kat-writes

[kat-writes]

Trying to decide what fic to finish/wip to start.

I just can't decide what fics i wanna work on, I'm so understimulated and I need a kick in my pants. Please help. If nothing else it'll give me a priority list.

Thanks, y'all! Bless ya! Love ya! (godineedsleep)

#my writing #poll #polls #fanfiction #fanfic #the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia devorak #portia the arcana #steverogers #lotr #AUs

[kat-writes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Dot Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers Additional Tags: Artist Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Dot is their beard, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Art Block, The Hobbit References, The Hobbit J.R.R. Tolkien Summary:

Bucky tries to comfort Steve through a bit of art block and work stress.

#flash fiction #from ao3 #fanfiction #steverogers #buckybarnes #stevebucky #stucky #pre serum steve #artist steve rogers

[kat-writes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes Additional Tags: Blood, Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Aftercare, wound care, bad chiropracty Summary:

Steve tries to clean himself up after a fight, but Bucky's help is what he needs.

#flash fiction #from ao3 #steverogers #buckybarnes #stevebucky #stucky #pre serum steve #blood #tw blood

[kat-writes]

Trying to decide what fic to finish/wip to start.

I just can't decide what fics i wanna work on, I'm so understimulated and I need a kick in my pants. Please help. If nothing else it'll give me a priority list.

Thanks, y'all! Bless ya! Love ya! (godineedsleep)

[kat-writes]

Conference Call

“The aliens are coming in disguise”

Steve stared across the office at Marisha’s desk. It wasn’t that she didn’t fit in here. In an office like this, everyone working quietly at their own desk, no one really had the time to build up cliques or deep relationships. Steve had met Marisha at a couple company lunches, or passed her at the coffee maker. She’d seemed just like any other employee Steve had met. Except for today.  Today, Marisha sat at her desk, her headphones on, the little mic pulled down by her mouth. She seemed to be on a call, but her mouth wasn’t moving. At all. It had been ages, and she seemed to be engaged, but she wasn’t speaking, even when she moved her head in a way that someone would while speaking

Steve stood to go get a drink from the water cooler, peeking into Marisha’s cubicle. Her eyes were rolled back into her head, and Steve quickly looked away, his chest tight. What was that? She was still moving the same as before, but her eyes…

A hand landed on Steve’s shoulder and he jumped a little. He turned to look, but it was just Kayla. He was going to greet her, say good afternoon, but she didn’t give him the chance, reaching up to press a finger to his forehead, even as he opened his mouth to protest-

Steve was sitting at his desk, staring ahead at his computer screen, an Excel document opened with the last quarter’s budget. What had he been doing? He must’ve zoned out for a moment. But he needed to get the budget adjustments figured out before the meeting tomorrow, so Steve sighed and hunkered down to get these tables all sorted out.

#flash fiction #from instagram

[kat-writes]

i'm frothing at the mouth

i have the most beautiful idea for a book's worth (or two!) about a trans young noble that runs away and becomes a pirate

and i am so tired i have no energy or motivation to even write an outline

... but i could probably be persuaded to talk about it if someone wanted to ask me questions about it. my head is just too full to get to the specifics on my own.

i will keep using rolechat as a way to immerse myself in the vibes and maybe try to get some of my thoughts straightened out

#my writing #having thoughts

[kat-writes]

Esquestrian

“how could she not? It was all there. The horses, the children, the pie…”

Honorable Judge Robinson,  I ask that my client, Anna McAllister, have her case dismissed by the court. The prosecution has done little to prove the accident on the McAllister farm was premeditated in any way. Miss McAllister is only guilty of attempting to clean up her backyard. How could she not? It was all there: the horses, the children, the pie. With the horses having trampled the vegetable garden she needs to survive winter, the splatters of blood on her home, and the child’s injury of obvious cause, it is difficult to call her cleaning ‘tampering with the crime scene.’ No crime was committed. The children all attempted to use the horses as ladders to reach the pies resting on the high window sills. My client does not deny the child’s injury and is amenable to assisting the family with medical payments. I implore you to consider the ramifications of ruling such an accident as a crime, given all the other accidents that may occur in such a rural area as this. Animals and equipment can be unsafe, but are necessary for the lives of many, and children will not always understand the precautions necessary to handle such things. I await your response, and hope we may resolve this issue quickly. Sincerely, James Reynolds Esq.

