I need prompts

[tifaching]

Hey, all! Trying to get back into this writing thing again and back to all my lovely lj peeps.

Any one care to prompt me a character and an action, place, other character, all of the above so maybe I can at least get my drabble mojo back?

Thanks in advance to any takers!

Comments

[tabaqui]

How about....
Dean, fighting, kitchen (bunker or not, your choice), Castiel.

Bonus points for no angst. :D But up to you.

[tifaching]

Thank you! I started a mostly non- angsty one, just have to pare it into 100 words. <3

[tabaqui]

Spiff!

[tifaching]

I'm going to put these in an actual post eventually, but it could take a while so I'll post each to the prompter as I get them.

“Jesus, Cas, have I taught you nothing?” Sam’s out with his hunter crew, Dean’s stuck in the bunker with a sprained ankle and Cas is picking at his fried chicken leg with a knife and fork. The combination is pissing Dean the fuck off. He grabs a chicken wing and gnaws on it. “With. Your. Fingers.”

“I am not a barbarian.” Cas side eyes Dean’s grease slicked hands. It doesn’t help the situation.

Dean takes a heaping forkful of mashed potatoes and contemplates them for a moment before catapulting them straight into the angel’s face. There. He feels better already.

[vodou_blue]

Dean, gas station, frisbee, somebody DOESN'T spill/drop something.

[tifaching]

Thank you!

[tifaching]

Dean grins, leaning on the Impala’s roof, gas pump clacking out the gallons. On the sidewalk beside the station two boys are tossing a Frisbee. They’re good, he recognizes the game; disc zipping into each other’s hands when it isn’t purposely floating over the other’s head. It’s a trip down memory lane so he’s ready when Sam exits the gas mart balancing trays of sodas and nachos. When the disc spins Sam’s way he’s there to intercept, arcing it back into the younger boy’s hand.

“Telegraphed it a little,” Sam says.

“Just like you used to,” Dean replies. “He’ll learn.”

[quickreaver]

Sam ... falling, a snowy forest at dusk, Dean.

Boop!

[tifaching]

\o/ Thank you!

[tifaching]

Apologies for this in advance...

There are worse places to be, Sam thinks, breath misting in the frigid air. The fallen log he tumbled over dug into his back at first but now he’s too numb to feel anything. Even the slash the black dog left across his belly has powered down from gushing blood to barely seeping. The sun is low and it’s almost serene in the dim light and the peculiar, perfect silence that comes with snowfall. He considers calling out, but there’s only Dean nearby, heavy and still against his side. He’s content to sit in peace and wait with his brother.

[quickreaver]

I'M NOT CRYING, YOU'RE CRYING. (But I love it!)

[kat_lair]

Ellen, drinking, Heaven, Ash

[tifaching]

Oh, nice. Thanks!

[madebyme_x]

Sam, tied up, the trunk of the Impala, Dean.

Hope this helps ;)

[tifaching]

LOL, this gave me an interesting mental picture immediately.

[madebyme_x]

Hehe, well take it wherever your muse leads you ;)