby knuckles, Gale’s eyes closed as he does so. Gale’s lips are so soft, though chapped, and John’s too tired to resist the thought of imagining his lips on his own.

[redjayson]

Hi! It's almost time for the progress report again! I was going to ask next week, but my parents are visiting so I will clean the entire house and forget about stuff due to stress soooo.

You posted a new chapter of Baby's first SVSSS fic (which was really great btw) and the febuwump (which just occasionally haunts me). How are you doing with the big bang? We're finally in the time frame where stuff is getting posted and most people have posted a teaser before that. Are you going to post a teaser too? I am so curious about what your fic will be, so I figured I'd ask!

No pressure obviously, I'm pretty sure the word count of your big bang entry is the size of an entire novel (or two)

end of the month means progress report tiiime. was about to respond to this post all "woe is me I've not written much this month" but then I actually checked my spreadsheet and it turns out I've written 25k so far and there's still a week left so ¯_(ツ)_/¯

Baby's First SVSSS Fic (I've got 2.2k of chapter 5 written already, yay!)

blood and seafoam (I'm going to finish this fic in february, goddammit! I swear I am. chapter three is currently 9k + like 1-2k in my notebook that I need to type up. it may well end up being split into two chapters to post; the three chapters was a guesstimate on my part)

big bang fic (I'm still putting in a good amount of work editing it; total word count is still hovering in the 120k range, but there's 21 chapters total and I usually add to my word count while editing lmao. I have an official posting date, though! march 9, mark your calendars, everyone. I'm going to post the first 5-6 chapters then; I may post a teaser beforehand, but we'll have to see)

omegaverse jinlan city fic (added a bit to this, so now chapter 3 is 3.7k)

shrine maiden au (about halfway through my big bang fic I wrote something that made me go 'hey that base idea could be used in another fic' and thus the shrine maiden au was born. I wanted it to be short and fun and almost immediately porn but you know me. it's currently 5.5k and binggeyuan have only just kissed)

I signed up for Fandom Trumps Hate (with two offers) and the MXTX Remix 2025, so that's three guaranteed fics at some point! obviously I don't know any details for them yet (and even once I do I won't be able to share much until the fics are posted), but that will be happening this year :D

[julia-writes-things]

my tired ass almost wrote 'his heart fluttered at the unspoken implications' in a HATCHETFIELD fic

[juliafied]

Do not give into despair, its seeds Will not grow sunflowers from your pockets, only shades That grow longer with each day that draws near harsh midwinter. It will not warm the frozen jagged mud Under tank belts. Do not give into despair, its might Will not light stove nor bulb nor furnace In my grandmother’s house. It will not quiet the nightly sirens or still Her shaking hands. I am across an ocean and there, despair Hunts me with every word I read, With each day that passes with no change To dashed lines on striped and coloured maps. At night, I lay with eyes wide open, and By my door, I hear despair’s lonely breaths Mingling with mine. Yet, I still breathe.

[3xc3lsior]

hi I just wanted to say that I’m in the middle of reading evol and I love your brain

Hi I love YOU!!

[juliamccartney]

oh god maybe i can combine my pygmalion psychological horror story with the plastination puppeteer art installation plot i've been thinking about and make it even scarier

[buckyclevens]

phantom touch by me (aka burglarbilbo on ao3)

summary: set post-stalag-fight. john egan has some intricate rituals.

Gale’s fist stings and John knows he means it.

He pushed and pushed and Gale finally pushed back.

He sulks in his own bunk, letting the feeling of Gale’s fist on his face linger. John thinks about getting a wet rag or something to press against his reddening nose, but decides against it. In his lap, his hands shake lightly. He can still feel the phantom touch of Gale grabbing his legs and pushing and pulling at him.

The news of D-Day had been quick to distract Gale and alleviate just an ounce of John’s own worry, but it did nothing to repair the rift John feels growing between them. He sighs, unable to shake the weightless emptiness in his chest.

