#some shorter rapid-fire ones since there's four lol

[sycamorre]

Ori 🏆 , Wysteria 🔥 , Indes 🌞 , your half orc chevalier 🎨

[OC Memory Prompts]

You spoil me c:

🏆 —A proud memory. (Oriana)

The small temple was barely a quarter of the way full, but that was ideal for Oriana. Only those who she cared about and would appreciate the moment were here. She knelt in front of the altar to Lathander, very aware that everyone behind were watching. But instead of the usual nervousness that she would normally have, there was a hint of what felt like... excitement. She resisted the urge to fidget with her hands, resisted adjusting the stole and other ornamental pieces of her robes to make sure they were still in place, and tried very hard to be patient as the harp played and they waited for the right moment. Oriana locked eyes with her brother, who stood next to the altar in front of her in full paladin regalia, beaming in her direction.

Not a moment too soon, the colors of the dawn began to fill the glass windows behind the altar as the sun rose, and Cassio stepped forward, a chalice in hand. He gave Oriana a bright smile before looking past her to address those seated in the pews.

"Dawn's blessings to all of you. We are overjoyed to see you all here on this momentous morning to honor one of our own. Many of you have heard the stories of what has happened in the last few months. Oriana has shown tremendous bravery and faith throughout it all, and it is my joy to be here with you today and welcome her as a Dawnbringer amongst our ranks."

There was a pause as Cassio turned back to Oriana, the smile still stretching across his expression. "And I am so proud of what she has accomplished today. May she always walk proudly in the Light of the Morninglord." Oriana could not say anything, but she returned the smile, barely holding in happy tears.

🔥 —An angry memory. (Wysteria)

"I cannot believe this!"

The sounds of the feast were fading behind them as the group of bards traveled down the halls to their own room. Wysteria was easily the loudest of the four, both in the volume of her voice and the way both the jingling of her jewelry and the clicking of her heels against the tiles echoed off of the walls of the palace. She continued her tirade after barely catching her breath.

"We come all this way, give a stunning performance-" her arms spread out, the flowing sleeves normally used for her dancing emphasizing her movement and frustration, "His Grace's own words, I heard him - only to then be told to leave immediately because they had not prepared us anything to eat, or even a place to sit! The nerve! I bet that Lady Helefina had something to do with it. Was she not the one who wanted her own troupe to be here instead?"

"Please quiet down, darling," came the voice from Amaryllis behind her, readjusting the way she was holding her harp. "You remember what happened last time?"

Wysteria suppressed an aggravated sound, arms going stiff at her side. "Spare me. I am not going to lose my temper, but I will not stand for it this time. We were invited here freely. Are we not members of the court as well? We are not servants and I refuse to be treated like one anymore!"

🌞 — A happy memory. (Indes)

"Yield, or I will strike you down!"

Vialgo was doing his best to be scary, head held high as he pointed the stick he found at the edge of the garden up toward Indes. But at such a young age, and with him puffing out his cheeks a little too much, it just made him look far too adorable. It took everything in the wood elf's power to keep from laughing, and instead to play along.

"Ah, you seem to have tracked me down, noble knight! But I will not yield unless you can best me in a duel!" She quickly stepped around the boy and found a stick of her own about the same size, assuming a much more practiced stance. "Show me what you can do!"

The young Imperial beamed, then charged forward with a battle cry as the began their play duel. Though she was supposed to be doing other work around the estate's grounds, she always had time to make him smile, as it reminded her so much of when she would watch over Nidhel when she was young, too. And she knew one day these play fights would almost certainly turn into Vialgo begging for her to teach him real swordplay, but that time was far enough away. For now, she hoped he could enjoy these moments, too.