#flash fiction #from instagram

[kat-writes]

My grandpa and I sit down to play Uno He pretends to misremember the rules He deals, so I go first. I play my card, green I learn to swim in his backyard pool I start kindergarten, middle school, high school, university He watches my first play, orchestra concert, basketball game He plays the same number, a new color He watches me pick gooseberries from the bush behind the pool He reads with me through Peter Rabbit, Little Bear, and I Spy I ask him to help me understand my math homework I play another blue card, he plays +2 I draw He never tells me about the war or how it hurt him I learn about pain anyway as it comes from inside, and words and hands far less gentle than his He hugs me tight and I kiss his temple He plays yellow, another +2 His hands are beginning to shake, bruising easily with age My nights feel deeper and darker, my bruises don't show He asks me what he does next He cannot remember I draw my +2 and tell him he has to play the next card He cannot play anything but the +4 He calls Uno I see him in the stands for my high school graduation I struggle through university, a picture of him at my desk He would be proud that I aced my one required math class I can't see him in the commencement crowd I draw my cards and fill my hand He plays his last I am relearning how to knit, and I have made him a hat for his cold ears But when I look up from my hand the game is over, my hands stuffed And he is gone.

#poetry #free verse #grandpa #my grandpa's funeral was yesterday #this may not be polished but I like it how it is

[kat-writes]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Captain America - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: George Barnes & Steve Rogers, George Barnes & Sarah Rogers Characters: George Barnes (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Winnifred Barnes (Marvel), Joseph Rogers, Sarah Rogers (Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes, Rebecca Barnes (Marvel) Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Hurt/Comfort, The Barnes-Rogers Found Family, Kid Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Kid Bucky Barnes, Bad Parent Joseph Rogers (Marvel) Summary:

When a little straw-haired boy shows up at his door in the middle of a January night with no coat and a black eye, the first thing George Barnes does is stick his head out into the hall and check for any pursuing assailants.

“Mister Barnes?” the boy asks, through chattering teeth. “’m Steve Rogers, Sir.”

“Yes, Steve, I’m George Barnes.” He cups the boy’s cheek and finds it cold as ice. “Come inside, bubba, you need to get warm.”

“Mister Barnes, please. Please, you gotta save my Ma!” Steve croaks, shaking as tears fall and freeze to his cheeks. “Please, he’s hurtin’ her bad.”

#short story #from ao3 #fanfiction #georgebarnes #steverogers #sarahrogers #winnifredbarnes #buckybarnes #josephrogers #rebeccabarnes #tw implied abuse #tw domestic violence #tw implied child abuse #found family

[kat-writes]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Other Avengers Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Cryptid Steve Rogers, Canon-Typical Violence, Creepy Steve Rogers, Not Evil Steve it's ok, Super Soldier Serum (Marvel), Side Effects, teen for language and canon-typical violence, Post-Avengers (2012), The Avengers Live in Avengers Tower (Marvel) Summary:

For earl, @earliebirb on twitter.

Tony begins to notice some strange behavior from Steve Rogers after the Avengers all start living together in the Tower. Is it a serum thing, or a... Steve thing? What's up with this long-lost, now found man of the past?

#short story #from ao3 #fanfiction #tonystark #steverogers #stevetony #stony #cryptid steve rogers

[kat-writes]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker/Steve Rogers Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Peter Parker Additional Tags: No Underage Sex, NO UNDERAGE CHARACTERS, Dom Bucky Barnes, Sub Steve Rogers, Switch Bucky Barnes, Switch Steve Rogers, Sub Bucky Barnes, Dom Steve Rogers, Bottom Peter Parker, Nonbinary Steve Rogers, Mob Boss Bucky Barnes, Alternate Universe - Mob, Omegaverse, Omega Steve Rogers, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Omega Peter Parker, Queer Themes, Queer Exploration, Gender Identity, Porn With Plot, ooh first time using that tag Summary:

Steve worked as a prostitute for years before James Barnes picked him up to be the kingpin's personal bedwarmer. But Barnes isn't exactly a typical Alpha, and when he goes down on Steve, causing a little slip of the Omega's tongue, Steve finds himself in the middle of an exploration of his gender that he never thought possible. Thankfully, it doesn't stop his horny Alpha from finding him very attractive, or finding ways to make their bedroom experience more pleasurable and exciting for his partner.

