#five sentence meme

[ambernotember]

"I was told there would be cake". Bucktommy for five sentences game! 🤭🫶

“I was told there would be cake,” Tommy said dryly.

Buck gasped dramatically. “Are you saying you only came home for cake? Mr. Kinard-Buckley, are you using me for my baking skills?”

Tommy pulled Buck into his lap. “Well, Mr. Buckley-Kinard, you did promise taste tests for the grooms’ cakes when I got home.”

“The frosting is just setting, then you can have some,” Buck turned to snuggle into Tommy more comfortably. “We have got to figure out the hyphenation, we can’t keep changing it.”

“We can do whatever the hell we want, that’s the whole point,” Tommy said. “We can pick a whole new name if you want.”

“Well, I’ve actually been thinking about just Kinard, no hyphenation,” Buck told him. “If you’d be okay with that.”

Tommy’s arms tightened around him. “Yeah, definitely.” His voice sounded a little wobbly.

“Are you about to cry on me?” Buck asked.

“No,” Tommy denied, just as Buck saw a tear roll down his cheek.

“I better change my bet about who cries first at the ceremony,” Buck mused, wiping Tommy’s cheek and placing a kiss there instead.

✨ Next five sentences meme ✨

[lilyrizzy]

tired, maxiel

Tonight, it’s not the beginning of Max’s soft snores, or Daniel's tired eyes that have him closing the book, but an itch against his side where Max’s face is always burried as he listens to Daniel read.

When he looks down, the material of Daniel’s t-shirt is in his mouth, a ring of it a darker colour that makes a kind of halo around Max’s lips. Daniel can clearly see the way that even as he sleeps, his lips purse as he sucks, can hear the little clicking noise the back of his throat makes, can't believe he didn't notice it before.

Marking their place, he puts the book on the bedside table and switches off the lamp, all while being careful not to disturb Max. When the details of their bedroom are lost to darkness, he strokes back the still shower-damp hair from Max’s forehead, wanting to kiss him, but frightened the movement will wake him.

Instead he whispers quietly into the black, like always,

“Goodnight, sweetheart."

[sashakielman]

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and i will write the next five.

The water kept rising no matter what she did.

Thank you so much for this excellent prompt, @catkin-morgs! <3

The water kept rising no matter what she did. Every instinct she ever possessed was crying out for her to panic, but she forced herself to focus on her breathing. She couldn't use her magic properly if she were panicking. Focus, breathe, concentrate was her mantra; it had been since she was a girl, prone both to crying and to nightmares.

She was not that scared little girl anymore. She could feel the magic in her veins, in her heart, in her soul as strongly as she felt the icy waves rising around her.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, stretched out her arms, and called out to the water with her magic once more.

[thassalia]

For the five-sentence fic: “What do you need me to do?”

There are half memories all over the house, all covered in a layer of dust. Susan had been gone long before the snap. He should have been here; he hadn’t been. He’d like to be relieved that these people are here to help him, Rhodes and Pepper and Natasha and Steve, an odd group crammed into a boxy little house, helping him clear it out. Instead he’s weary with it all, overcome by all these vague recollections and the queasy sense of nostalgia.

“There are bins that Pepper ordered in the bedroom. If you could put any clothes worth donating in there?”

Natasha nods, careful to keep her features schooled. He turns to the desk and continues to sort through papers, old school photos, letters with his dad’s erratic handwriting.

She gestures at the pile, at his clenched hands. “Want me to handle that instead?”

He does, but he shakes his head. “I’d rather not go through her clothes. It feels…invasive. She was always very private.”

[ktlsyrtis]

bernie loves being trapped between the couch a soft serena

Bernie loves being trapped between the couch a soft Serena, thinks there are few places in the world she'd rather be.

Except for now.

Because despite her insistence that she wasn't tired, Serena is sound asleep, and Bernie is rapidly losing all feeling in her right arm. The other problem in this equation being Serena's tendency to flail, for lack of a better word, when startled awake. (Explaining the black eye to a snickering Fletch is still one of Bernie's more humbling memories.)

Flexing her bicep shifts Serena's head a bit, but all she does is mutter something unintelligible and sling a leg over Bernie's hip, trapping her even more thoroughly.

[ylizam]

first sentence meme, alex/olivia; "Neither of us has any money."

Neither of them has any money. It's sleeting again—grey, freezing, slithering under the collar of Olivia's puffer coat—as everyone from her building scurries off to find a diner or hotel to wait out emergency services. Olivia's phone is dead, although at least she managed to stuff her charger in her pocket as they rushed out, and Alex's went missing somewhere between the couch and Olivia's bedroom; neither of them has their keys or cards, too busy finding their clothes and getting Noah out of bed and bundled up and soothed as the alarms blared and flashed.

