SuperSam Writing

So, I’m bored and I wanted to get those creative juices (I hate that word) flowing. They are mostly dialogue, but there are a few regular prompts in there. Feel free to use any of these, just tag me in it so I can read them when they’re done! 

1. “Seriously Dean, knock it off.”

2. “Wait… So you’re not pregnant?”

3. Showing Jack how to bake cookies.

4. “I swear to God Sam.”  “He’s gone, so swear it up.”

5. “Could you be any more stupid?”

6. “Just because you don’t qualify as a senior citizen doesn’t mean you can act like you’re not one.”

7. “For the last time, no. I don’t want to baby-sit Dean.”   “But-”   “No ‘buts’, Sammy. You can baby-sit big brother Dean while I hunt down the witch.”

8. Sam eating a double bacon cheeseburger with Dean.

9. “What are you doing with my face cream?”

10. “Jack, you have to wear clothes.”   “Why?”   “Because… Well, because… Ah, nevermind. Do you.”

11. “Sometimes, I’ll look up at the stars and pray to him. I know he can hear me. I just know it…”

12. “You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”   “I haven’t.”

13. “Please, don’t be dead.”

14. “I could really use a massage right abou- no. Don’t even think about it.”

15. “Do you think that our lives are planned out for us before we are born? Like, do you think that God planned to make me die this soon?”   “If he did, I’m gonna beat his ass.”

16. “Do what you gotta do, kiddo.”

17. “Sam, Dean… I gotta tell you something…”

18. “Young lady, what is that?”   “You tell me. You of all people should know what drowning your sorrows in a bottle of whiskey looks like. Whoops, here comes the bottled-up feelings!”

19. “You don’t get it!”  

20. “If you walk out of here, don’t come back. Ever.”  

21. “Wish granted.”

22. “If you’d actually go to bed at a decent time-”  “Ok, Mr. Know-it-all.”

23. “Could you do the dishes tonight?”   “We haven’t been home… there are no dishes to do.”   

24. “How the hell did you get in?”   “Well, Dean Winchester, I walked in. Just because I’m a goddess doesn’t mean I can’t walk.”

25. “Don’t leave me…”

26. “Honestly, I didn’t even notice.”

27. “Do what you want, I don’t care.”

28. “Sam, could you please not spread your man-sweat all over- don’t… Sam, get away from me!”

29. “I think that you need to go somewhere else before I smash your face into a wall.”

My Friends:

Characters: Dean, Sam

Word count:675

Warnings: ANGST, depression, fear, anxiety, all the darkness.

A/N: So this came out of me during one of my really dark phases. If you actually like this and want the rest of the story let me know otherwise, this will remain as a stand alone.

So, I said I’d do it, and here it is. This is just meant to be a list of prompts for writers to use however they like (as inspiration, writing one-shots, drabbles, etc). I’m not going to write any of this, probably. 

If you are a writer and used one of these, please tag me. I’d love to read your story.

Tagging @bloodysideofhell who helped with some of the prompts. And @sis-tafics @i-can-doot-it @daydreamingintheimpala because they seemed to be interested in this tiny project.

Happy writing!

P.S: Most of these prompts can be written either in an AU or in canon. Do as you like.

P.S.2: Just because somebody else already wrote one of these, doesn’t mean you can’t write it too! There is no such thing as repetition when the prompts leave so much room for your imagination.

1)      Reader accidentally gets pregnant and runs away without telling Dean to prevent the weight on his shoulders from becoming heavier.

2)      Reader accidentally gets pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Dean.

3)      Reader gets pregnant with Dean’s baby after a one night stand (in which they’re strangers) and now they have to deal with a baby and have no idea of what they’re doing.

4)      Dean feeling not good enough to be a father.

Happy Angst Appreciation Day!

Summary: Dean deals with the reader’s death.

Characters: Dean

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, Angst, Reader death

522 Words

Four. That’s the number of years Dean had known you. 

You and Dean had been together for three of those years. 

More specifically, you and Dean had been together for three years, seven months, two weeks, and four days. 

Dean knew this by heart and had loved every second of it. The ups, the downs, and everything in between. He had planned on being with you forever. 

Three years, seven months, two weeks, and four days, were spent being able to hold you close, to wake up next to you, to make you laugh and smile. 

Three years, seven months, two weeks, and four days, were spent loving you. 

Dean took the simple silver wedding band out of his pocket and held it tight, as though that would bring you back. 

It made him angry knowing you would never wear or see it. It made him angry knowing he will never see your smile or hear your laugh ever again. It made him angry that you were no longer his, but instead belonged to the ground.

You were given a hunter’s funeral and there was no body to bury. But Dean had made sure to get you a headstone in the same cemetery his parents were in. 

It was for the sole purpose of proof that you had left a mark on the world, even when you were long gone. 

But you had already left a mark. As unseen as it was, Dean noticed it. He felt it every day forward, every day without you. 

He had always stood by you and that didn’t change, even when you were gone. He lost track of how long he’d been standing there in the cemetery, staring at your headstone with tears in his eyes that he didn’t dare let fall. 

You had told him you’d never leave him. You promised. But you had left him. Like everyone else in his life. First his parents, then Bobby and Sam, and now you. 

You left him the moment you let out your last breath, the moment you decided to stop fighting, the moment you let go.

Dean had to watch the life leave your eyes, to watch you die. It was engraved into his mind and was something he would never forget. 

Weeks passed, and each week Sam would call, hoping that Dean would pick up. 

But he never did. 

You were the string that had tied and held Dean together, and without you, he unraveled, spiraling into a darkness.

He drowned himself in alcohol. 

He threw himself back into hunting.

He tried to go on. 

He tried to live.

For you.

But every so often his gaze would linger on his pistol or he would let go of the wheel while driving.

He wanted it to be over, to let go, to be with you.

But he needed to go on.

For you.

So whenever he felt himself drifting away too far, he would come back to the cemetery, ring in hand.