The rest of the barrack files in and John glances at Gale as he walks in, catching his eye for half a moment before he has to look away. Something between shame and guilt stir in his chest, hot and icy.

Gale’s bunk lies empty; Gale sits at the table, working on putting finishing touches on his radio. It’s rare that John spends time in his own bunk, usually he’s taking over Gale’s, but when John had thought about sitting in Gale’s bed when all of them were ordered back into the barracks, something in him shot that idea down quickly.

He lets the feeling of Gale’s hands on him fade.

It’s not until after dinner when Gale comes to him.

He’s got the doc’s makeshift medkit tucked under his arm, a bowl of undoubtedly icy water in one hand and a hand rolled cigarette and lighter in his other hand. A peace offering.

“Hey there, Major,” Gale says.

John bites back something mean and venomous before it can leave his mouth. He looks away but sits up in bed, swinging his legs over the edge.

Gale pulls up a chair and sits next to the bed, close enough for his knees to brush John’s. John doesn’t meet his gaze, keeps staring down at where their knees brush, feeling the warmth of him through the thick fabric of their uniforms.

Gale places the cigarette and lighter on the bed next to John’s leg and wordlessly places the medkit in John’s lap before dabbing a cloth into the bowl of water and leaning forward. He takes John’s face in his hand, gently cupping his chin, and starts gently cleaning away the few drops of blood that had started to dry and crust on his upper lip.

John knows Gale can feel his jaw start to tremble and he still can’t look him in the eye, even this close to him — especially this close to him. Hands resting limply in his lap, John sits still as Gale cleans him up. His nose isn’t broken, Gale clearly pulled his punch during their scuffle, but it still smarts. It’ll bruise. John guesses it already is starting to. (He thinks he wants it to.)

“Sorry ‘bout this, John,” Gale says, voice soft, as if it’s just the two of them there.

John clenches his hands into fists in his lap to keep himself from reaching out and touching Buck the way he wants to, the way he needs to.

“We got to western Europe,” Gale says. “It won’t be like this forever.”

John swallows around the lump in his throat. He looks around, catches Demarco’s eye at the poker table before he looks away, then finally, John looks at Gale . The tightness in his chest pulses as he meets Gale’s warm gaze.

“Nine months,” he says quietly.

Gale looks at him.

“It’s been nine months since you’ve touched me,” his voice is barely above a whisper. Gale is still holding his chin in his hands, gentle, firm, and warm.

“John…”

He grabs Gale’s wrist all of a sudden, stops him from cleaning his face. He presses the pad of his thumb to Gale’s pulse. John has always known Gale to have rough hands, at home he worked with animals, at bootcamp anyone who came in with soft hands wasn't long for them , and here and now no one, least of all Gale has had leisure time for calluses and blisters to fade. Ever since they started this thing between them, John’s loved the feeling of Gale’s hands on him; his rough hands giving him the lightest, gentlest touches. Now, John will take whatever touch Gale will give him, even if he has to press for it.

The first time Gale touched him, just a half-joking caress of his cheek, John thought about it for days after, half thinking (half hoping) that his cheek was branded with Gale’s fingerprints. They’d been in bootcamp then, young and bone-tired; John had been halfway drunk but he remembers it all so vividly.

Now, John holds Gale’s wrist with a cautious tenderness. Everything around them fades away — the sound of the men playing poker, the freezing barracks, the damn stalag itself . It’s just them. John’s skin burns where Gale touches him — intense and familiar. John almost closes his eyes, starts to lean into it.

At the poker table, Brady cheers loudly, breaking the two of them out of their thoughts. Reality comes back around them. Buck looks away, back at the table, smiling in quiet congratulations.

“Bucky,” Gale says again, a slight warning. He takes his hand away from his face, letting John’s grip on his wrist drop. John doesn’t fight it.