Noah's snuffling against Olivia's side now, heavy in her arms. At least he's sleeping instead of complaining about being cold or wet or bored or—"I can take him for a little while," Alex says from Olivia's other side, when Olivia shifts him in her arms yet again.

"Hopefully won't be too much longer," Olivia says, but she lets herself relax against Alex, lets Alex prop her up and rub her back, and tries to swallow the sneeze building up somewhere behind her face.

[give me a sentence and I’ll write the next five!]

[pynkhues]

"She straightens his tie."

Okay, I failed on this one because it’s 13 sentences not five, but I hope you don’t mind, anon! Also hope you don’t mind a little C&C ficlet! 

She straightens his tie.

And she can see it – the twist of his look, the way his mouth tugs sideways, his nose wrinkles briefly and she knows without him saying it that it makes him think of days at trial, of church with his mother, of the polished, pleasant look he only offers when he’s trying to make himself palatable.  

“You didn’t have to wear one,” she reminds him, because he didn’t, doesn’t. Because when they talked about it this morning in their bedroom, she’d laughed, eyebrows raised, and he’d just been - - serious somehow, as he’d pulled the skinny black tie off it’s hook and looped it around his neck.

But they’re not in their bedroom anymore, they’re in the courthouse, and Beth isn’t wearing white (because god, they have five children between them), but she’s wearing a dress she hasn’t had the chance to wear yet in blush-pink lace, wearing the sapphire earrings he got her last Christmas, a hokey, beaded bracelet Annie made her in elementary school – something old, blue, new.

Rio huffs out a breath at her, rolling his eyes as he drops his hand to cover hers on his tie, squeezing her bare fingers, and his hand is so warm and she can’t help it then - - the way her breath hitches, the way her eyes dart up to meet his, watching them dip darker, and she opens her mouth to say something - - because this is - - she - -

“Mr and the soon-to-be-Mrs Velasquez?”

The title startles her so much she laughs, the sound loud in the corridor, bouncing off the high ceilings, the water fountain, the chairs of other couples, waiting their turn, and Rio snorts, dropping his hand to her waist, squeezing it as he pulls her gently against him. The other woman smiles at them, nodding her head back through the door she’d just ducked out of.

“The magistrate is ready for you. You have your paperwork?”  

Rio hums, and Beth can’t help it then, says “that sounds weird,” and when he looks at her, she blushes, bites her lip, adds: “good weird.”

He rocks his head from side-to-side, wets his own lips, eyes darting down to her mouth like he wants to kiss her, then glances at the open door of the courtroom, before fixing back on her.

“Yeah? You want it?”

And well - - Beth takes his hand.

Send me a sentence and I’ll write the next five.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

"are you sure about this?"

“Are you sure about this?”

No, Louis wanted to snap, his nerves so frayed at the edges that it was all he could do not to crawl out of his skin. No, of course he wasn’t fucking sure about this, he wanted to scream.

Instead, he tipped his head down once in a cold, curt nod. He hoped it looked more authoritative, more dignified, than it felt.

“Yes,” he said simply. The word slithered out of his mouth grossly. A lie. But Louis was used to it, used to lying, to sacrificing; to forcing himself to appear strong when all he wanted to do was cry.

Such was the life of an Omega — especially one in Parliament. After all, wasn’t politics just lie after lie after lie? What was one more?

He could feel small beads of sweat starting to from on his hairline, skin itching under the stifling weight of his jumper. Still, he pushed the feeling back. It’d have its time.

In a matter of hours, he’d be swimming in it, in his sweat, his desperation; dripping from head to toe in the throes of heat — a brilliant, proud, educated man who made his name fighting for the rights of his gender, reduced to nothing more than a useless, whimpering mess, filth spilling from his lips with every breath.

He was never meant to have an audience; promised God Himself he’d never be this vulnerable in front of an Alpha again. But, you know what they say — if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.

If he had any strength left, he’d laugh too. But right now, every single bloody watt of his energy was going into remaining as dignified and stern as he possibly could, as he turned to face his bodyguard.

“I’m sure,” he said to Harry, tone brooking no argument. Then, he made himself say it, vulgar though it was. “Fuck me through my heat,” he confirmed, stone-faced and completely bereft of emotion. “To keep me safe and quiet. And then get me the hell out of here.” -- Political Unrest ABO #2, dedicated to Anon and @myfineline

Read Political Unrest ABO #1

Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox and I will write [at least] the next five.