🎨 — A nostalgic memory. (Kela)

The sky was just beginning to grow dark and the horses were settling in their pen for the evening. The young half-orc, however, had no intention to move anywhere just yet, despite knowing that supper would be ready soon and she would be scolded for not being there when it was. But for the moment, she found herself trapped in the horse pen with a snoozing foal who had decided that her lap made a fantastic pillow. Kela was too busy stroking his short mane and watching his lips twitch in his sleep, as if he were eating something tasty in his dreams. It was too easy to smile down at the innocence of it all.

The colt did not have a name yet. He would get one when he was weaned and proved himself strong enough, but his dam had already produced two strong foals so there was little worry about that. But unlike the first two, this one was special to Kela. She was at the age where she would soon begin her apprenticeship, learning how to handle and train the horses that they used to hunt and fight. And this little one would be the first colt she would help train from the start, and would officially be hers by the time they were done. The thought excited her, but she also wanted nothing more than to make their bond something special. So she was making it her duty to spend as much time as she could with him after her chores while he was still little. The best riders were the ones who could communicate with their mounts the best, after all. A perfect team.

And besides, the quiet of the evening was one of the best times to just sit and think of names. Or at least try to narrow down the excessively long list she had thought up.

[crassussativum]

First Lines of Last 20 Stories Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

(Yeah so not tagged by anyone but I did see @bronzeagelove do this so I wanted to, too. Everything can be found here on my AO3 since linking everything is too much of a pain for me. A few( er most) of these are from as far back as 2013. And after Master’s Pet, they were all written for the MassEffectKinkMeme so... make of that what you will lol.)

Sentinel: Mavic was halfway into a bottle of horosk and a new bed partner when the news came in rapid fire chirps to both their omnitools. 

January Drabbles: “Temple Palaven has stood for centuries,” The tour guide droned.

December Drabbles: It was said the only units closer than pilot’s were familial. 

November Drabbles: The biotics held him completely immobile against the wall and Sept’s weight on his back kept his breath short.

OC-tober: “We never did this on Carthaan,” The little boy whined, stopping along the path to catch his breath, watching his new sort of brother Saren continue forward.

Totem: Mav’s mandibles worked against his jaw in a haphazard dance of regret and misery. 

Enemies and Allies: “Fuckin’ hell,” Mav spat on the ground. “Nobody told me you’d be so damned big.”

All That Comes After: Taetis had always thought he was big for a turian, tall and wide even if he’d been told he hadn’t quite finished growing yet.

Master’s Pet: Taetis met his master down at the dock to give his report, easing into a kneeling position so he was eye-level with the drell. 

Fun in the Councilor’s Office: Saren was obviously nervous about this, standing stiffly in the corner of the elevator even as one side of his neck was playfully licked and nipped in the way he liked. 

I Can’t Get No Satisfaction: Daxen Parril woke up horny.

Duels and Tiebrakers: It began as just a bit of gratitude.

Almost Doesn’t Count: Compared to most apartments on Omega, the one he was currently attempting to leave was fairly nice and spacious. 

The Interlude: It was supposed to be a distraction, a way to soothe frayed nerves and lift the weight of past decisions from his shoulders for a little while. 

Silence Is Not Golden: Two weeks and four days into his Spectre training, Nihlus Kryik was pulled from the depths of an exhausted sleep by the sound of a steady thumping against his wall.

A Change of Perspective: The turian sitting on the foot of Sparatus’ bed was not someone he’d planned to see again. 

Undeniable:  Saren was a turian all about control, everything in its place and a place for everything.

Bittersweet: Halfway through the night-cycle, the Normandy was finally quiet.

Running Hot: “Stop it! What the fuck are you doing?” Spectre-in-training Nihlus Kryik demanded of his mentor as he was shoved into the shower stall aboard their shared ship.

All These Things I’ve Done: Sidonis damn near jumped out of his plates when a large hand clapped down on his shoulder.

So patterns! I can totally see my pattern. My first writng teacher (5th grade and Mrs. Hill) taught us to always start a story with an attention grabbing sentence, one that makes the reader want to keep going. So I tend to start in the middle of an event, some action or confrontation. As far as sentence structure, recently, I’ve used much shorter ones but I can see that they used to be longer, even run-on sentences. I have a real problem with excessive comma use that I have not been able to stop lol)

Tagging: Anyone? Y’all this was fun. 

