#five minute meme

[fanficmemes]

Fanfiction burger

[theliteralangel]

sastiel, library

five minute drabble meme (gonna tag @luciferxbait for kicks)

Castiel wishes he didn’t have to work in the library. People treat him like he’s invisible, but it’s the only way to get the financial aid he needs to stay here. And it has its advantages. If people are rude, their books take longer to show up, and they’re more likely to have to pay their fines.

And not everyone is rude. Sam Winchester. May 20, 1983. Pre-Law. He has hair that looks soft and he calls Castiel ‘Cas’, and sometimes, he brings a cup of coffee. Castiel doesn’t know how to tell him he prefers it black.

Once when the weather was bad Sam walked him back to the dormitory. Not like it made any difference to the rain, but it was still lovely. Nicer than walking by himself. He asked Sam inside for a hot drink – he had some hot chocolate tucked away, the nice, expensive kind, a gift from one of his brothers, saved for a rainy day. Sam seemed to hesitate.

“Alright,” he said. “Maybe the rain will settle down.”

They sat in Cas’s single room, Sam on the tiny desk chair, dwarfed by his great height, Castiel on the edge of the bed, and talked for a glorious half hour, about their families, their studies, and Castiel wondered if there was any way to ask him to come back.

He still wonders.

[theliteralangel]

destiel + fireman!dean

five minute drabble meme

It seems so stupid, now. To have hoped anyone might rescue his cat. But this man – tall, built, strong, with a smile on his face despite the obvious agony he’s in, with his arm apparently broken, has the marmalade fiend in his left arm, and hands his to Castiel with a wink before letting himself be taken to an ambulance.

They stay with Anna overnight. Gabriel says he’s allergic to cats, though Castiel has never seen him sneeze. Anna is kind, finds a couple of sweaters that might fit (Castiel doesn’t ask who they belonged to, he’s just grateful to be able to change into new clothes, when his apartment has burned down – with everything he owns in it).

In the morning, he heads to the hospital. He’s nervous, and doesn’t feel comfortable in clothes that aren’t his. It doesn’t take long to find the room, with two other firemen leaving just as he arrives; he wishes he hadn’t brought the flowers, now.

“Are you alright?” he asks, by way of introduction.

“Your cat scratched me,” says the man, green eyes looking a little stoned. “And They had to do a little surgery on my arm, but I’ll live.”

Castiel nods, and puts the flowers down. The man takes them. “Nice. Never got flowers before. Should rescue more cats, I guess. Take a load off.”

He shouldn’t; Castiel is already in love. But he perches on the edge of the chair.

[allroundlostcause]

Forman, spaghetti.

five minute drabble - @carolinesnotbrokenjustbent

How no one remembered the spaghetti overnight is and remains a mystery. But there it is, wet and cooked and gluggy and completely, utterly irresistible. When Josie pokes at it with her fingers her eyes widen in delight. Lizzie’s eyes are as big as saucers too.

“What, what?”

“It’s exactly like brains!” Josie whispers (at the top of her three year old lungs).

The obvious thing to do is to dump them out on the ground and play with them in all their slimy brilliance. They’re fantastic they make good extra hair, when you don’t want to squeeze brains, and there’s some debate about taking them outside to put in the dirt and see if they’ll become worms and wriggle away (seems reasonable).

Also, they make nice jewelry. Doesn’t last long, but the girls strut around for a few minutes in spaghetti bracelets and rings and necklaces, squeezing spaghetti brains between their toes.

“What the…”

But when you’re having fun, you forget about moms and dads who don’t like mess. Josie covers her mouth with her hands and Lizzie rolls on the ground again.

Alaric looks at Caroline. She’s so cute in the mornings with her hair all messy. And he’s going to marry her.

“I’ll clean the kitchen if you clean the girls,” he says. Caroline considers the relative mess and agrees.

“Flip flops, girls! You’re not walking on the carpet like that!”

[allroundlostcause]

bonnie & alaric + midnight

five minute drabble - @blackpanthcr

Midnight. It’s the witching hour, after all. And Alaric’s office is thick with the scent of burning sage and olive oil, the white flowers Bonnie collected from who know where, somehow bright and dark at the same time. The scent is sensual. He can’t look. Actually, he can’t think. It’s too much, he needs to open a window, maybe climb out of it.