A bitter smile stretches John’s mouth and he looks away, grabs the cigarette and lighter. His face throbs a bit more and he wishes he had ice to dull the pain. He lights up. The tobacco is a nice distraction from the fact that he wants to run and he wants to touch Gale and he wants to get the fuck out and he wants to —

“Bucky,” comes Gale’s voice. “It’s cold tonight, mind if I bunk here?”

“Sure, Buck,” he says. “Sure.” Because what else could he possibly say? Gale is trying, John can see that much, and he’s felt shitty all evening. Maybe the news about landing at Normandy does mean this will be over soon. The energy for hope is draining him and he doesn’t have it in him to push Gale away, at least no further than he already feels.

Lights out comes and goes.

John lies down, presses his back against the wall of his bunk, facing outward. He closes his eyes, letting the time pass, dull moonlight streaming through the grimy windows. He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he feels his blankets shift and Gale crawl into his bunk. John opens his eyes and finds Gale’s soft face inches away. Gale smiles at him, small, mouth closed. He knows this smile well. He knows all of Gale’s smiles well.

Under the scratchy blanket, Gale reaches out and places his hand on John’s arm, squeezing gently.

“Hiya, Bucky,” Gale whispers.

John squeezes his eyes closed and reaches for Gale. He closes his hand around a fistful of fabric, pulling him close. Gale presses his lips to John’s forehead silently.

“I’m sorry, John,” Gale says. “We’re getting out of this.”

John nods. He’s heard this so many times, lately it’s seemed like Gale is always saying it to him. “I know,” John says, but he’s hard-pressed to believe it. He doesn’t have the energy to pick a fight and he doesn’t even really want to, not when he has Gale here like this.

“I’m serious,” Gale says, his lips against John’s face, breath warm on his skin. “You ‘n me, Bucky .” Another kiss. “John.”

Gale presses forward, wraps an arm around John , holding him close, pressing them together. John buries his face in Gale’s neck, breathes him in. His face aches with the phantom touch of Gale’s fist but this cuts through that noise; his neck is warm and soft and through all the grime and dirt he still smells like Gale.

“How are you like this all the time?” John says before he can stop himself.

A beat passes in silence between them.

“I don’t know any other way to be,” Gale says. “It’s you and me.”

John’s chest twists and he clings to Gale tighter. It’s the warmest he’s felt in ages.

“Yeah,” John says. “It is.” He shuts his eyes and wills his mind to be quiet, forcing himself to get lost in the way Gale holds him now. For the first time in months, John falls asleep peacefully, warm in Gale’s arms.

[redjayson]

well I can't say that chapter three of my big bang is completely edited because I entirely rewrote the first half of it but! the latter half is technically edited! there's something to be said for having the og chapter in one panel and then completely retyping it in another panel; it allows for a good amount of restructuring and also lets me fuck around with some syntax, phrasing, etc.

gonna have to SPAG edit that fucker though

currently debating whether to post five chapters on sunday like originally planned or just post four. I mean, chapters 1-4 are 30k in and of themselves, which is about a quarter of the (rest of the unedited) fic...I suppose it depends how many chapters I manage to edit by then

[julia-writes-things]

it’s “psychosis” and I opened 4 tabs to research it 😭

[julia-writes-things]

soo uhhh remember 22 days ago i said i'd write blind Jimmy? (This isn't good at all i have such bad mcyt writers block *cries*)

“It’s okay… you’re okay… it’s all good… right? Right?” Grian asked, his eyes darting around the area. They were just below bread bridge, or what was bread bridge. It was now just a patch of dirt and planks, hanging miraculously in the air. 

“I can’t see, Grian,” Jimmy snapped.

“Oh–” that made him pause. He examined Jimmy’s face. He’d seen a lot in these games, but this felt real.

“Well I mean, it’s like really severe tunnel vision. And even that is blurry.”

“That’s not good.”

“Of course it’s not good!”

“Well uh… what can I do?” he asked, careful not to anger the man further. 