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.1

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: After meeting in a chatroom Steve and Bucky finally meet up in real life, however Bucky isn’t anything Steve was expecting. Master list HERE.

Content Warning: a very confused Steve, an adorably disappointed Bucky. 

Word Count: 3.1k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! One of my favorite versions of Steve is the sweet confused Steve, and so I decided to have a little fun with him in this fic. Also, Steve Rogers is a Slytherin and I will fight ya’ll to the death on that one. If you don’t believe me read #10 in THIS article. There will be six chapters total, one posted every evening until we’re done. Hope you enjoy! XOXO - Ash

Chapter One

Bucky stared at Alpine, desperate for more companionship than the fluffy white cat could provide. He’d been stuck inside for the past four days while he got over the damned late winter cold he’d caught. Bucky hadn’t been sick in almost two years so he couldn’t really complain, but he was social by nature and Alpine could only do so much for her end of the conversation. He finally drug himself out of bed, carrying his fluffy duvet to the sofa with him so he could throw on a rerun of The Good Place and fire up his laptop. Bucky logged into the chat site he used to frequent that hosted discussions on all different fandoms from movies to television shows to music. He used to love hanging out online in some of the Harry Potter chats, especially HuffleHaven which he was pleased to see was still active. Bored and not really feeling up to fangirling at a level appropriate for a proud Hufflepuff, he hopped into a punk rock appreciation chat to hopefully find a way out of his bored funk. 

WinterBae: so ur a Greenday fan?

AmericanIdiot: What was your first clue?

WinterBae: well i heard the sounds of hysteria

AmericanIdiot: LOL nice. Is that your cat in the profile pic?

WinterBae: yuppp, that’s my girl Alpine

AmericanIdiot: She looks sweet. So, what fandom are you here for?

Bucky flicked over to view AmericanIdiot’s profile and was instantly smitten with the blonde who claimed punk rock was life and he could live on tacos alone if given the chance. He wondered briefly if the pic was real, it wasn’t unheard of for people to use model’s photos instead of their own, and the guy in AmericanIdiot’s picture was definitely model worthy. Tall, buff, and gorgeous; Bucky was definitely interested in more than conversation. Well, nothing to make himself feel better than a little harmless flirting. 

xxXxx

Three months later.

AmericanIdiot: I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.

WinterBae: oh come on! it’s not that bad, just let the hat sort you and i’ll let you retreat to your boring punk rock group. 

AmericanIdiot: You so owe me for this one. 

WinterBae: puhleeeease please please please

AmericanIdiot: FINE. But you still owe me. 

WinterBae: whatever you want. Promise :D

[Private Chat Initiated]

AmericanIdiot: Well shit. 

WinterBae: was i right??

AmericanIdiot: I hate you. 

WinterBae: nope, u luv me. and i told u so ;)

AmericanIdiot: How in the ever loving fuck am I a Slytherin?? I literally help my neighbor with her grocery bags every week! I feel like a puppy kicker now.

WinterBae: the hat sees inside ur soul puppy kicker mwahaha

AmericanIdiot: You totally owe me. 

WinterBae: fine. coffee? sunday morning maybe? r u near red hook? 

AmericanIdiot: I’m over in Park Slope. So not too far. Wait, are you serious? You really want to meet up?

WinterBae: let’s meet @ magnolia cafe 10am on sunday

AmericanIdiot: But how will I know it’s you?

WinterBae: i’ll wear a red rose tucked in my hair. cuz i’m classy like that lol

AmericanIdiot: Haha. Nice. I can’t wait.