He’s only there to channel energy, that’s the sole purpose. A vampire, an original, all that power, so little life. That’s all he’s there for. But somehow, her tiny hands in his, the scent of the sage and the flowers, it becomes more.

Alaric brings Bonnie’s wrist up to his lips, scents her blood. She doesn’t stop chanting. She never stops, not when he’s pulled her closer, pressed lips against her neck. “I can’t…”

“Don’t stop. It’s working.” Is this what the spell is supposed to do? There’s magic in intimacy, after all. There’s magic in it, and more.

Bonnie’s lips taste like butterscotch when Alaric gives in, and she weighs less than a feather when he lifts her into his arms, thrilling to those slim arms encircling his neck.

“When is it finished?” he asks. He needs permission to put her down, walk away. It’s always going to be midnight. He will never get away. He’s not even sure he wants to.

[allroundlostcause]

Saltzhane + Morning (wartownverse)

five minute meme - @thatslayer

She always says not to wait up, and he usually does anyway, nights he doesn’t head out and patrol with her. He can’t, always. Long days at the factory, and it’s kind of their deal; if he can make enough money to keep them fed she shouldn’t have to have a day job when she’s keeping people safe at night. Alaric only wishes some of the riches the council used to have had trickled on down and he could be a watcher full time, not spend his days with ammunition that still occasionally blows someone’s hands off.

She says not to wait up. He falls asleep on the couch and wakes to Faith settling in alongside him, her cheeks flushed and gorgeous, her eyes wide and bright and starting to get sleepy. Gloriously his, all of her. Their lips meet and it’s soft. Not demanding. Later, maybe.

“Still alive,” he murmurs. The light is soft.

“Hard to kill,” she agrees. This dress is ridiculous for fighting in. Alaric knows it. He just wants her to fit in. Sometimes it seems like they were born in the wrong decade or something.

She’s got dirt on her face. It doesn’t matter. He wraps her in his arms and they sleep a couple more hours. There’s another morning coming, where the kisses aren’t gentle. She needs a little rest.

[allroundlostcause]

Dalaric + storm

five minute meme - @moonoverbourbon

They’d only been back a week the day of the worst storm in local memory. There was a day’s warning, that was how severe it was. Enough time so Alaric could do something about their blood supplies (people would be staying off the streets, and they were hardly going to snatch people from inside their homes), and make sure there was plenty of actually fun stuff to eat (Damon didn’t have much of an appetite for food, having been starved as a human, but Alaric was coaxing him back by inches).

The rain started coming down a little after midnight.

Damon and Alaric were stretched out on the couch, and as the rain began to fall, the air pressure seems to dissolve. The world got clean, the scent of ozone was so strong… they grinned at each other, and paused the movie to listen to the water in the window pan.

They didn’t get out of bed the following day. Who would? They lay in tangled sheets, listening to the water run in the gutters, down the street. They turned on the radio for long enough to know people were being told not to try to drive anywhere. Schools were closed. Businesses, too. Damon eyes glinted.

Three days. For three days no one could come, or call, or bother them in any way.

(Holy fuckballs that five minutes was short what)

[allroundlostcause]

birthday + Forman {HunterForbes}

five minute drabble - @hunterforbes

Caroline has been funny about her birthday since she turned eighteen, or failed to. It’s awkward. Alaric hates to ignore it, no matter what she says, and it matters to the girls, who started screaming about having a party for mommy a few weeks ago and forced Alaric to show them on the calendar where it is.

And he thinks it might be different. She’s not just Caroline, eternal seventeen year old vampire. She’s the mom to two little girls whose idea of a great cake concept involves arguing about which green looks the most like puke and picking that. Asking if they put cherries in, will it look like the cake is bleeding? Lizzie spends five minutes rolling on the ground in wings and a pair of batman pajamas, speaking tongues, and explaining when she pretends she’s been poisoned she’s going to do the same thing again. Josie says nothing so she probably has something even worse planned.

Well, whatever they do, Caroline will be thrilled. She’s never anything but.

And they want it to be a little more special than usual so Alaric makes a couple of discreet phone calls, asks a couple of people from her work, and a couple of the less awful moms.

They ruin the surprise, of course. The day before, Lizzie sits up screaming in bed with a grin on her face and says she can’t believe there’s gonna be a SURPRISE PARTY!!!!!!!

But she’s forgiven. And apparently, Alaric is too. Caroline hugs him goodnight, and he kisses her hair.

“You’re not seventeen,” he promises. “Get some sleep.”