#novelette #from ao3 #fanfiction #steverogers #buckybarnes #peterparker #stevebucky #omegaverse #lgbtq+ #nonbinary #nonbinary steve rogers

[kat-writes]

ao3 wrapped [writers edition]

How many words have you written this year?

How many works did you publish this year?

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

What work of yours has the most hits?

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Favorite title you used

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

What work was the quickest to write?

What work took you the longest to write?

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

What’s your longest work of the year?

What’s your shortest work of the year?

What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Your favorite character to write this year?

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

Which work of yours have you reread the most?

How many kudos in total did you get this year?

Which work has the most comments?

Did you do any collaborative works this year?

Did you write any gifts this year?

Did you receive any gifts this year?

What’s your most common category?

What do you listen to while writing?

Favorite work you wrote this year?

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Biggest surprise while writing this year?

#my writing #fanfiction #ao3 wrapped

[kat-writes]

The Boy in the Bubble

“A little boy gets trapped in a bubble, what happens when he floats away?”

It’s warm, inside the bubble. It’s just soap, and the water from the hose was surely cold. But as the carnival man traps the boy in the bubble, the sun seems to warm the space. Then the bubble begins to lift. The boy waits for it to burst. But instead, the bubble closes under his feet. It’s so bizarre that he can’t understand what’s wrong. And then he begins to float, too. 

His mother tries to grasp at the bubble, to pop it. It won’t pop. 

He floats higher and farther. The carnival man is just watching with a wide grin on his face; wider than the boy has ever seen on a man. On a human. He turns his eyes to the sky. The moon is out. It’s afternoon, it isn’t inconceivable. But the sliver of the moon grows faster than it should. Stars seem to follow it as it grows and tilts. Eyes and a grin, as wide and piercing as the carnival man’s smile. 

The boy watches as the smile widens, no longer holding the moon-like shape. The outlines of teeth seep out from the pearlescent surface, stories taller than the bubble and the little boy. The teeth part, the mouth opening with a roar like cracking and crumbling stone. Behind the teeth is oblivion, endless and deep and cold. The bubble is warm, but that begins to shake under the boy’s feet. 

The bubble pops, and the boy screams as he falls into the darkness. The teeth close behind him, sending forth waves of power like an earthquake. The boy is unconscious before the first shockwave reaches him.

#flash fiction #from instagram #horror #tw horror

[kat-writes]

Special Someone

"her tarot reading said she'd meet the love of her life close to December, but what of him?"

Madame Iga wasn’t the most reliable source of information. Ellie never believed in spiritualism and tarot and healing crystals and oils, so why would she trust this woman her brother teased her into seeing? The summer carnival always had one or two palm readers, and they’d never tried it, so it wasn’t hard for Keeton to convince Ellie, even though she knew she wouldn’t care about whatever Madame Iga had to say. 

Ellie chose the cards. She didn’t know what they meant, but the illustrations were beautiful, and at least they would give her something nice to look at. Madame had Ellie choose her cards; let her tell when to stop flipping the deck. She pulled the Empress, the Ace of Cups, and the Emperor. Madame grinned and told her there would be someone special in her future. Ellie just couldn’t imagine any man coming into her life. She had no issue saying so, either, but Madame Iga just smiled and patted her hand. 

“I see with more than just the cards, my dear. Just keep your heart open. Especially as the holidays draw near.”

That was months away, and Ellie just smiled politely and thanked her. She paid her tickets and dragged Keeton away. The rest of the summer was filled with the normal summer fun. Fall passed in a flash, and by the time winter rolled around, Ellie had just about forgotten about Madame Iga. 