WinterBae: me too :)

Steve closed the lid of his laptop, unable to believe his luck. He was finally going to meet WinterBae in real life after months of witty banter and playful flirting. He pulled on his sneakers, ready to go run out all the nervous energy thrumming inside him, and he hoped he wasn’t getting his hopes too high. Sam had already pointed out several times that he didn’t know a whole lot about WinterBae, not even what she really looked like. Steve maintained he wasn’t shallow and he knew enough about her to know that she was everything he’d hoped to find in a woman. She was bright and funny, kept him on his toes for sure, and had a biting wit that left him laughing harder than he had in years. Steve had been so lonely since Peggy up and left him, moving back to England after eight months of living together. He was finally ready to move on and he hoped WinterBae would be the one to do that with. 

Across the bustling streets of Brooklyn, in his little apartment in Red Hook, Bucky was rapid fire texting Nat about his date. She cheered him on good naturedly, happy he was actually putting himself back out there after the disaster that was Brock Rumlow. Bucky was proud that he’d been so smooth in asking AmericanIdiot to meet up, or at least smooth by his own nerdy standards. He reminded himself several times that even if the profile pic wasn’t really AmericanIdiot, he would most likely still be interested. How could he not be after spending the past three months talking to the guy every day? They talked about everything together and Bucky felt like he knew AmericanIdiot better than some of his real life friends. Two more days and he would have a name and a face to put with the amazing, brilliant, artistic guy he was completely head over heels for. Now he just had to figure out where to buy a red rose.

xxXxx

Bucky sat at a small cafe table inside Magnolia Cafe, trying not to fidget with the rose tucked behind his ear. He felt a little silly for wearing it, but also kind of like he was in a romance novel waiting to meet his knight in shining armor. He had worn his very best skinny jeans and a black button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leaving his assortment of bracelets on display. He wasn’t getting his hopes up, but damned if he wasn’t going to look his best just in case. Nat had insisted on going along, wanting to make sure Bucky’s online friend wasn’t some kind of creeper. The fierce redhead sat a few tables away, poised and ready to strike should the guy make any untoward moves. Bucky loved how protective Nat was, though honestly she was a bit terrifying at times. So he waited, scrolling through Buzzfeed News, hoping that maybe this once luck would be on his side.

Steve was so nervous he was sweating a little by the time he got to the cafe. He wiped his palms on the side of his tee shirt, wondering belatedly if he should have put in a little more effort. All he had was work clothes anymore, even the navy tee he had on was emblazoned with their star logo and the name of their gym underneath. Paired with the only jeans he owned and a lightweight leather jacket, he hoped he would make a good first impression. WinterBae had mentioned being into fashion but Steve had never had an eye for that sort of thing. Nerves rising, Steve hoped he would be able to find WinterBae easily. He knew only that she would have a red rose tucked in her hair, and from a brief mention a few weeks ago about haircuts, he knew to expect shoulder length wavy brown hair. But that was it. Steve reminded himself that he needed to go into this with open eyes, if nothing else he would walk away with a new friend. Someone other than Sam to hang out with, somewhere other than the gym they co-owned. Deep down though, he still hoped for more.

The cafe was dimly lit inside and it took Steve a minute to let his eyes adjust. He scanned the room quickly, taking note of all the women sitting at various tables. Most were with other people, leaving only four on their own, but try as he might he couldn’t spot red roses on any of them. He felt a pang of disappointment but prayed he was just early and not being stood up. He was about to go order himself an Americano to sip while he waited when he heard a rough, masculine voice call out “AmericanIdiot?” in a tone tinged with awe.

Steve turned in the direction of the voice to see a man about his age with a red rose tucked into his shoulder length wavy brown hair. His mouth moved while his brain reeled, “WinterBae?”

“Yeah! Hey!” Bucky felt like he was vibrating out of his skin; he was so thrilled. The blonde god standing in front of him really was the man from the picture, and he looked even better in real life, if that was possible. Brilliant, sweet, and hot. Bucky had hit the jackpot. 