“Just…” he sighed. “Take me back to the manor, maybe Joel will know what to do.” Grian nodded, swallowing his comment that Joel panicked more than he did under pressure. But maybe Jimmy was blaming him for this… tragedy? Incident? He couldn’t quite find the correct word for it. That aside, he picked Jimmy up, and started navigating through the thick trunks of the trees, and up the house. 

Jimmy was silent on the climb up, probably processing everything. In all honesty, Grian was too. Up till this point, he’d thought of these from his Watcher perspective. These lives were temporary, everything could be healed eventually… Right? Everyone died at the end, and were sent back to their original games perfectly intact. Now, he thought about it in the moment. Jimmy would have to live with this, at least until his next life. Guilt crept down his throat, forming a lump in his throat. He’d caused this chaos, now he’d need to deal with the consequences.

Season: Limited life

Characters: Bad Boys(™)

Background info: Jimmy got retinitis pigmentosa from being shot in the face with a crossbow loaded with fireworks from the clockers during the bread bridge thing.

@bluetbluish yes i did research types of blindness for it to never be mentioned

[feral-ballad]

Julia de Burgos, tr. by Jack Agüeros, from Song of the Simple Truth: The Complete Poems of Julia de Burgos; "Moments"

[Text ID: “Me, inside myself, / always waiting for something / that my mind can’t define.”]

[juliafied]

Face to Face

Chapter 4: When You're Smiling and Astride Me

Fandom: Hades

Pairing: Thanatos/Zagreus

Rating: Mature

Chapter(s): 4/5

Words: 8765

AO3

Summary:

Thanatos can’t remember the last time he went on a date that wasn’t with his email inbox, so Charon sets about rectifying the situation by making him a profile on a dating app. Sifting through guys who fish and tourists looking for one night stands, Thanatos comes across his childhood best friend, who he hasn’t spoken to since their strange parting as teenagers. Thanzag modern AU, online dating.

It would have been easier if Thanatos had changed. If he’d become full of himself, like the stereotype of the successful finance guy that he is, or if he’d become one of those weird conspiracy theorists that have been cropping up all around lately. That is, if their friendship had been one of convenient proximity and not of genuine connection.

But he’d been just the same. Self-deprecating, dry yet somehow still affectionate, quick to fluster at Zagreus’ teasing. Exactly as they’d been as kids, climbing with their sandwiches to the top of the hill overlooking the ancient ruins in their neighbourhood, laughing at the tourists with their funny hats and single-use cameras. Just a little taller. Better-spoken, maybe. No longer nervously tossing too-long bangs out of his eyes. He wishes… he wishes he’d asked him about the last seven years, about something other than a college fling that had clearly meant so little that Thanatos had barely remembered the guy’s name. About who he spends time with on the weekends, and if he has a favourite coffee shop closer to work. If he still likes to read everything he can get his hands on. Whether he's been in love.

Achilles nudges him out of his thoughts – the stranger has bought the three of them shots. “You alright, lad?”

“Not sure,” Zagreus says truthfully as the bartender expertly flips his bottle of tequila and fills three shot glasses to the brim. Achilles’ admirer flashes a smile in their direction that doesn’t extend to Zagreus. They’re passed three limes by the bartender, and a moment and a ‘cheers’ later, the alcohol has burned its way to a warm place in Zagreus’ stomach.

He watches as Achilles leans in close to yell in the stranger’s ear, whose hand has migrated to the back of the barstool, thumb grazing Achilles’ shoulder periodically, and this annoys him, though Zag’s not sure why. He finishes his other drink that’s mostly melted ice at this point, but the guy behind the bar is busy again, so he thumbs through the menu. Checks his phone – an email’s come in, from Athena thanking them for their hard work on the grant they’d submitted this afternoon, and a text that’s an overly formal but expected request for a catch up lunch from Meg. He swears she must have a reminder in her calendar. First Friday of the month, check on Zagreus. Scheduled, just like everything else in her life. He slides his phone back in his pocket just in time to order another drink, and before long a margarita is in front of him, ice-cold and beading with condensation. By the time he finishes it, Achilles’ new friend’s hand has made it off the back of the chair and onto Achilles’ waist. Zagreus scowls and taps him on the shoulder.