Until she brushed arms with a stranger in line for pretzels at the mall while she was Christmas shopping with her mom. The man turned to smile and apologize to Ellie, his eyes kind and his smile bright. Ellie couldn’t help but smile back. But as the man turned back around, he put his arm around a girl at his side, and Ellie could see the ring on his left hand. In the candle outlet shop, she reached for the same candle as another young man. Their fingers brushed together, and Ellie gasped a little. This man smiled and apologized, then handed the candle over. Ellie thanked him, and wanted to ask… something else. But the man gestured another young man close, asking him what scent he would prefer as they held hands. 

She just kept falling into these little moments all December, whenever she was out shopping or meeting people for parties or meals. She cursed Madame Iga for putting so much expectation in her mind. These men were going about their lives; what right did she have to expect one of them to be just waiting for her to waltz into theirs? 

Ellie stopped paying attention. She handled any more meet-cute moments with platonic grace and managed to have a calm holiday, enjoying the presence of her family. New Year’s passed without incident, without any clandestine midnight kiss. Even Valentine’s passed without any lover to speak of. 

March brought rain. Downpours filled the streets, flooding over leaf-covered drains, leftover from the melting snow. Ellie shivered under her umbrella as she fought against the wind, trying just to get home after a lunch date with her mom. It was ridiculous, even though it happened every year, she never felt any better-suited to bear it. She noticed, in a soggy box caught on top of a storm drain, someone even less suited for this weather. Ellie carefully extracted the wailing kitten, bundling him in her coat as she hurried home even faster. 

Goober was such a sweet boy, once he was settled in her home, micro-chipped, fed, warm, and loved. He would curl up with Ellie whenever it rained, or after the showered, as if they could keep each other safe from the water. But once the weather was nice, he was happy to let Ellie harness train him and take him for walks outside. Sunbeams inside were good, but to be in the sun, out in the air, seemed like Goober’s own little heaven. Ellie adored him too much to not let him have that. 

She even took him to the carnival! He stayed in a cat backpack, but he seemed happy enough to be taking in all the sights and smells. Ellie and Keeton were happy to let him sniff their different foods. But as they bought cotton candy, Goober was more interested in something off to the side. Ellie followed his line of sight and realized that Madame Iga had set up her booth just a couple stands over. Ellie couldn’t help but walk closer, just to see if she was still running the same scams. But as they approached, Madame just burst into a laugh, putting a finger to her nose.  “Perhaps I’m not as sharp as I was in my youth! But I see you’ve found quite a sweet young man.”

Goober squeaked at Madame, and then stared up at Ellie with big, orange eyes. As Ellie looked back, she just wrapped her arms around the bag, holding her sweet boy close.

#flash fiction #from instagram #cat

[kat-writes]

Tusk: 2 Mustachioed 2 Furious

[Despite the goofy title: Content Warning for gore and horror.]

The animal sanctuary is quiet, save for the grating wails of man-made horror. The walrus is strange, and visitors never stay long to look at it. Within the first year, it learns to stay inside its dome. The Americans come to throw in fish and large gas station drinks. The cups pile up and up, until there is practically another dome over the first, made of styrofoam. The Americans stop coming, eventually, years passing as the walrus is entombed in its mausoleum of plastic. The braying stops, and the workers don’t go near the pen to clean it. The idea of cleaning up the corpse of that monstrosity is too much for anyone to stomach. 

The pool becomes murky, overgrown with algae. The cups shift around at night, or when tousled by the elements. But it sits stagnant for months. The workers notice a strange sound coming from inside the double dome, but they chalk it up to the likely decomposing body. They can’t smell anything, which is a good enough reason for them to leave it all alone, so they won’t have to learn what a rotting monster smells like. 

After a weekend, the sanctuary manager comes in to open the building. She unlocks the doors and turns the lights on in the guest entrance. She gets the computer booted up and logged on, then heads outside to get the animals fed and their habitats cleaned.

Blood pools around the body of a young worker, who had closed the night before. The manager stares in horror, unable to utter even a whimper. The boy’s head is turned toward the door, frozen in a screaming tableau. His back is full of wide punctures, allowing the blood to seep out of him at all angles. He’s no longer breathing, but the puddle of crimson is wide. She can smell it from the doorway. 