Steve let himself be pulled into a warm hug, the man was a few inches shorter than his own 6’2” and fit nicely against his chest. The man. WinterBae was a man. Steve replayed all of their conversations in his head and kept coming up with the same assumption. Steve had never once in a million years thought he was a man. He supposed in retrospect that having a female best friend, a love of clothes, and a cat he called a “fur baby” was not necessarily concrete signs of being a woman, but damned if Steve had even thought twice about WinterBae’s gender. He forced himself to return the hug, happy to meet a new friend, even though his heart was crushed under the disappointment that nothing more would be coming of this meeting. 

“I’m so glad you made it.” Bucky told him as they pulled apart.

“Of course. Gotta get my cup of coffee for being tortured by a magical hat.” 

Bucky laughed, a rich rumbling sound, “Yeah, a Slytherin would never pass up the opportunity to benefit off the kindness of others.” 

“Well at least your poor little Huffle-brain won’t realize what’s going on.” 

“Ouch, punk. Those are some strong words from someone who watched Sorcerer's Stone for the first time less than a month ago.” 

“It’s your fault I did too, jerk. Uh, you can call me Steve by the way.” 

“Steve, nice. It suits you. I’m Bucky. Well, James, but everyone calls me Bucky.” 

“Now that’s a story I have to hear.” Steve said with a laugh and let Bucky lead him over to the line for his drink. 

They ended up spending two and a half hours talking at their little table at the cafe. Coffee turned into a muffin to split, which turned into a panini and iced teas for both of them. Steve couldn’t remember the last time conversation flowed so easily with someone. Talking to Bucky felt like they had been best friends for years opposed to only knowing each other a few months. They topic hopped relentlessly, never losing each other along the way. Steve found himself laughing so hard his ribs hurt when Bucky spoke about one of his teenage misadventures with his sister Becca. 

Bucky was very clearly flirting by the time they finished their lunch; shooting Steve sweet little smiles every so often and pushing his hair back behind his ear coyly. Steve knew he should put the breaks on the flirting, he didn’t want to lead Bucky on, but it was so much easier to just smile along with him. In his thirty years of life, Steve had never once questioned his sexuality. Men had never held any attraction for him, but something about the way Bucky chewed on his bottom lip, the tiny tip of his pink tongue peeking out, had part of Steve wanting to taste that lip himself. 

With a cough, Steve shook his head, trying to clear his unexpected wayward thoughts. “I’m sorry, I missed that.” he prompted.

Bucky titled his head slightly with a lopsided smile, “It’s okay. I was just saying that my sister was the one who gave me the courage to come out to my parents. She came out first and seeing how my parents reacted made it a lot easier for me to. She was only 15 at the time, but she always has been a hell of a lot braver than I am.” 

“I doubt that. But that’s great you guys are so close.” 

“Yeah, she’s been my best friend since the day she was born. Well, other than Nat, but don’t tell her that.” Bucky chuckled thinking back on the loving bickering Becca and Nat used to do when they were younger. “So how did you come out to your parents?” 

Steve wanted to die on the spot. A bright blush tinged his cheeks, staining his pale skin all the way down his neck. “I, uh. Well. I’m not. Um. I didn’t, actually. Because I’m not, um, gay.” Please god, let the ground open up and swallow me whole, he prayed silently, unable to meet Bucky’s eyes. 

The smile Bucky had worn, waiting for what he thought must have been one hell of a story based on Steve's blush, completely vanished. Along with all his foolish daydreams of dating someone as amazing as Steve. “Oh. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.” he finally choked out semi-normal sounding. 

“No, it’s my fault.” Steve hastily protested, “We talked so much online and I didn’t realize you were a man.” The wide eyed shock on Bucky’s face made Steve realize he hadn’t made things any better.

“Wait, what? You thought I was a woman?” Bucky asked incredulously. 

“Well, yeah. Nothing about your profile or our conversations were very clear and I guess I just somehow jumped to the conclusion that you were. I’m sorry, Bucky.” 