“Should we dance?”

The booze is thick and heavy in his limbs as they make their way slowly to the most densely-packed part of the club, closest to the speakers and the dense, hard bass that slams into Zagreus’ heart with every beat. He’s not a very good dancer, but Achilles is, moving with ease, catching more than a few eyes around him. Zagreus can’t say he’s never thought about it before, especially back when he first joined the lab, assigned to be mentored directly by basically a demigod in a dress shirt. Even now, as Achilles tosses his hair and shoots a smile over his shoulder, there’s a twinge of something in the pit of Zag’s stomach.

And that’s when he spots him.

Keep reading on AO3

[julia-writes-things]

me every other Saturday with Misty Isles

anytime mutual posts their oc. +100 hp

[3xc3lsior]

I know you’ve probably been asked this so many times, and it’s probably super annoying, but I just started beLIEve and saw that it hasn’t been updated since 2022. I hope you’re doing ok, and even if the fic never gets completed, you did an amazing, wonderful, perfect job and you should be so proud of yourself!!!!! I have never felt so connected to people that only exist on page. Sending all the well wishes queen!! And I guess this isn’t even a question lol

AH baby you know what,.. life is hard I’m not gonna lie lol I’ve got two jobs and have to work on my professional writing endeavors in my spare time which has left me zero time for it. Which sucks bc it is my magnum opus. And I hate telling people that I do work on it, bc I do sometimes, but it’s never felt quite right?? Bc I always have other shit I need to do. Anyways long not-answer to your not-question, but I’ll work on it today for you even if all I can promise is a teaser paragraph or two

[jiarkives]

can you watch my boyfriend for me?

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ summary — you do the trend where you ask your followers to watch your boyfriend.

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ character — bucky barnes (marvel)

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ content — fluff

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ notes — pretend they’re still in the tower,,, no endgame au; they’re all happy and alive 🤭 this piece is shorter i just wanted to write

~

Whenever you scroll on TikTok, you would come across videos where the user would ask their followers and viewers to watch their boyfriend for them. You find every video adorable and wholesome, so you decided to try it on your 107-year-old boyfriend, who is currently eating his breakfast alone. Perfect.

You approach your unsuspecting boyfriend with the video already rolling, then you place the phone in front of him. “Can you watch my boyfriend for me while I do my business? Thanks, you guys.” Then you’re gone before he could even get a word in.

He looks back to where you walked off before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks over to the camera with his awkward but lovable smile.

“Guess you’re all stuck with me... whoever you are.” His brows then furrow. “Wait, are you even there? I don’t know. I’ve been getting the hang of these newer technology, but... they’re tricky, you know?”

He shrugs, eating a spoonful of cereal, his eyes lighting up slightly as he turns his bowl towards the camera. “Oreos as cereals.” He snorts.

“I wonder what’s taking her so long,” he mumbles with a worried frown. “What if it’s the time of her month? She’ll tell me, right?”

But you don’t come and somewhere during the video, Steve appears with Sam as they come back from their run. The video becomes more chaotic and noisier with Steve and Sam, but they quickly leave after a few minutes and he’s alone again. And you still hasn’t come back.

As the video hit its ten minute mark, you come back with a grin, taking your phone and speaking, “Thanks, guys!”

Once the video is turned off, Bucky turns to you with his brows drawn together in concern. “Is it your time of the month?”

Bonus — comments:

User 1: he was nice didn’t try to bite 10/10 i will watch again

User 2: he brought friends over when you left is that okay???

User 3: dude!!! i babysat the avengers!!! wait til my friends hear about this

[mournfulroses]

Julia de Burgos, from Song of the Simple Truth: Poems; "Perpetually Sleepless,"