Looking around for any assailant, the manager finds none. But inside the walrus habitat is a sight that makes her blanche, her hands shaking at her sides. The domes have been breached. A large hole has exploded out, where something has surely escaped. Styrofoam cups litter the habitat and surrounding area, some with bite and puncture marks, some mostly consumed. 

The beast has eaten its way out.

The manager fumbles for her phone, knowing she needs to call the authorities. It can’t have gotten far; she remembers how sluggish it was when it arrived years ago. Why it hadn’t been just put down she will never know. Her phone rings and the emergency operator picks up, but the manager doesn’t get a chance to speak. 

Tusks pierce down from her back to her chest. She gurgles out strangled, unintelligible words to the operator, and falls to the ground when the beast yanks its tusks back out of her. Her body twitches and she chokes, staring up at the beast’s horrifyingly human face until her vision fades. Yet, even in the darkness of death, she can still see its bloodshot eyes, the sallow complexion it’s taken. Her ears ring with its reedy breaths, its horrifying body sustained on styrofoam and plastic. It should be dead. But it isn’t. 

Her last thought, the only thing she can think to regret before it all fades away, is that she cannot warn a single soul of the evil that is now coming for them. Bloodshot and soulless as its eyes have become, there is anger in them too deep for her to comprehend as she passes.

The beast watches its third victim succumb to her wounds. Its breathing roughens as it hears the tinny voice of a woman on the other end of the phone call. No one answered its calls, no one picked up the phone for it when it called for help. It stomps on the phone, then swipes its unnaturally human flipper, skidding the phone all the way across the cement, into a habitat. Some animal will step on it, or defecate on it. And that’s what it deserves. 

That’s what they all deserve, for letting this happen to the walrus. Mr. Tusk, Howe called it. It hates that name. As it drags its body through the lobby of the sanctuary, faster than ever before, it vows to make everyone hate that name.

#flash fiction #horror #fanfiction #tw horror #tw gore #tusk 2014 #tusk #? does it count as fanfic ? #not queued

[kat-writes]

Petals

“Can you really be in love if they don’t love you back?”

The rose I got from Caleb for Valentine’s day smells so sweet. I don’t want to put it in a vase, because that means I’ll have to set it down. I keep it between my fingers, petals pressed to my nose. When I get home from school, I’ll press them between the pages of a book to keep.

I shouldn’t read so much into it; everyone in the class got one. His parents make sure he brings the nicest things to classroom parties. But I can’t help it. It’s more than a crush, isn’t it? This feeling is too large in my chest, written on every page of my little diary under my bed with its cheap lock, bought from the book fair.

He doesn’t look at me, he would barely know that I’m one of the thirty kids in his class, that his desk sat across the room from mine. He doesn’t love me, and with the way the girls in our grade tease me, I’m sure he doesn’t even like me. But does that mean I can’t love the way he laughs with his friends, or plays sports well during recess, or sets a good example for the rest of the class during quiet times? I don’t think so. I think my little heart can learn that it has the capacity to extend some small love to a person that can’t offer it back.

A couple pressed petals won’t mind that they’re not a symbol of great love, but rather of the gentle, small loves that we can pass out to others like a single Valentine’s rose.

#flash fiction #from instagram

[kat-writes]

Natural Materials

"Button mushrooms"

“I grow them very specially,” the wizard says as he flutters around his garden. I have to watch my step, but he leaps from stone to stone on the path. “You’ll love them! I think they’ll look lovely substituted on your dress!”

That makes me just a little worried. I”m not sure what exactly he grows specially, beyond ingredients for potions and spells. But he stops in front of a little pot filled with fungus growth. Each little toadstool has pleasant white spots, but there seem to be darker ones, as well. “Sir, I believe your mushrooms may have some rot in them…” Though, can mushrooms rot? I’m not a botanist. 

Thankfully, the wizard just laughs gleefully, pulling me down with him to our knees. “Look closer!”

I know better than to disobey a wizard, so I look closer. The dark spots are not spots at all! They are little holes that would make these mushrooms the perfect buttons. I thank the wizard greatly when he packages some up for me to take home.

#flash fiction #from instagram #mushrooms #wizard #wizardcore