Disappointed but not wanting to miss out on a great friendship Bucky forced himself to smile reassuringly at Steve. “It’s okay. No harm done. So you're straight then?”

“I think so.” 

That did not help things. “That’s kinda something you know.” 

“Yeah, I thought so too. I like talking to you though. A lot.” Bucky was looking at him like he had three heads and Steve just wanted to crawl home and die of embarrassment. 

“Okay. I like talking to you a lot too. We can just be friends though, Steve. I’m not going to get my feelings hurt just because you bat for the other team.” 

“Thanks. I really am sorry. If I were to ever switch teams you’d be the first guy I call. You’re incredible.” 

“Aww come on. You don’t gotta say that. It’s all good, really. Now tell me more about this gym you run.”

Steve sighed, thankful to change topics, “Well, my best friend Sam and I opened it when he retired from the Air Force six years ago.” Steve launched into the story of how he met Sam through the VA where they had both volunteered as teenagers and then years later, they teamed up to start Shield Gym which was now one of the most popular gyms in the city.

The conversation lulled a little after that and Bucky politely refrained from any more flirting. Steve found himself missing the cute little gestures. He couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong with him but he knew he needed to figure it out sooner rather than later. They parted as friends, swapping cell phone numbers so they could text instead of the message boards and private chats online. Steve initiated the goodbye hug, wanting to test the feeling of the smaller man in his arms once more. It was just as nice as the first time and only added to Steve’s confusion. 

Nat caught up with Bucky barely a block from the cafe, pulling him for a tight hug when she saw his morose expression. “Do I need to kill him?” she asked seriously.

“He's straight.” Bucky told her, “Well, he said he thinks he’s straight. Whatever the hell that means.” 

Nat quirked a brow at that, not commenting though.

“Either way, back to spending all my nights with you and Alpine. And Becca, when the brat has time to fly out.” 

“Maybe don’t write him off just yet.” Nat said carefully, “I saw you two together, it was sweet.” 

Bucky sighed, “I can’t do it, Nat. Just let the poor straight boy be slightly confused on his own before he settles down with some perfect human barbie doll he meets at his gym.” 

Nat pursed her lips in disapproval but remained silent. She wrapped an arm around Bucky’s waist and followed him home so they could share a pint of gelato and watch a trashy rom-com until Bukcy felt better.  

“Shit, Sam.” Steve whined at his best friend back in their gym in Park Slope. He’d gone straight from the cafe to the gym, knowing Sam was working the midday shift. “How did this happen?”

“You made an honest mistake, it happens.” Sam tried to be kind with his words, “But, and I’m not saying I told you so, you didn’t really know as much about this guy as you thought you did.” 

“That might have been the politest ‘I told you so’ ever.” 

“I am sorry that it didn’t work out though. I know you thought you really falling for this WinterBae.” 

“His name is Bucky. And, I don’t know Sam, he’s just as incredible in person. More so, even. I don’t know what to do. I’m not gay. But…. maybe I am?” 

Sam set down the bottle of spray disinfectant and the rag he was wiping down the machines with. “Steve, I know you had your hopes up for this guy. But he’s a guy. And being straight, or not straight, is typically something you figure out before your thirties.” 

“I know. I know.” Steve groaned, raking his hands through his hair. 

“At least you made a new friend, right?” Sam tried hopefully.

Steve shook his head, “Yeah, but it doesn’t feel like enough. I don’t know what to do, Sam.”

“You gotta figure that one out on your own, man. But whatever you do, don’t drag that poor boy through whatever premature mid life crisis you got going on. It wouldn’t be fair to him to get his hopes up.” 

“I know that.” Steve fought to keep the glare he wanted to give Sam off his face, “I would never hurt him. I just… I need to think about it, I guess.” 

Sam clapped Steve on the shoulder supportively before resuming his cleaning, “You do that. And if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.” 

Steve thanked him and then headed out. He had a lot of thinking to do.